Chapter 37
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Dear, I believe you may be misunderstanding.
Episode 37
Grace swallowed back the words threatening to spill from her lips and spoke instead.
"You seem to be quite the romantic."
—Is that romantic? Should I have plucked roses for you?
"No? Ah, no. I'm satisfied with the flowers I received then."
—I'll have the Garden redesigned. What about the Greenhouse? Perhaps I should purchase a flower farm. Now that I think about it, Cain was also looking into flower farms....
He spoke as though he might purchase every flower farm in the world.
'A flower farm?'
Grace shook her head in surprise and declined politely.
"I felt it then too, but you really do go overboard."
—Overboard? That's strange. My father was far more excessive....
"More excessive?"
—My father would personally pick the most beautifully bloomed rose from the Garden every morning and bring it to my mother. She would use it to wash her face every morning.
"Ah...."
...So the entire household was excessive.
'The men of this family must have sugar running through their veins....'
"Your family seems to have been quite harmonious."
—The Black Family motto is 'cherish family, pursue vengeance mercilessly.' We have upheld it through generations.
Pride resonated in his voice.
Grace suddenly understood the heart of the Previous Duke's widow, how she had crumbled after her husband's death.
If someone who gave love as boundless and powerful as an endless sea were to vanish in an instant—and if it were an accident—how devastatingly would that world collapse?
Yet the fact that she had recovered within a year truly seemed remarkable.
—I despise seeing someone I care about suffer. To be precise, I hate it when the people I love are sad. I might even say I fear it to some degree.
To fear the sadness of a loved one to such an extent....
There was no denying it.
This man was gentler than anyone she had ever met.
—Grace.
"...Yes."
She answered without tearing her eyes from his childhood photograph.
Lucas spoke in a voice that seemed to whisper against her ear.
—I cannot promise that marrying me will guarantee your happiness.
Marriage to Lucas Black.
That which she had deemed absolutely impossible now stood within arm's reach.
It was because she had glimpsed the gentleness of Lucas Black that had been hidden beneath her fear.
—But until you feel happy.
"...."
—I will make the effort.
Grace squeezed her eyes shut as if to hide the wavering in her gaze.
Her fingertips trembled, her heart wavered, entirely beyond her control.
* * *
Several more days passed.
"Miss, Miss! Lucky is coming this way!"
At Julie's words, I set down my teacup and bolted upright from my seat.
"Where, which way should I go?"
Glancing frantically around, I dashed toward the nearby shrubs and trees, concealing myself among them.
Meanwhile, Julie hurried over and pretended to tidy up the area.
With cautious footfalls, Lucky approached the tea table.
Phuuuhing....
The black horse circled around Julie, exhaling a wistful snort.
Where Julie was, I was always nearby—so my absence struck him as decidedly peculiar.
Truly, he was a perceptive creature.
Julie pretended not to notice the black horse's piercing stare and spoke with practiced nonchalance as she tidied the table.
"My young lady seems fatigued. She didn't even finish her beloved chocolate cake before retiring. Oh my! I must hurry and attend to her!"
...Phrrrumph. Hmph.
Ignoring the blue eyes that continued to regard her with suspicion, Julie folded the table and strode away briskly.
The black horse watched her departing figure with wary eyes and trotted along behind her.
Only after Julie and Lucky had completely vanished did I exhale the breath I'd been holding.
"Goodness, how does that rascal Lucky always find me here?"
His perceptiveness was truly remarkable.
I swallowed my ragged breathing and leaned against the tree.
Since yesterday, I had been deliberately restraining my thoughts of Lucas.
His mellifluous voice and tender words kept unsettling me.
He simply wouldn't grant me a moment's peace to think alone.
'I thought he was taciturn, but that's clearly not the case.'
I giggled softly, then caught myself, biting my lip in embarrassment.
There I was again, thinking of him without realizing it.
If I keep this up, I'll hear his voice again....
When his voice reaches me, my voice becomes audible to Lucas as well.
If that happens, he'll notice that I'm deliberately ignoring his words.
I made a conscious effort to think of something else.
The blue sky, fluffy clouds, refreshing breeze.
'That time when I rode on Lucky's back and galloped—it truly was wonderful.'
The sound of the wind brushing past my ears felt vivid and alive.
-You can do this, Grace. You're capable of anything if you set your mind to it.
-You're doing splendidly. Truly.
-My, then next time, shall we travel somewhere distant together? I know many beautiful places.
And like the wind itself, Lucas Black's voice whispered through my thoughts.
"Come now, get a hold of yourself, Grace Oellin!"
Grace's eyes snapped open, and she swiftly brought her palm across her own cheek.
The sharp crack echoed through the silence.
She'd struck herself with such force that her cheek stung terribly, yet the shock jolted her mind back into focus.
The memory of Norman Oellin slapping her face came rushing back.
"This is impossible. Truly impossible."
She rubbed her belly, where the bruises had nearly faded.
There were far too many instances of such petty violence to count.
Her father—bound by blood yet absent—had abandoned her, while her half-brother tormented her from the shadows.
The Butler, the eldest man in the Estate, had witnessed it all and turned a blind eye.
How unfortunate that the three men closest to Grace's life were all like this.
Men were difficult. They frightened her, and they exhausted her.
Not a single one of them had ever left her in peace.
Except for one—Lucas Black alone.
"No, stop. This cannot happen."
I tried to suppress the way my heart kept leaning toward him.
This marriage cannot happen.
How could I marry a man who makes me tremble with fear?
Moreover, marriage to me would likely cause him considerable harm.
So then, so then...
"It must not happen. It cannot happen..."
—Don't worry, Grace. I am not afraid of being hurt because of someone I cherish.
"But why does it feel like it will? Why does it keep feeling like it will?"
I cupped both my cheeks and bowed my head deeply.
The memory of his fingers tracing my lips remained on my skin like a burn.
His words, which had been even more scorching than that touch, lingered as well.
Someone I cherish.
'...Have I become someone that man cherishes?'
That Lucas Black? Why? How? For what reason?
"...Because I'm someone he could marry? Because I'm his fiancée-to-be?"
If that were true, then if the two of us broke off the engagement as I'd originally resolved, would this connection between us simply cease to exist?
As cleanly as severing a rope?
"...Ah, I'm suddenly furious."
In that moment, something ignited within me.
"He stirred my heart as he pleased. He treated a defenseless person as his own possession without permission. He was the one who grabbed me when I tried to run away...!"
I know.
This anger is utterly unreasonable.
And yet my heart boiled inexplicably.
I clenched my small fists and glared into the empty air.
It was that man—that man alone—who had so carelessly disturbed my peaceful heart.
Lucas, Lucas, Lucas Black!
Grace focused all her energy on reaching him.
She pressed her voice down deep and shouted, channeling every ounce of strength to ensure her words would reach him.
"You bastard!"
* * *
'Hm?'
Lucas, ascending the staircase, turned around.
'Was that Grace's voice just now...?'
Since yesterday, I'd barely managed to speak with Grace.
Despite searching for her everywhere, she seemed to vanish as if playing an endless game of hide-and-seek.
Just moments ago, while attending to matters with Haem, I'd glimpsed her silhouette through the window and rushed out excitedly, only to lose sight of her again.
In the nearly week-long span of Grace's stay at my Estate, such a thing had never occurred.
It was as though she'd deliberately severed all communication with me.
With troubled steps, I turned back toward the Study, scanning the space ahead.
-Grace?
I called her name, but again, silence answered.
'What is this?'
I stood motionless, surveying my surroundings.
When one's body transforms into that of a beast, the senses become far more acute.
Sight, hearing, smell—all heightened to extraordinary degrees.
A horse's vision in particular possesses a wide panoramic range, ideal for surveying the surroundings.
I swept my gaze across the expansive Garden visible beyond the window.
Yet no matter how carefully I looked, not a single strand of Grace's hair came into view.
Nor did I hear her voice again.
Pffft—!
After staring out the window for a long while, the horse suddenly shook its head roughly.
Tap, tap.
I paced in place several times with petulant steps.
'They say a woman's heart is as fickle as reeds...!'
Unable to contain my frustration, I stamped my hooves repeatedly.
We were in the same space, yet how could she hide so thoroughly?
It seemed she was deliberately turning away from me.
My heart began to race wildly, pounding against my ribs.
-Grace? Can you not hear me?
I had never been so restless before—it was unbearable.
Until yesterday, seeing Grace in this equine form had been a delight, but now it felt terribly inconvenient.
I wanted nothing more than to leap onto two legs, wrap my arms around her, and lift her up—yet I could not.
'I need to return to my human form. She must find this shape uninteresting—that's why she's avoiding me.'
They say that when one is handsome, merely looking at them brings joy.
Especially when Haem gazed at himself in the mirror, entranced by his own visage, he would lose all sense of time.
'That's right. Grace couldn't tear her eyes away from my face either. She must adore my appearance.'
Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org