Chapter 128
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Dear, I believe you may be misunderstanding.
Chapter 128
Clang.
The sharp sound of cold cutlery colliding echoed through the dim castle hall.
At the long dining table sat Lucas Black and Grace Oellin, positioned as honored guests.
Across from them sat Wale Contana, the master of the island who received them, and his younger sister Giselle.
Lucas and Wale carved into their meat, which dripped with succulent juices, while glaring at each other as though ready to kill.
Naturally, there was scarcely any meaningful conversation between the two.
Though admittedly, the atmosphere had improved considerably since Lucas's arrival at the castle.
'I've been away on the island for so long that customs on the mainland must have changed greatly. Is it the fashion now to greet the castle's master by headbutting him?'
'I was equally unaware that stripping a guest's wife bare and pinning her down was this island's custom of welcome.'
'...As someone laboring under the same curse, isn't that a rather ignorant remark? Does the Duke of the Black Family wear anything when his curse lifts?'
'Of course I wear nothing either, but I don't find myself sprawled atop another man's wife in such a state.'
'Had I known she was someone's wife, such a sight would never have occurred.'
'Even without knowing she was someone's wife, mounting a stranger's body is discourteous, Duke.'
'Is it proper etiquette to headbutt someone without understanding the situation?'
'...Both of you, please stop.'
Grace Oellin, unable to bear it any longer, interjected.
'I'm the one who should be angry here, and I'm the one most shocked.'
She fixed both Lucas and Wale with a stern gaze.
'So please, I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't raise your voices any higher than mine.'
'...'
'...'
'Since each of you surely has your reasons, let's address those first.'
Thus, despite Grace's mediation allowing them to roughly explain the situation, the atmosphere remained strained.
Neither the assault upon his beloved wife nor the sudden fracture of a rib could be smoothed over with mere words.
The greatest victims of this uncomfortable tension were Grace Oellin and Giselle, Wale Contana's younger sister.
Both felt as though they might choke, sipping only water before simultaneously opening their mouths.
"It's been so long since we've had visitors from the mainland. How is the Capital...?"
"The island is quite beautiful..."
Grace quickly smiled and yielded the first question to her.
Giselle continued shyly with her question.
"How is the Capital these days? Are all the noblewomen there as beautiful as the Duchess?"
"Beautiful? You flatter me. The Capital is currently captivated by desserts and a new landscape painting technique. The works of a painter named Garcia Roem and Hanasi have become quite popular."
Unlike the men glaring at each other, Grace Oellin and Giselle proved to be remarkably compatible conversationalists.
The two men remained silent, still eyeing each other warily, yet they seemed to listen intently to the voices of Grace and Giselle as they continued their dialogue.
Thanks to this, the murderous atmosphere softened considerably.
"My goodness, is this your first journey away from home as well, Duchess?"
"Yes, truthfully, I've never left the Capital before that..."
As Grace spoke thus far, a fleeting memory from a dream brushed across her mind.
When young Grace Oellin had gone blind, a man named Rudiger had brought her to a strange cave.
'The Primordial Cave, I believe he called it....'
Since that man's magic had transported her there, she had no way of knowing which region the cave was located in.
But... the most likely place seemed to be this very island.
"Is something the matter, madam? Are you uncomfortable?"
"Oh, no. I apologize. I was just lost in thought for a moment.... Where was I in my story? Had I mentioned that I've never been anywhere else?"
"Yes, that's right."
"This is my first time venturing so far from home. I was so excited that I couldn't sleep all night."
"I've actually never left this island either. If I ever become healthy enough to travel, I think I'd be unable to sleep for days beforehand, not just the night before."
Clatter.
The moment Giselle finished speaking, her cheeks flushed with shy excitement, Wale set down his utensils.
At that small sound, Giselle stiffened and glanced nervously at her brother.
Unlike moments before when Wale had made no effort to hide his displeasure, he now regarded Lucas Black and Grace Oellin with an expression like a mask.
Though his lips curved upward in a smile, it felt far more menacing than before.
"I believe we may conclude our meal here. Before we take tea, there is something I must tell you."
The air grew cold and heavy.
He turned his gaze to each of them in turn, his tone swift and resolute.
"Contana will not serve as witness to the Black Family's marriage vows."
"What do you mean!"
Lucas Black shot to his feet, his eyes blazing at Wale.
His clenched fist barely restrained itself from striking the table.
"What are you saying, Duke Contana?"
Though Lucas Black's voice trembled with barely contained fury, Wale remained unmoved.
"Precisely what I said, Duke Black."
"Brother, why would you say such a thing? Everything was already settled...."
"Be silent, Giselle. This has nothing to do with you."
Wale rose from his seat, firmly pushing Giselle aside.
His gaze brushed briefly against Grace Oellin, nothing more.
He deliberately turned his head away, his voice clipped and cold.
"I cannot extend any courtesy to a visitor so thoroughly lacking in manners. This is my decision now, and I have no intention of reconsidering. Therefore, I ask that you depart at first light tomorrow."
"You speak absurdity, Contana. We have already secured the vows of five families. Do you mean to oppose us now? And as for discourtesy—was it not you who acted first?"
"My only discourtesy was losing composure and asking questions of the lady. That she was unclothed was not of my choosing."
"The sea churned, and in doing so, my wife fell into the water. Was it not a great whale that disturbed the waters?"
"You are mistaken. I did not disturb your vessel."
Lucas Black and Wale collided once more.
The air transformed in an instant—cold, sharp, and cutting at everything around them.
But that moment did not last long.
Wale spun on his heel and departed the room.
"Leave. And I would prefer you never return to this place. It would not be entirely unpleasant for the Seven Great Families to proceed with an incomplete marriage for the first and last time."
With those cold words, he vanished from sight in an instant.
Grace Oellin froze in shock, then quickly reached out her hand over Lucas Black's clenched fist.
"Calm yourself, Lucas. There's no need for anger. This is a moment that demands composure."
I could see the tension drawn taut across his jaw.
Yet, heeding my words, he seemed to steel himself, drawing slow, deliberate breaths.
For his sake, I stroked his clenched fist several times over.
At last, the knuckles that had been gripping so fiercely relaxed, and Lucas grasped my fingers in return.
Wale's remaining sister spoke up.
"My sincerest apologies, Duke Black and Duchess. My brother is not normally one to respond with such emotion... I don't understand what's come over him."
Giselle appeared equally flustered, her complexion having gone pale.
"I'm not sure why he's acting this way all of a sudden, but allow me to explain once more. There must be... there must be some reason for this..."
Yet her condition seemed to stem from more than mere bewilderment.
Her breathing grew ragged, and crimson blotches began to bloom across Giselle's ashen face.
"Miss Giselle, are you all right? You seem to be having difficulty breathing."
"Yes, ah... Something's... something's wrong. The symptoms shouldn't be appearing yet... ah. Forgive me, but could you... call the Butler... please?"
Giselle, gasping for breath, collapsed back into her seat.
As she barely managed to grip the table and steady her breathing, I quickly summoned an attendant who had been standing by.
"Something's wrong with Miss Giselle! Please call the Butler!"
"Miss? Yes, yes! At once!"
As the attendant rushed down the Corridor,
"Ah... ugh."
Thud.
Giselle's body crumpled to the floor.
* * *
'I'll provide the medicine.'
The man spoke.
'Deathgrass requires considerable time to mature into a potent form. Over the past three years, you've already harvested nearly all the Deathgrass from the Nearby Sea, and the time has come when you'll need to seek alternative means.'
With utter indifference, the man laid bare Wale's desperation.
And with that same callous tone, he issued his command.
'Kill that woman.'
'I beg your pardon?'
'If that proves too difficult, then drive her away so she cannot set foot anywhere near this island. Tomorrow, without delay.'
'....'
'If you wish to save your younger sister, one of the two you must do.'
'....'
'You must see it through.'
With those words, he vanished, but his voice remained embedded in Wale's chest like a nail driven deep.
Wale recalled that man who had sought him out moments before.
'Rudiger.'
That phantom of a man.
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