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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: The Writing on the Wall
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When Eric returned to the ducal estate by carriage, the butler was already there to greet him.
The butler, who managed the hundred or so servants working at the ducal estate, was always impeccably dressed, without so much as a collar out of place. He always greeted guests with a benevolent and gentle smile and rarely ever showed a hint of agitation.
But as he opened the door to Eric’s carriage, he seemed a little tense. The proof was in how he started to say something the moment he saw Eric, only to stop and awkwardly change the subject.
“...The weather is quite lovely, Young Lord.”
“It looks like it’s about to rain...”
Eric furrowed his brow at the butler’s odd remark, gesturing toward the gloomy sky.
The butler gazed up at the gray sky with a crestfallen expression.
As the butler and Eric started walking through the ducal estate, servants began to stop their work one by one to greet the Young Lord.
The servants would bow respectfully to Eric, and once he passed, they would catch the butler’s eye and shoot him peculiar glances.
The butler, looking troubled, waved them off dismissively.
As he walked through the first-floor corridor, Eric noticed their exchange of glances and spoke to the butler.
“I take it my staying out all night has given everyone plenty to talk about?”
The butler cleared his throat as if the question had hit a nerve.
Indeed, Eric’s sudden night away from home was more than enough to stir up the already curious servants.
After all, Young Lord Eric had lived on his own, away from the estate, ever since joining the knightly order at the age of fourteen. In the two months since his long-awaited return, he had never once spent a night out without informing the mansion.
His behavior was a stark contrast to that of most young noblemen, who stayed out all night as a matter of course and often engaged in scandalous behavior, such as bringing home a newborn before they were even married.
The young lords who joined the knightly orders were no different. They tended to keep a woman in every province where their order was dispatched for a campaign or mission.
So when Young Lord Eric returned to the estate at the ripe age of twenty-four, the servants had braced themselves for the day some woman with a northern accent might suddenly appear at the front gate, a newborn in her arms.
But that day never came.
Far from it, Eric continued to train daily with the ducal knights, just as he had with the Royal Knightly Order, and he never even showed his face at social gatherings.
It reached the point where rumors began to circulate that ‘something was wrong with Eric.’
The butler, who had doted on Eric since childhood, was horrified by such talk, but the servants continued to gossip behind his back.
Then, on the very day that this same Young Lord Eric stayed out all night, a sinister rumor spread throughout the capital: that he and the princess had vanished from the Rose that Blooms at Night at the same time.
The butler said, “Then will you be sharing the first dance with the princess at the royal ball tonight?”
Ah, the royal ball.
Eric didn’t enjoy social gatherings. An hour in the same room with young ladies who fainted at the mere sight of him and young lords who engaged in vulgar conversation was utterly draining.
But a royal ball was unavoidable. Eric felt a headache coming on.
“Must I really dance...?”
“Not at all, but... if you wish to, I shall summon the finest dance instructor in the capital at once!”
The butler declared with unnecessary gravity.
*Dancing...*
Eric recalled Imeline from the previous night at the Rose that Blooms at Night, squirming and flailing in a bizarre dance.
She would surely be at the ball tonight. Did he have to witness that spectacle again? But more importantly...
*‘Because your father is a psychopath.’*
Why had she been so certain? Was it merely because his father had colluded with Robert?
Just then.
*Bang!*
A gunshot rang out from outside.
Eric instinctively glanced out the window, and in the same instant, he remembered Imeline in the study, her startled face turned toward the window.
Why had she been so startled?
There was only one way to find out.
“Has my father gone rabbit hunting?”
“Yes, he has.”
Eric glanced at the forest surrounding the estate and nodded.
“I see. I’ll go and get some rest now.”
“Ah, very well.”
The butler, his face full of unasked questions, watched wistfully as Eric entered his bedroom.
The butler watched Eric’s retreating form until he was out of sight, then sighed and departed.
Standing in his bedroom, Eric waited for the butler’s footsteps to fade before opening the window.
Looking out the second-story window, Eric pictured Imeline as she had dropped to the ground below.
Eric launched himself out the window.
Unlike Imeline, who had tumbled into the bushes upon landing, Eric touched down lightly and immediately entered the duke’s study, directly below his bedroom.
He was looking for the back of the document.
Eric stood before his father’s bookshelf once more. He recalled the day he had encountered Imeline in this very study.
That day, just as he was doing now, he had opened the bookshelf, stepped into the space behind it, and used the necklace to—
—open the smaller, hidden compartment behind the shelf.
Eric stared for a moment at the empty space behind the bookshelf.
He was thinking of Imeline, who had come in through that same bookshelf.
The strange woman with the tacky red hair, who switched between a southern accent and none at all, who alternated between formal and informal speech.
Without realizing it, Eric replayed the moment he had pulled her close, then shook his head as if to dispel the thought.
*A strange woman. Such a strange woman...*
To break into the ducal study so fearlessly.
He was supposed to have brought the document back today and returned it to its hiding place.
But he had let Imeline take it.
If his father had already noticed the document was missing, returning it might mean losing it for good.
Besides, for the past few days, Duke Orleans had been extremely busy with urgent correspondence with the royal family, seeking permission for the marriage.
In any case, he held the necklace that served as the key, so the odds of Duke Orleans having checked the additional secret compartment were slim.
Eric stepped into the empty space and closed the bookshelf behind him.
Darkness instantly enveloped him.
In the pitch-black darkness, Eric thought of Imeline’s hair brushing against his cheek, the sound of her breath. Her eyes, like those of a frightened cat. Her trembling fingers.
Those terrified eyes reminded him, strangely enough, of the duchess. Was it because their eye color was similar?
He waited for his eyes to adjust. As they adapted to the darkness, his field of vision gradually expanded.
Eric felt around for the compartment within the secret space.
There it was.
He was certain he had taken out the bundle of papers, selected the blank sheets, and left with only a few of the important documents.
Though now he knew those blank sheets hadn't been blank at all.
As his hands felt around, Eric suddenly froze.
Gone.
Nothing remained in the spot where he had left the back of the document.
Bewildered, Eric reached into his pocket for his light sphere, but his fingers found a book of matches first, so he pulled that out instead.
He struck the match head against the box.
Light flared, illuminating the space.
*It’s gone.*
This meant the duke had realized the document was missing.
Eric gritted his teeth, staring at the empty secret compartment.
The necklace had been in his possession the entire time, which meant there had to be another key.
With a sense of urgency, Eric brought the burning match closer to the wall.
The area near the wall seemed to shimmer slightly.
*...?*
A faint wisp of smoke curled up from the wall.
Eric frowned.
*This is...*
It was the moment Eric brought the match near the wall.
There was a spot where the smoke flowed more strongly.
The same smoke that had appeared when Imeline held a flame to the document.
He struck another match and held it to the spot, covering his mouth with his other hand.
Hidden letters slowly began to appear.
Eric’s shoulders went rigid.
His hand remained frozen in place until the match burned out.
“What is this...”
Eric fumbled for another match.
*Fsssh!*
As the new match flared to life, the faint, watery letters became clearer.
*Die, Baldeck Orleans.*
In that moment, Eric’s hand went to the necklace around his neck.
He knew that handwriting well.
It was his mother’s. Emily Orleans’s handwriting.
Baldeck Orleans was his father’s full name.
*‘Because your father is a psychopath.’*
Imeline’s words echoed in his ears.
The match went out. Eric lit another and lowered it, revealing the next sentence.
*You will never know I wrote this.*
*You believe you are the only one who knows about this damnable ink.*
*If someone finds these words, I want to make one thing clear.*
*I will never take my own life.*
*If I die, the one responsible...*
*...is that monster, Baldeck Orleans.*
Overwhelmed by the words, Eric stood frozen.
He stood there for a long time before finally opening the bookshelf door. A dark figure was standing before him.
Without thinking, Eric’s hand went to the sword at his hip.
“What, are you planning to cut me down?”
Duke Baldeck Orleans looked at his son and smiled gently.
