Chapter 120
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Dear, I believe you may be misunderstanding.
Chapter 120
Returning to the Estate, I found sleep eluding me far longer than I'd anticipated.
My heart wouldn't settle.
My mind burned with fever as I tossed restlessly upon the bed, again and again.
Lucas's touch enveloped me, his warm lips parting mine as he kissed me deeply and deliberately.
The hand circling my waist gripped me firmly, and his overwhelming presence crashed over me like a tidal wave, filling me completely.
Was it because of that exhausting yet comforting act?
Or perhaps because of Lucas's warm hands, endlessly caressing me?
I fell asleep as though losing consciousness, yet woke refreshed beyond expectation.
Despite having slept mere hours, my eyes opened bright and clear as though I'd rested deeply.
I felt the solid weight of his arm wrapped firmly around my waist.
I turned my head to observe Lucas, his eyes still closed, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
"If you keep your eyes closed, will you do more?"
"No."
At my unhesitating answer, Lucas laughed and opened his eyes.
"And if I open them?"
"Then... I'll do it one more time."
I answered with a smile of my own.
After a brief kiss, we held each other close, as though savoring each other's warmth, and drew in the morning air together.
After that deep breath, I rose abruptly from the bed.
It was time to leave.
* * *
The baby returned safely to her mother's arms last night.
Carol was so shocked that the moment she saw the baby, she rushed over, pulled her into an embrace, and wept uncontrollably.
Selena wrapped her arms around Carol, who trembled violently as she cried.
"...To steal a baby from her mother's arms like that—truly, such a wretch deserves divine punishment a thousand times over."
A rare chill flickered across Selena's eyes.
With a steely gaze, Selena spoke to Grace Oellin.
"Grace Oellin, you must punish her. Severely. Don't let blood ties weaken your resolve, not for a moment."
"Yes, I'll keep that in mind."
"Harshly. Truly harshly punish her."
Even without Selena's earnest plea, my heart had already become a finely honed blade.
I recalled my conversation with Selena and adjusted my appearance.
Lucas Black changed into fresh clothes and emerged, as if to follow me.
I hesitated for a moment before speaking to him.
"I'm sorry, but I think I need to go alone for now."
"It's far too dangerous."
"You promised to lend me the General's men."
"Even if you take a hundred of them, they're weaker than me. Take me with you."
His blue eyes shone with earnest conviction.
"I understand that. I do. But... the General has something else he needs to do."
I smiled slightly and gestured for him to lean in closer.
"...?"
I whispered a few words into his ear as he drew near.
Lucas Black listened quietly, then let out an amused chuckle and kissed my cheek.
"What a cunningly delightful plan that is."
"Can you manage it?"
"Don't worry about me. Go, Grace Oellin. I'll come running the moment you call."
His smile was reassuring.
Bolstered by his confidence, I pushed open the mansion's grand gates and stepped out into the world.
* * *
Nobility typically begins their mornings late.
Even those nobles considered diligent start their day around nine o'clock, while most rise leisurely past ten.
Marquess Capren was among those nobles who customarily began his day after ten o'clock.
Especially lately, with everything going his way and his backing so secure, sleep came far too easily.
Today too, he'd woken late and planned to hold a small dinner with the Nobility Council elders in the afternoon.
With the chairman and vice-chairman of the Nobility Council facing reelection soon, Capren diligently cultivated friendships among the nobles.
Deep in pleasant dreams, he slept soundly until an urgent knocking at his bedroom door jolted him awake.
"Master! Master, it's Thomas! I'm, I'm coming in!"
Capren was a light sleeper. Startled awake, he glared irritably at Thomas.
"What is it? What's the matter?"
He yawned widely and peered out the window with bleary eyes—it was still practically dawn.
The damp morning air pressed against his skin.
"Miss Grace has arrived!"
At Thomas's words, Capren's brow furrowed.
"What? You're waking me over that girl's visit? Is that really worth such a fuss?"
"Well, the young lady said she absolutely must see you, Marquess... but her manner is very strange, sir!"
"Strange manner? What's so strange about that... Barging in at this hour with no manners? Just because she became a duchess, she thinks she can do whatever she pleases."
As Capren grumbled, Thomas hesitated uncertainly.
"She mentioned it concerns Norman and the coachman... What should I do?"
Norman and the coachman...?
At those words, Capren's mind snapped awake instantly.
Dignity forgotten, he thought of nothing else as he rushed out of his bedroom in panic.
'Norman and the coachman! How could Grace possibly know about that?'
Just recently, Norman had beaten his coachman to a pulp in the mansion's basement.
No matter how much this was his own residence, he couldn't silence all the servants' eyes and ears.
But to beat the man like that in such a place!
If word leaked out, it would be catastrophic.
So Capren, without asking or questioning, had first moved the pulped coachman away.
Capren would have preferred to dispose of him cleanly, but Norman had stopped him, insisting it was impossible.
And what was he saying?
'A child? There's a child? You, you madman!'
Capren had clutched the back of his neck in despair.
He'd ordered the coachman to dispose of the child, but he'd failed to do so.
The moment he heard that, Capren's blood pressure spiked.
If you're going to dispose of something, do it thoroughly—instead, the child had simply vanished halfway through!
The only consolation was that even if the child were found somewhere, there was no evidence it was Norman's...
But no matter how much he thought about it, something felt off.
Where on earth had that coachman hidden the baby?
And on top of that, the baby's mother—his mistress—had disappeared too?
'What a useless fool!'
Marquess Capren cursed at Norman for the first time.
He had spoken harshly to Grace Oellin many times, but he had raised Norman like precious treasure.
Yet... how could he be so incompetent!
Marquess Capren thought this as he hurried down the stairs.
Why had Grace Oellin come seeking him at this ungodly hour, mentioning Norman and the Coachman?
'Could it be... could it possibly be... that the baby is hidden at the Black Family Estate?'
If so, it could be fortunate or unfortunate.
It would mean giving Grace Oellin leverage over him, but after all, Grace Oellin was still an Oellin.
Of course, when she left this house, her eyes had held an ominous glint...
But surely she wouldn't let this household fall to ruin.
Gulp.
Marquess Capren swallowed dryly, took a deep breath, and threw open the Reception Room door.
"My, my, what brings our Duchess here so early in the morning? Were you already missing home?"
Marquess Capren entered with an unusually bright smile.
Grace Oellin, who had been sipping the fragrant black tea that Elia had poured for her, paused and looked up.
Watching Grace Oellin quietly sip her tea and gaze at her approaching father, Marquess Capren nearly lost his temper, but he held it back.
"Father."
Grace Oellin slowly set down her teacup.
With the soft clink of porcelain, the door that had been wide open behind Marquess Capren swung shut.
When he glanced back, several servants who had followed him in had firmly closed the door he'd opened.
For a moment, Marquess Capren felt as though he had entered Grace Oellin's Residence rather than his own Estate.
The sensation of being cornered was deeply unpleasant.
Grace Oellin, who had been staring intently at Marquess Capren before her, let out a sigh as if pitying him.
"You're in your nightclothes."
"...What?"
"You must have been quite anxious. The person who used to shout so loudly throughout the entire Estate about how unseemly it is to walk about in nightclothes, how utterly vulgar it is..."
"...!"
"How could you appear before your grown daughter—who is practically a stranger to you—in such a state?"
At her words, delivered in her usual calm tone with such pointed criticism, Marquess Capren's face flushed a deep crimson.
Watching him intently, Grace Oellin's lips twisted into the faintest smile as she moistened them with her black tea.
Marquess Capren's face alternated between red and purple as he struggled to contain his rising fury, but finally he spoke in a voice he could no longer suppress.
"Why have you come looking for Norman...?"
"I'm looking for something."
"Something to find?"
"Yes."
Grace Oellin handed the document envelope she had brought to Lucas Black's subordinate who had come with her.
He unfolded the envelope he had received from Grace Oellin and held it up before Marquess Capren.
The pupils of Marquess Capren's eyes, which had been moving frantically, burst with blood vessels.
"This... this is...!"
Every petty, reckless transgression Norman had committed was meticulously documented.
Attached to it was a list of nobles who had participated in Capren Oellin's tax evasion.
Capren's throat went dry as he rapidly scanned through the papers.
"I'm giving you two hours."
"W-what?"
"Bring Norman and his coachman to me within two hours."
"...!"
"If you do that, I'll hand over these documents to Father."
"Y-you're trying to b-blackmail me with something like this?!"
Capren cried out in rage and reached toward the papers, but his escort's reflexes were far swifter.
Quickly retreating, the escort raised one hand in a gesture warning him not to approach.
The cold, piercing gaze fixed upon the Marquess held not a trace of fear toward a higher-ranking noble.
To a man who had crawled through the trenches of war more than once, such a noble posed no threat.
Besides, his liege was Lucas Black.
There could be no hesitation or fear in protecting his lord's companion.
"G-Grace Oellin!!"
Watching Capren flail in his fury, Grace drew a slow, deliberate breath.
This was the beginning.
It astonished me that standing against Father felt far less daunting than I had imagined.
I was no longer afraid of him.
Yet, ironically enough.
It was Capren Oellin's eyes that now bore the unmistakable shadow of fear—so different from before.
'He has too much to lose now.'
He had once believed he could manipulate someone as insignificant as me, but circumstances had shifted dramatically.
I was no longer merely Grace Oellin.
Two great houses now stood behind me.
"Two hours."
One was Grace Black.
The very connection Father had so desperately coveted.
"If you're even five minutes late... I cannot fathom what my beloved Duke might do for my sake, Father."
The Black Family—possessing the greatest wealth and power in this realm.
"Hurry. Before I withdraw this opportunity...."
And the other was myself—standing against my past.
Grace Blooming.
"Bring Norman to me at once, Father."
Before you realize that everything you have is already crumbling.
Quickly now.
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Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org
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