“I don’t know if he met that person there. All I know is that my brother went to save him and died, and that person who I thought might be dead appeared……”

Taking a quick breath, she suppressed her surging emotions and spoke:

“Before my eyes with a different identity.”

His eyes wavered heavily as he raised his head. Clenching her fists tightly, she looked at him straight and asked with emphasis on each word:

“Don’t you have anything to say to me, Duke Lars Karaman Diconmeyer?”

She met his gaze with tension. He wasn’t someone who easily revealed his emotions. She couldn’t take her eyes off him for even a moment.

Crack. The sound of wood collapsing in the flames. After a while, Lars’s lips curved slightly. A bitter smile briefly appeared and disappeared.

“……I thought you wouldn’t just sit still, but.”

After exhaling a light sigh, a quiet voice flowed through his teeth.

“Kirhin died in my place that day. If it hadn’t been for him, I would have been the one found there.”

Her heart ached painfully, and she unconsciously pressed her chest. The rainwater that had seeped from her damp dress wet her palm.

Though she had expected this story, hearing it directly from his lips made it finally feel real. Lars’s tone was calm, but she could read the deep guilt spreading within it.

“He said he enjoyed having you around. He asked me to take care of you.”

“Then why……!”

Suddenly something welled up, and she had to swallow a breath. She didn’t want to cry like a child in front of him. So she tried to continue with a voice as composed as possible, but it wasn’t easy.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Was it so difficult to send a letter saying you were alive? Did you never think about what I might be thinking, what kind of hell I might be in?”

“Lucienne.”

Lars quietly gazed at her, as if suppressing her increasingly agitated voice.

“You have nothing to do with that matter anymore. You don’t need to worry about it. It wasn’t something you should have been involved in from the beginning.”

Her trembling lips stopped as if by a lie. Something cold sliced through her chest. She felt like she could hear the sound of the distance between them widening.

He was retreating to a place beyond her reach.

“Just live as you are now. Enjoying what you have, peacefully and safely. As you should have been.”

He clearly didn’t know. How I’ve been living these past four years, what feelings I harbor for him.

She tilted her head and barely managed to smile.

“Have you forgotten? How I used to live? I was Lucienne Gwynter. Sold by my mother for a mere ten pedir. Barely filling my stomach with bread and soup on the verge of spoiling while washing Mrs. Vino’s diapers every day.”

“Lucienne.”

“Ah, now I’m Lucienne Bickman. My brother made me his sister in a moment of whim. And then he died. So now I should just comfortably spend the Bickman family fortune?”

Lars raised his brow and stood up, fixing his gaze on her. She paid no attention and continued with upturned lips, speaking fiercely:

“Nothing to do with that matter? No need to worry? How? When the man who killed my brother still comes looking for me. When he sits in front of me playing chess with a nonchalant face. When people whisper that I’m that butcher’s lover, how can I not!”

Her outburst made Lars’s face harden.

“You……”

“Just say it. How dare someone like you dream of me. I have no intention of keeping a girl like you by my side, you’re just annoying, so please know your place and get lost! Then I’ll gladly leave into that darkness whether it rains or a storm rages. As a bonus, I’ll embrace that demon and fall into hell. That way, at least I can face my brother with a clear conscience.”

Lars’s expression suddenly changed as he strode forward and grabbed her arm. In his distorted face, green eyes burned intensely.

“What are you saying? What are you thinking about Balshwin?”

“What does it matter to you? We have no relationship anymore. You do your thing. I’ll do mine.”

“I asked what you meant, Lucienne.”

His voice was threatening, like a beast growling, but she wasn’t intimidated at all. Reason had already flown away. She feared nothing, even if her breath stopped right now. The heat rising to the top of her head made it impossible to distinguish between right and wrong.

“Haven’t you heard the rumors? The count still visits me often. At first, I thought he was monitoring me because I might meet you, since all he did was play chess. Looking back, both the count and I had foolish expectations.”

She shrugged her shoulders with a sneer.

“But at some point, I noticed his eyes looking at me differently than before. Sometimes he stares at me without breathing. As if dying of thirst. He looks at my ears, then my lips, then moves from my chest to lower. That’s when I realized.”

She smiled, looking at Lars’s lips parting in shock.

“Ah, this crazy butcher is curious about what’s under my skirt.”

“Lucienne!”

Lars roughly pulled her wrist, which he had firmly grasped. As she was drawn close to him, her head grew even dizzier. The heat seemed to be spinning inside her head.

She looked up at the face she had longed for so much, as if appreciating it. That face, still beautiful, still shaking her heart.

As if drawn by an unknown force, she raised her hand and caressed his cheek. She felt his firm jaw, tightly pulled.

Is this what they call yearning? As she gently brushed his lips with the back of her hand, she blinked. Her clouded voice flowed out like a whisper.

“Actually, I tried to kill him once but failed. Someone else died as a price. But next time, I absolutely won’t make a mistake. It will be my last chance.”

The breath coming out of her mouth felt hot. The breath that had risen to the tip of her chin was suddenly pulled down to the floor. She murmured toward the sensation of his lips on her fingertips one last time.

“So enjoy your life without worry, Duke Diconmeyer. I’ll…… protect you.”

Her vision turning black and her legs giving out happened almost simultaneously. She closed her eyes as she fell to the floor. Chills and heat were sweeping over her consciousness like waves.

* * *

Yanken, holding a teacup, couldn’t bring himself to knock on the door and instead peered into the bedroom through the gap. On the bed lay Lucienne, breathing unevenly, and beside her sat Lars, rereading the letters Hardy had sent.

Lucienne was running a fever, probably from being caught in the rain. Though he could have ordered a servant to change the cold compress on her forehead, Lars had already taken that position.

In truth, Yanken hadn’t eavesdropped on their conversation from the beginning. Of course, he had been nearby, watching for an opportunity. That’s why he could rush out and see what was happening when Lucienne raised her voice.

And that conversation completely changed his thoughts about Lucienne.

Her feelings for Lars weren’t as light as a child’s whim or simple gratitude. She truly looked like she would throw her whole body into killing Balshwin.

With that level of determination, wasn’t she already a “comrade”? If they shared the same goal they were willing to risk their lives for.

“It’s not here.”

At the sound of Lars’s voice, Yanken stepped inside. As he glanced at Lucienne’s closed eyes, Lars muttered while rubbing his forehead:

“There’s nothing about that in Hardy’s letters.”

“It must have happened before Hardy entered the Bickman mansion. Shortly after Kirhin’s death.”

Yanken said this, seeing that Lars seemed to be looking for traces of the story that Lucienne had tried to kill the butcher and failed. Lars soon tilted his head back and sighed, putting down the letters. Rarely did his expression reveal emotion, making Yanken smile slightly as he set the teacup down in front of him.

“Who would have thought she’d go that far? She’s not even Kirhin’s real sister, and though she achieved remarkable social advancement because of him, to think she’d risk her neck to kill ‘that’ Balshwin.”

“……I wonder if there’s another such reckless person in this world. She has absolutely no fear.”

Lars looked at Lucienne with an expression like he was seeing a terrible troublemaker, but there was something too gentle in his gaze. Watching him take a sip of tea, Yanken leaned against the window. There were several points in Lucienne’s words that needed to be addressed.

“I don’t think it was an exaggeration.”

Meeting Lars’s raised eyes, Yanken added:

“Even then, the count was already interested in Lucienne. It’s not strange that the nature of that interest changed. That young lady, Lady Bickman, has certainly grown into someone dazzlingly beautiful.”

Lars exhaled sharply. His face clearly showed displeasure.

“If that beast truly had such feelings, would Lucienne have been safe until now?”

“That’s what worries me more.”

“What?”

“It means he’s hoping for something more than just one night.”

At those words, veins bulged on Lars’s forehead. Yanken awkwardly turned his gaze away, clicking his tongue.

He had heard rumors that Lucienne was the count’s lover soon after arriving in Edmus. It was a rumor that reached Yanken’s ears as he discreetly inquired about Lucienne. Drunkards were gossiping that there could be no other reason for Balshwin to consistently visit the Bickman mansion for years.

In reality, Lucienne must have had to endure the count’s visits alone. Without anyone to consult or rely on, all by herself.

Thinking about the anger and fear she must have felt left a bitter taste in his mouth. If he felt this way, Lars’s feelings must be even worse.

“In that sense, the move this lady made is truly genius. Although she staked her honor, which is as precious as life to a woman, she simultaneously checked the rumors and firmly tied the commander’s ankles.”

Moreover, she fainted after getting caught in the rain and ended up staying in this castle, so Lucienne had partly achieved what she wanted. Yanken glanced at Lucienne’s pale face and shook his head. The cunning little girl had now become a clever lady whose depths were hard to fathom.

“Will you really reject her proposal?”