Chapter 5 – Part 4

“Aunt.”

A muffled voice broke into the conversation the Marchioness had been dominating. Liese, who had been as still as a statue at the shocking reverberations of her mother’s suicide, turned her head.

For some reason, Marcus had been staring at the women with a straightforward smile.

“I thought you’d leave right away, but you’re still here.”

“Oh, my God.”

Astrid turned quickly, tears stealing down her face. The Duke’s gaze fell on Liese, who sat beside her. Liese blinks, not knowing what to do.

When Astrid rose to her feet, Liese did the same.

“I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye, and you left, saying you had an urgent call.”

Grinning and raising an eyebrow, Marcus strode over and swept the Marchioness into a light embrace. Trapped in her nephew’s wide embrace, Astrid seemed to swallow back tears even without looking at his face.

“Perhaps we should dine together before you go down to the manor.”

“Sure, sure. My husband will be arriving in Bachmann in a few days after his work, and we should all get together.”

“I’ll look forward to it, but I’m going to spend the rest of the day with my lover.”

It was a congratulatory gesture, but Astrid couldn’t help but feel proud, as if she were seeing her grown son.

“Spend some quality time with Miss Brennan, Marcus. She’s skinny, so feed her some food and give her some sweet treats. Will you?”

“I’ll keep that in mind. I’ll have to eat more often for my aunt’s sake.”

Laughing eyes met Liese’s. He had a way with words. Astrid patted him playfully on the shoulder.

“You’re in the prime of life, anyway, so enjoy it. It’s all good, but don’t make any rash mistakes. You know what I mean?”

“Of course I do.”

Liese was just blankly listening to the words being exchanged right in front of her, then blushed as she realized what the Marchioness meant by mistake. Heat rose to her cheeks, even though she knew it was meant as a joke.

“I’ll see you some other time, Miss Brennan. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

The Marchioness turned around and gave Liese a tight hug. Liese awkwardly accepted the hug.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, too, Lady Witrock.”

The Marchioness left the drawing room as leisurely as a fragrant wind. Now there were only two people inside. Marcus took away the smile he had been putting on at his aunt. Liese did the same. She couldn’t afford a fake smile.

… His mother committed suicide.

Marcus said it was nothing to be sad about, nothing to be serious about. It sounded like something everyone in the kingdom knew, given the way Liese, who didn’t know the circumstances, had said the world was too dark.

It meant that news of a mother who had gone to extreme lengths to mourn her late husband had spread everywhere.

She remembered the gaze directed at her, filled with pity, sympathy, feigned kindness, sadness, and even subtle negativity. Those stares, laden with all those emotions, had lingered long after the Brennan family’s fortunes had changed. It was unbearable at her young age. She had to remember her parents’ deaths every time she faced someone.

What about the Duke, who lost his mother to suicide? In a kingdom as vast as this, very few people wouldn’t know of the Baltazar family. Could he really have fully recovered?

“What’s with the look on your face?”

Marcus, reaching out, lightly touched Liese’s cheek.

“Is there something you want to say?”

Liese tried to maintain a composed expression, masking her inner turmoil with a face filled with various thoughts.

“No, nothing, Your Grace.”

“There should be.”

Marcus said as he brushed past her and sat down on the couch. Liese, who had been standing at a distance, slowly lowered herself onto the sofa opposite him. She didn’t know how to approach him.

It was the Duke who broke the uncomfortable silence.

“Lieselotte.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Don’t get your head in the clouds, Lieselotte. If the gift you bring is not to my liking, the deal is off.”

It had come.

It was fortunate that he brought up the topic directly rather than beating around the bush. If he had played word games in this situation, it would have been difficult to respond. Especially with the eloquence of a Duke who had experience tormenting others, it would have been even harder.

“I’ve thought about it a lot. Since you have so much, I wasn’t sure if anything I could give would satisfy you.”

Liese glanced at the bag on the couch, then spoke thoughtfully.

“So I’ve prepared two gifts. I’m not sure if there’s anything you’d like among them.”

Marcus looked at her for a moment. He looked quite serious.

“Actually, I love picking out gifts, especially when the recipient is someone special.”

“This time must have been quite unpleasant.”

He twisted his lips and grumbled. Although she couldn’t deny it, Liese bowed her head.

“His Excellency and I are not close, so it was a bit difficult. I don’t know anything about what you like, what hobbies you have, so…”

“Lieselotte.”

“…Yes?”

“I get it, so spare me the pretense that you’ve thought this through.”

Liese blushed, having worn her heart on her sleeve. It was obvious that she was trying to score points in the enthusiasm department, just in case he was dissatisfied.

Liese’s eyes darted from side to side, unable to make eye contact with Marcus. Then she took a determined breath, reached down, and rummaged through her bag.

“This is the first gift.”

Her trembling hands held something out. Marcus looked at it indifferently.

It was a pretty glass jar of small size. Inside the transparent jar were greenish-brown candies piled up. They looked like candies that an old person would eat.

“Candies.”

Marcus, doubting his eyes, blinks slowly.

“Did the gift meant for my grandfather end up with me by mistake?”

“No, it’s the right one.”

Anxiously, Liese spoke up.

“It’s a candy that helps you quit smoking. The reason why it’s not pretty is because it doesn’t contain any colors or sugars.”

“Is it poisonous?”

“No! It’s candies that are good for your body. You often smoke harmful cigarettes. If you’re considering quitting, I thought it might help.”

She heard all the good stuff. It was still candy for old people.

As he thought about this, Marcus noticed the faint traces of glue around the lid of the jar. It looked like Liese had ripped off the ribbon that had been attached as a decoration. Probably knowing his taste for ribbons.

Instead, a thin, dark brown rope was tied around it. Marcus couldn’t help but feel a little ridiculous about the woman’s careful wrapping.

“This is the first time in my life I’ve ever gotten candy from a grown woman.”

“I chose the gift based on what you might need, since I don’t know what you want. I hope you stay healthy for a long time…”

He understood, so he signaled her to stop acting like a granddaughter and present the next gift.

Liese sulked, but not for long. She couldn’t hide her despair at the spectacular failure of her first gift. Now her life depended on the remaining gift.

“Just a moment.”

Liese reached into her bag. What she fished out was a large, flat paper box, large enough to cover her upper body. Marcus took the object, which was so flat it could hardly be called a box, and recognized it at once.

It was a record. With a more thoughtful gaze than when he received the candies, Marcus observed the album’s cover.

It was painted with a reddish hue overall. A picture of two men and women dressed in extravagant clothes passionately dancing. Marcus had seen it several times before.

The man wears a tail coat with a swallow-tailed hem, and the woman wears an ornate headdress and a white gown with delicate lace detailing. Both are strikingly sweet in their expressions.

Interestingly, the setting of the painting is not a ballroom but a cliff with a red sky at sunset.

It’s a man and a woman dancing excitedly on a sheer, steep cliff. It was once famous for its paintings, which were open to interpretation. It was often interpreted as a couple so deeply in love that they couldn’t tell the difference or as a couple who had gone mad.

Marcus always felt that both interpretations were equally valid.

“The Waltz of Porneff.”

He didn’t need to read the words at the bottom of the cover to know the title of the record. Liese’s eyes widened at the mumbled words.

“Do you know it?”

“You can’t know.”

“I thought you might not know it because it’s an old song, though I wasn’t sure.”

Liese glanced at him. Marcus’s gaze remained fixed on the painting for a moment.

The waltz began with a flowing, lilting introduction, but the sudden rise to grandeur in the middle took on a tragic quality. The finale, which ends with a short bell chime, is hollow.

It’s like a lover falling off a cliff while spinning around in circles, unaware of the cliff in front of them. Like the cover, the song was written for a crazy lover with red cheeks and grotesque eyes.

That was Marcus’s judgment.

“Is this your second gift?”

“Yes.”