Episode 35
Kirhin gazed down at me thoughtfully for a while, then let out a long groan and buried his face in his hands.
My voice rose before I could catch myself. As Kirhin dragged his hands down his face, an unfamiliar gravity settled over his expression. He seemed genuinely lost and anxious.
Feeling my gaze, he forced his lips into a faint, helpless smile. A subdued voice slipped through his finely drawn lips.
So a dangerous situation had arisen, and Damian had sent only Kirhin away.
What could Kirhin formally becoming a baron possibly mean to him? Their relationship certainly hadn't seemed like one where he served Kirhin out of loyalty.
My mind went blank. At the thought of that beautiful man smiling with his eyes, looking endlessly leisurely and composed, a sharp pang tightened inside my chest. Seeing my expression stiffen, Kirhin rested a hand on my shoulder and gave me a reassuring smile.
Askun.
I looked up at Kirhin's profile as he stared into the distance, lost in thought.
Though the fallout hadn't reached the region I lived in, Edmus had fought a war for years to defend the realm's borders. The people of Askun, eking out a living in barren lands, had constantly eyed and invaded the kingdom's fertile soil.
They were said to be barbarians, built like beasts and covered in hair. Fierce and bloodthirsty, the stench of blood lingered wherever they had rampaged.
In an instant, a flash of realization crossed my mind.
He isn't Damian Winton.
They would never have sent a frail, ailing youngest son of a baronial house to war. He was using a false name. For the same reason he hadn't corrected me when I mistook him for a priest—to conceal his true identity.
His expression somber, Kirhin forced a faint smile and looked at me. I met his eyes steadily.
Kirhin blinked blankly at my words. Soon, an incredulous smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
Faced with my unwavering reply, Kirhin let out a short laugh and crossed his arms.
I spoke quietly, holding his gaze. Kirhin's blue eyes wavered with the flickering hearthfire. The surrounding air seemed to grow dense. I added softly,
A quiet hush settled between us. Kirhin's wide eyes drifted uncertainly, caught off balance. Staring at me in surprise, he eventually gave a dry chuckle and pressed a hand to his brow.
With a broad smile, Kirhin rose and strode away. Standing up as well, I clutched the fabric of my dress, quietly watching his retreating back.
I refused to let anxiety crush me. Terrifyingly strong as he was, he would surely return unharmed, but to endure until then, I needed something else to throw myself into. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to sleep a wink.
Taking a deep breath, I bunched my skirts once more in trembling hands and straightened my posture before stepping forward. As I did every day, my first thought was to go have tea.Time passed swiftly. On the day after the first snowfall arrived with the bitter cold, the succession ceremony for Baron Beekman took place. Though unmelted snow lay heaped across the ground, the sunlight shone down pleasantly warm.
Christopher Beekman had met a tragic end, but that was already a matter of the past. The people's attention was fixed on the ceremony for the new baron, whose handsome looks were widely renowned.
Lucien often went out dressed impeccably, and almost always accompanied by Kirhin. Given how many were already curious about her origins, rumors surrounding her spread rapidly.
Her radiant silver hair, reminiscent of spun ice, paired with pale skin and gray eyes, held the chilling beauty of a snow fairy. That loveliness formed a striking harmony in stark contrast to Kirhin's bright, sunshine-like brilliance.
Furthermore, her demeanor toward subordinates was impeccably refined, making her appear as though she had lived as a noble from the day she was born. Many servants were captivated by the resolute poise of the young girl who rode for hours every day without ever losing her composure.
Kirhin grumbled with his chin held high. Lucien, adjusting his collar, offered a faint, amused smile.
Kirhin quietly studied Lucien as she answered smoothly.
It had been barely a month since she entered this estate, yet she had changed beyond all recognition from the child he had encountered in that prison cell. Though he knew full well that women transformed constantly, Lucien's change exceeded his wildest expectations.
Her once hollow, gaunt cheeks had filled out with a soft luster. Her posture was perpetually upright, almost reminiscent of Nina, and dignity seeped through her speech and actions. Small wonder her etiquette instructor had lavished praise, calling her the finest pupil she had ever taught.
‘…When I first saw her, she seemed like nothing more than a little child.’
Kirhin chuckled softly. Born an innate beauty, now that she wore grace like a pair of wings, she stood out wherever she went. His keen eye had not been mistaken.
As he offered his arm, Lucien smiled and gently took it. The subtly lustrous green gown suited her remarkably well.
In truth, the succession ceremony was merely a formal gathering where the administrator who brought the royal writ made an official announcement; the main event was the banquet held afterward. Once the festivities began, guests raised their glasses in toasts, celebrating the rise of the young Baron Beekman.
The eyes of the young nobles who had yet to inherit their titles were drawn entirely to Lucien. While the men looked on with admiration, the women were a different story.
Knowing where Lucien had come from, they had no intention of mingling with a counterfeit. They considered it beneath their dignity.
Yet because Kirhin kept deliberately pulling Lucien into the introductions, they were forced to exchange greetings with her. Lucien stood there with a gentle smile, looking utterly natural and composed—which grated on their nerves all the more.
When Kirhin was finally swept away by well-wishers, the women overtly encircled Lucien.
