Chapter 69

Estelle grabbed the still-warm ashes with her hand. At first, it felt cold, but as the heat spread in her palm, it stung.

She shook off her hand and looked at him in confusion.

His sharp eyes were different from the Theodore she remembered.

Seeing his face up close for the first time in five years, Estelle was pulled back to the past.

‘He’s changed.’

It wasn’t just that his appearance was colder and more intimidating. His gaze was dry and frightening, like a withered poisonous plant.

He seemed like someone who knew neither forgiveness nor mercy. The blue eyes that once looked like a lake were now as black and empty as the bottom of a dried well.

They were still piercingly blue, yet immeasurably more frightening. Eyes that had endured morning, day, night, and met dawn looked hollow.

It felt like only despair remained in those eyes.

Facing him, Estelle felt deep fear.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

His lips let out a dry voice with a sigh.

Estelle looked at him with trembling eyes. His gaze was focused on the ashes she had grabbed.

Annoyed, he pressed his forehead with his index and middle fingers.

“So you’re Estelle Buchanan.”

“……!”

“Who told you you could just walk in here?”

Theodore’s furrowed brows showed deep anger. He pressed his brow and closed his eyes.

“You seemed to be in danger, Your Grace.”

“……”

“You mustn’t do this. How could you, after recovering…”

“Is this your first time seeing someone who enjoys self-harm?”

He pressed his thumb hard against his eyelid one last time, then slowly opened his eyes. The flickering anger had faded, but his gaze was still empty.

His sharp eyes tangled in the air. Estelle only wetted her dry lips.

His predatory stare made her hair stand on end. She rubbed her drying hands and looked at him, holding her breath.

“Even your name is Estelle.”

He gave a short laugh, staring straight at her. His gaze swept her from head to toe as if to dissect her.

He leaned loosely back in his chair and crossed his legs. The look in his eyes was rough.

“I’m curious what business you have interfering with mine.”

He slowly curled his lips as he asked Estelle.

He seemed deeply irritated. But she couldn’t understand.

If she hadn’t misread him, he seemed about to throw the ashes in her face. She hoped not, but the suspicion felt certain.

His unpleasant tone only made her more sure.

‘Why?’

The same question echoed. Why was he like this? Was he sick again? He looked more mature, but his heart seemed unchanged.

The gap in his demeanor stuck in Estelle’s mind.

“That’s enough.”

He sighed, waiting for her answer.

“Why are you here?”

“…The aide asked me to deliver a memo. He had to leave urgently and couldn’t tell you himself, Your Grace.”

Head bowed, Estelle approached cautiously and handed him the memo. Theodore glanced at it, then tossed it in the trash.

The office was filled with the bitter smell of cigarettes. Estelle kept her head bowed, waiting for his order.

She couldn’t leave until dismissed.

“You may go.”

As Estelle quietly stepped back, Theodore’s eyes narrowed as he watched her retreating back.

“Wait.”

“…!”

“Buchanan.”

She froze at the name.

“Turn around and look at me.”

After hesitating, Estelle slowly turned. He was watching her with sharp eyes.

The hand under his chin moved slightly.

“Take off your glasses.”

With his cheek resting on his clasped hands, the Duke commanded. Estelle hesitated, sensing he was onto something.

“Can’t you do it?”

At that, Estelle took off her glasses.

He started to rise but stopped.

Theodore saw it clearly.

A face that looked nothing like Estelle.

* * *

“Hoo…”

Estelle tried to calm her pounding heart.

As soon as she got home, her legs gave out and she collapsed. She didn’t even know how she’d managed to run all the way here.

She was so glad she’d taken the medicine. She didn’t know what kind of magic it was, but the disguise was perfect.

“Mom! Are you hurt?”

“It’s nothing, Verdeo. Mommy’s healthy. Not hurt at all.”

Estelle hugged Verdeo tightly and checked his temperature. Thankfully, her child was fine.

And, strangely, he wasn’t put off by her changed appearance.

After a hard day, Estelle went to the bathroom to wash. Much later, as she wiped her face with a towel and emerged—

She couldn’t hide her shock in the mirror.

‘…My face is back?’

Startled, she touched her face. The medicine’s effect was gone, and her original face had returned.

Estelle dug up the crow’s grave she’d buried in the dirt to check.

“…!”

The crow’s body had also reverted to its original form. Estelle bit her lip and realized.

This medicine couldn’t change her face permanently.

* * *

“You’re here again.”

A seasoned professor appeared behind Estelle as she painted in the studio after class.

It was Professor Albert, who had helped approve her admission.

They weren’t close, but she knew he liked her paintings.

“Professor.”

Estelle smiled faintly. Lately, Verdeo’s condition had improved, so she could stay at school a bit longer.

She had a painting to submit for the semester evaluation, but her pace was slower than other students.

She had to split her time, so it couldn’t be helped. That’s why she found empty classrooms and painted whenever she could.

He gazed at Estelle’s painting.

“Your previous works were all dark, but now they’re bright again.”

Estelle nodded cautiously.

“Did something change in your life? Or maybe this is your true style. I really liked your dark paintings.”

“Yes, you mentioned that.”

“I don’t think I explained why. Even in the darkness, I could feel you weren’t being swallowed by gloom, but fighting to push it away.”

He muttered with his arms crossed.

Estelle looked at her work, following his gaze.

She hadn’t had time to think, but Professor Albert’s words were similar to what Franklin had once told her.

“Anyway, you seem busy these days, so manage your time well. Don’t overdo it.”

He handed her a key.

“There’s an empty classroom you can use as a studio. It’s not just for you—two others share it.”

“…Thank you, Professor.”

“Alright. Good luck. I have high hopes for you.”

She felt overwhelmed by his kindness. Estelle packed up as the sun set.

“Time to go.”

But she wasn’t the only one left.

Theodore Giselleberg had also stopped, seeing a flickering light from a classroom as he passed the building.

He watched the studio from a distance.

To be precise, he watched her back carefully. The ambiguous figure piqued his curiosity.

“That’s the student who bumped into you, right?”

“Yes, Miss Estelle Buchanan. She helps staff as an assistant.”

Theodore knew her, of course. Wasn’t she the bold one who barged into his office?

…It was unsettling.

He kept thinking this woman was always lingering in front of him.

Was she, like so many women before, trying to taste a fleeting romance by bumping into him? Or was it just coincidence?

Why did he mistake her for Estelle?

Her hair was plain brown, and her face looked nothing like Estelle’s. The voice was similar.

But Theodore didn’t trust himself.

He didn’t trust the faint memories in his head. Losing Estelle once because of a mistake was enough.

Even so, if this woman was Estelle…