Chapter 39
Episode 39. Words Have No Power
2023.10.09.
Blair headed to the greenhouse annex where Agnes awaited.
Agnes, who had been reading a book, spotted Blair entering the greenhouse and rose from her seat to greet her.
“You look much healthier today, Madam.”
Agnes’s words seemed utterly innocuous, but Blair felt a pang of guilt nonetheless.
A month ago, during the time she had been confined to the bedroom by Herdin and scarcely able to leave. Blair hadn’t seen Agnes for ten straight days.
Because she couldn’t emerge from the bedroom held captive by Herdin, or even on days he was absent, exhaustion overtook her and she slept.
Thus, when she finally met Agnes after ten days, Agnes had fretted, ‘You seem thinner in the meantime.’ Mason surely hadn’t revealed the circumstances of the ducal couple to others, yet it had still left her uneasy.
So of course she looked healthier today. The one tormenting her nights had vanished.
Blair feigned composure and asked back.
“Do I?”
“Yes. Perhaps because the weather’s warmed? Anyway, I’m glad to see your health improved again.”
After exchanging greetings, the two began with light daily chatter.
Mostly Agnes sharing trivial incidents with her family, and Blair recounting Ppippi’s growth and her feelings about it.
“Shall we talk about fire-related memories today? Memories from before the accident or after are fine. Even better if they’re ones you can share enjoyably.”
As Agnes began the session as usual, Blair interrupted her.
“Madam.”
“Yes.”
“When might we try hypnosis?”
Agnes’s gaze deepened upon hearing the abrupt word.
“Something must have happened.”
Instead of answering, Blair’s pupils wavered.
The Blair whom Agnes had observed couldn’t lie.
“May I ask what happened? Of course, only if sharing it with me eases your heart.”
As Blair hesitated, Agnes seemed to read her mind and added,
“I won’t tell His Excellency anything from now on. It’ll be our secret.”
Agnes reporting counseling contents to Herdin had already been agreed upon with Blair. This counseling was one step toward the truth of the incident ten years ago, after all.
After a moment’s hesitation, Blair parted her lips.
“You said you’ve served the del Mark Duke family for a long time.”
“Yes. Both my husband and I were born into vassal families of del Mark.”
Even after hearing that, Blair fell silent for a long while before cautiously asking,
“What kind of person is the Duke, in your eyes?”
In her past life, and now returned to become his wife again. They had spent many nights together, knowing even each other’s most intimate places.
Yet she still didn’t know him.
What on earth he was thinking, whether he was truly bad enough to try killing her.
She had heard Agnes had counseled him even ten years ago, when Herdin lost his parents in an unfortunate accident.
Such a woman might know Herdin better. At least more than she, a wife in name only.
“I…… still don’t know him well.”
Seeing her own reflected pupils in the teacup, Blair lowered her gaze.
She hoped no one saw the emotions revealed in her eyes this moment. Not even herself.
* * *
“Your Excellency, I’m back—”
Russ furrowed his brow the moment he entered the office. The door opened to a rush of thick cigar smoke.
The entire office was hazy with it.
‘I thought marriage had curbed it a bit.’
Herdin was a heavy smoker. After marriage, he seemed to restrain himself for a time, but couldn’t last even a few months and reverted. It had been about a fortnight since.
‘Around then, he stopped sleeping with Madam…… Coincidence, perhaps.’
Too much of one, though—his nerves had sharpened around then too.
Russ dismissed the budding suspicion. A subordinate shouldn’t pry into his lord and lady’s affairs, nor need to know them.
Herdin, setting down his cigar, asked.
“How’d it go?”
“Just as you wished. Price negotiated well, and the deal’s underway.”
“Good work. You’re dismissed.”
Russ eyed the office thick with smoke, tempted to nag, but shut his mouth.
Herdin was lenient with subordinates, but far from harmless.
With his mood evidently foul for some reason, now wasn’t the time to provoke him.
“Then, until tomorrow.”
Gathering documents, Russ bowed. Herdin nodded curtly in reply.
After Russ left, silence enveloped the room, broken only by the clock’s ticking second hand.
Herdin’s gaze, mid-puff, fell upon the desk. Amid its pristine surface, Blair’s afterimage lingered.
The woman sprawled wantonly across his desk.
Even imagining it boiled a desire like pain. Irritation surged.
A full fortnight without seeking her. Just because she didn’t resist didn’t make it consensual. Knowing she endured those nights teeth-gritting soured his mood further.
Like opening a gift box to find it empty.
Herdin extinguished his cigar and rose. Glancing absently out the window, he spotted Blair.
She was with Agnes. Likely returning from counseling in the greenhouse.
Suddenly, that tearful glare resurfaced. Her trembling voice too.
‘I really, really hate you…….’
Words held no power.
Gazes held no force.
Thus, they hadn’t struck him in the slightest.
But the absurdity of his wife wielding them like mighty weapons—ridiculous and baffling—made them linger.
It was then, as Herdin averted his gaze from that face.
‘Again…….’
His stomach churned as if upheaved, vision whitening. Simultaneously, Blair’s face emerged.
In the memory, Blair wore a wedding dress. But it wasn’t the ceremony he remembered.
Beneath her lifted veil, tension was evident on her face.
Raising her downcast gaze to meet his, she blanked momentarily before hurriedly averting her eyes as if regaining senses.
‘At the actual wedding, her eyes were utterly impassive.’
The moment Herdin realized that, the sudden memories vanished like erased.
What on earth were these memories.
Why did things not his own keep resurfacing.
As he gathered his confused emotions, a knock sounded.
“Your Excellency. May I enter?”
It was Agnes’s voice.
“Come in.”
Herdin leaned against the window frame.
Agnes entered the office and began recounting today’s session. Omitting what Blair wished kept secret.
Truthfully, relaying that might aid them more, but she had no intention of doing so. This was their matter. Unwanted intervention was mere arrogance and rudeness.
Once the report ended, Herdin, who had listened silently, changed the subject.
“I have something to ask you.”
“Yes.”
“Déjà vu—is it only felt when a similar situation arises?”
Herdin voiced his question about the memories that had suddenly resurfaced before Agnes arrived.
His first thought upon them surfacing was that events never experienced felt already lived.
A similar symptom was déjà vu.
“Yes. No sense of it before the situation occurs.”
Yet the memories differed entirely from current situations, distancing them from déjà vu.
Then how to comprehend these abrupt recollections.
In that moment, Blair’s past words resurfaced.
‘I…… can see the future.’
Could he, like her claim, now glimpse futures or illusions?
But Herdin irritably shut his eyes, banishing the voice.
To seriously entertain seeing the future—absurd.
It couldn’t be true, nor should it be.
Agnes eyed his odd demeanor curiously and asked,
“Is something wrong?”
“……No, just feeling fatigued lately.”
“If my help is ever needed, please say so anytime.”
“I will. You’re dismissed.”
Agnes bowed and left the office.
Herdin raked back his hair and pressed his throbbing head against the cold window. The chill eased the pain somewhat.
Having cooled his head, Herdin rose and headed to the study. Much to investigate.
* * *
The carriage bearing Agnes arrived at the Lorelline estate.
The servants and butler awaiting the lady’s return greeted Agnes alighting.
“Welcome home, Madam.”
Yet their expressions were oddly grim. Before Agnes could ask, the butler spoke first.
“A guest awaits.”
Typically, nobles arranged visits at least two days in advance, even for family.
With no such appointment, it was either someone discourteous or unbound by etiquette.
One suspect came to mind.
“From the imperial family?”
“Yes. The Magrid Countess has come.”
Agnes’s face hardened.
No noble in the empire was unaware the Magrid Countess was Katrina’s closest maid.
From the start of Blair’s counseling, Herdin had anticipated Katrina learning of it.
He had forewarned Agnes.
‘If the Empress Dowager’s person comes, say you’re conducting counseling for my wife’s psychological treatment. She’s doing it for her daughter—hard to object there.’
Herdin had added,
‘No need to worry. Don’t forget del Mark stands behind you.’
Recalling that, Agnes smiled.
It struck her anew: the precarious boy who lost his parents had grown into one none dared touch.
And that he was her lord.
Agnes reaffirmed those words and headed to the drawing room, ordering the butler,
“Bring tea.”
