Translator: Nox

Chapter 50

#50

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Warmth slowly seeped from Ricardo's fingertips.

Starting from his peripheral nerves, it flowed along his blood, gradually intensifying.

It climbed his firm forearm, slowly raising the temperature, and as it crossed his broad shoulders, it grew hotter.

And finally, when it reached Ricardo's heart, it became an uncontrollably fervent heartbeat.

‘Me too.’

The name of the warmth that Bianca's one word brought was empathy.

No, it couldn't be defined by the simple word of empathy alone.

It was a warm empathy that recognized the emotions deep within Ricardo's heart, resonated with them, and showed Bianca's own feelings and honest inner self.

The two were sharing the same time, the same place, and the same emotions.

"Bianca."

As he called her name, Ricardo watched Bianca lift her head and moved as his vigorously beating heart directed.

He took a step towards her and gently cupped Bianca's cheek, which seemed to glow faintly in the shattered moonlight.

And then, he brought his lips to Bianca's.

Ricardo quietly closed his eyes at the sensation of moisture and fragrance felt simultaneously.

To focus solely on that sensation.

"……!"

Conversely, Bianca's eyes widened at the sudden event.

She was so surprised that she even forgot to breathe.

Her reason knew what the soft thing touching her lips was, but her senses had not yet recognized it.

Only after Ricardo's lips moved away as quietly as they had approached did Bianca fully realize.

That what had just happened to her was Bianca's first kiss.

"Ricardo…"

Watching Bianca's cream-colored cheeks turn a light pink, Ricardo also realized what he had done.

That the moment of his first kiss in his life had occurred.

"What I did just now was probably rude and shameless."

He did not meet the conditions of love that Bianca had stated.

Because Ricardo could not yet vow to give his life for her.

"But I will not apologize or regret it."

Ricardo looked straight at Bianca.

"Why? You yourself said it was rude and shameless?"

Bianca also looked straight at Ricardo.

The two stared at each other with such a combative atmosphere that it was hard to believe they were the man and woman who had just kissed.

"I'm a fool who doesn't even know what love is, but I'm not a fool who will let another man take you."

Ricardo said as if declaring war.

For a man who didn't know what sweet whispers or affectionate confessions were, that was the best he could do to express his feelings.

"I am not an object to be taken or stolen."

And Bianca was the same.

The woman whose life goal was solely to be a great Duchess did not understand the clumsy man's confession.

If it had been a difficult foreign language or an incomprehensible philosophical metaphor, Bianca might have noticed.

Objectively, they were a perfect man and woman, but in romance, they were both clueless.

"I know. It would be easier if you were an object. I could just pay the price and have you."

Ricardo looked at Bianca.

A shining jewel.

A jewel that could barely be obtained even by risking one's life.

Perhaps, a precious jewel that might not be obtained even by risking one's life.

It was a truly fitting metaphor for Bianca.

***

"...It's not that I have bad feelings towards that child. But I also have my position, so that's how it turned out."

"I see."

I nodded slightly, expressing my sympathy at the Marchioness's words.

It would be natural to be confused if her husband's illegitimate child suddenly appeared. Moreover, it would be even more so if she had to formally adopt that illegitimate child.

In such a situation, it was impossible to embrace the child with love unless one was a great saint.

"Anyway, thank you for taking care of Maria's Debutante in my stead."

"You're welcome."

The Marchioness said with a face that did not look grateful at all.

As I had guessed, she did not look sick at all, and she did not even try to hide it from me.

"Maria seems to be very sad recently after losing her mother."

When I brought up Maria's story first to bring up Meggy's story, the Marchioness's eyes turned even sharper.

"I am that child's mother."

The Marchioness said in a sharp voice that seemed like it would hurt if pricked.

"That child has been formally adopted into the Wensbury family, so now I am that child's mother."

With a look as if she didn't want to admit it herself, the Marchioness repeatedly emphasized that Maria was her daughter.

"Of course, you are right."

I took a step back at the Marchioness's extremely sharp attitude.

"From now on, that child will live in the name of Wensbury, and she will become a lady worthy of it. That is that child's duty."

"You must be having a lot of trouble. You need to get better soon to do that."

"I must."

She worried about the health of a patient who was not sick, and the patient expressed her will to get well soon.

It was a truly warm and hypocritical social relationship where they pretended not to know each other's lies and covered up each other's lies.

"Next time I come, I would like to buy you a gift that would be comforting. Angela Patisserie is very popular among noble ladies these days, have you tried it?"

"I've heard Reintar talk about it, but I haven't tried it. I don't like sweets, so I don't plan to eat it in the future."

It seemed true that she didn't like sweets, as the Marchioness frowned slightly as she said that.

As if she could taste the sweetness in her mouth just by thinking about it, and it was unpleasant.

"Oh my, is that so? I almost committed a great discourtesy by giving you a gift without knowing your taste. Then I will bring you good black tea."

"Black tea would be much better."

The Marchioness nodded slightly.

"Then how about we arrange a meeting next time? Maria, you, and I. Just the three of us having a pleasant tea party."

The Marchioness's face stiffened slightly again at the mention of Maria's name.

Ordinary people might not have noticed, but I did. And I pretended not to.

"I saw today that Maria has become much more of a lady than before. She will be invited to tea parties and various gatherings with other young ladies in the future, so it would be good to practice among ourselves in advance."

"That's a good idea, but she still has many shortcomings. Let's promise to do it later."

Smiling elegantly, the Marchioness rejected my suggestion.

From her smile, I could tell that the later she spoke of would never come.

"I was too hasty. First, you need to regain your health before we can talk about other schedules."

"Thank you for your understanding."

"Then I hope to see you next time in good health."

I got up from my seat after saying my last greetings.

It was a short meeting, but there were gains.

As I had expected, the Marchioness did not welcome Maria's existence.

She never called Maria's name throughout the conversation. She only referred to her as 'that child' or 'that girl.'

As if she didn't even want to hear her name.

If she hated Maria so much, there was no way she would like Meggy.

No, she would hate Meggy even more.

She was a noble lady who married the Marquis of Wensbury at a young age.

She had lived in fear every time her husband was called to war because he was skilled in swordsmanship, and she had excellently managed the Wensbury March as the mistress of the empty mansion.

Moreover, she had even given birth to Reintar, an heir to inherit the March.

But her husband betrayed her and even had a child with another woman, what woman would like that?

The Marchioness of Wensbury had done a great favor just by accepting Maria into the Wensbury March.

Judging by how much she hated Maria, it seemed that the Marquis of Wensbury had forced the matter rather than her doing a favor, but anyway, she seemed to have accepted the situation.

But what about Meggy?

She was an existence that could never be accepted.

If Maria was living proof of her husband's betrayal, Meggy would be the betrayal itself.

She must have hated even her existence.

The Marchioness of Wensbury had a strong motive.

Moreover, although she said she hated it, she knew about the existence of Angela Patisserie.

One's taste would not matter when killing someone.

"Ah, Bianca."

As I was organizing my thoughts and walking down the hallway after leaving the Marchioness's room, someone called my name.

When I turned my head to look, I saw an unexpected face.

"Marquis of Wensbury?"

He nodded with a smile as his name was called.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?"

As if there was a backstory that he couldn't possibly tell in a place where other people were gathered, he spoke cautiously.

"Of course."

And so did I.