The Ruthless Circumstances of the Monstrous Duke

Marienne’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Are you hoping to find a suitable husband while serving the Duchess? I know an easier way, shall I teach you?”

“I appreciate your words, but I must decline.”

“If you’re grateful, you shouldn’t refuse. That’s the wise course of action.”

Unexpectedly, Godwin brought his nose close to Marienne’s ear.

“What perfume did you use to smell so good?”

His foul breath touched her cheek.

She shrank her shoulders and tried to pull her trapped wrist away, but the slimy Count wouldn’t let go.

“Please let go. I beg you.”

The man’s greasy gaze was disgusting and frightening.

But the more forcefully she tried to pull her hand away, the more the Count chuckled.

The bewildered Marienne looked at Nigel, but he remained expressionless even at her pleading gaze.

He even seemed bored by the obvious ploy.

Marienne’s eyes wavered.

I can’t expect help. He might even blame me for being stiff with such an important person.

As she became disheartened, the strength left her body.

The Count, perhaps finding Marienne uninteresting now that she had lost the will to resist, let go of her hand.

Watching Marienne bow slightly and flee, the Count licked his lips.

She was a mouthwatering wench he had encountered just as he was getting a headache.

He had endured the humiliation at the banquet and met with families supporting the Emperor, but to no avail.

While they were concerned about Bernac becoming the Emperor’s son-in-law, they all backed down when it came to hints about bringing him down.

Well, with the Emperor and imperial princess openly favoring Bernac and his power reaching the skies, they wouldn’t dare.

So how could he break that arrogant neck?

Returning to Louer, Godwin had no choice but to present the Emperor’s marriage dowry list to the Duke. All the while sharpening his knife.

Someday, when the time comes, he would cut off Bernac’s windpipe, even if it meant allying with Heath.

After that, he would devour everything they had built.

For the sake of his poor son who became lame after saving the young imperial princess, he had to eliminate Bernac.

While trying to endure that bastard’s antics with a knife in his heart, it was killing him, but to discover such an eye-catching wench!

A relative of Ballock? It was common knowledge that Aaron Ballock, a former commoner, had received the title of baron at Bernac’s request.

A noble young lady? Even a passing dog would laugh at that!

Boasting about his iron heart and making the imperial princess pine for him, was he secretly indulging in wenching behind her back?

Then it’s as expected. You’re no different from other men after all.

“Your Grace, I will have that woman serve me tonight. I’ll introduce a young lady from a better family to the Duchess.”

Godwin demanded without hesitation.

As the Emperor’s envoy, who could refuse him?

Though he’s a picky man, he wouldn’t go against his own interests over a mere woman.

The Count raised his thick chin while elegantly gripping his silver-crafted cane.

His muscular build and how disgustingly tall he was.

Having to look up at the young Duke made his guts twist.

Nigel asked indifferently.

“You want what’s mine?”

The Count bulged his eyes and raised his voice.

“Yours? Ha! That doesn’t seem like the right thing to say to me, who’s delivering His Majesty’s marriage proposal.”

“I thought I refused.”

“That’s why I just mentioned the dowry list, didn’t I?”

The Count, now thoroughly irritated, gripped his cane tightly.

Nigel spoke leisurely, unconcerned whether it crushed the other’s feelings or not.

“In some ways, I respect you. At your age, you still haven’t lost your ambition and volunteer to be the Emperor’s trumpet.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Count Godwin, I don’t know what you’re so desperate for from the Emperor. Nor do I want to know. But don’t covet what’s mine.”

“Shall I report that woman’s existence to His Imperial Majesty and Her Highness the imperial princess? Ambition? Trumpet? Is it worth insulting me by claiming ownership over sharing a pretty wench! Good heavens!”

Nigel’s gloved hand twitched.

He warned Godwin heavily in a monotone voice.

“If you grab my possession’s wrist one more time, I’ll cut off your hand. If you dare to look over my possession’s body again, I’ll gouge out those eyes. Insult, you say? Me, to you?”

“W-w-well I never!”

Blue veins popped on Godwin’s forehead as he trembled like an aspen tree.

“I will surely remember today’s humiliation!”

“Leave as soon as dawn breaks tomorrow. I have nothing more to say to you.”

Nigel nodded to the guard following him who was carrying a box.

The soldier approached the Count and held out a black box.

“What is this?”

Godwin stepped back at the ghastly stench. He then called his own guard to open the box lid.

Sure enough, inside was a severed man’s head.

Along with the secret parchments he had exchanged with Godwin.

The killed man was the Count’s spy planted in Louer on the Emperor’s orders.

Godwin’s face turned from white to blue.

“Count, how do you like my farewell gift?”

Godwin’s teeth ground together as his eyes bloodshot with rage.

It was the moment when the mask he wore came off, revealing his true face.

Everyone had a monstrous side. Whenever Nigel witnessed it, he felt a disgustingly thrilling shiver.

Godwin, with snake-like eyes, spewed out a venomous curse.

“Right now, the whole world may feel like it belongs to Your Grace. But there’s no sun that doesn’t set, no wind that doesn’t stop. I’ll be waiting for that day.”

“Have a safe journey back.”

As Nigel passed by, the Count shouted, overcome with anger.

“That woman had a strange scent! I’ve been around priests for decades at His Majesty’s side. Surely, you haven’t privately owned a healer, have you? It’s a serious violation of continental law for an individual to keep a healer! Do you know that?”

Nigel strode back to Godwin.

“You, you even smelled my possession’s flesh?”

Seeing the usually calm gray eyes freeze with murderous intent, Godwin trembled and stumbled backward.

“Eek!”

Then, covering his nose, he stumbled and fell on his backside.

The Count’s guards surrounded him in layers.

A violent pain struck the back of Nigel’s hand as he was about to reach for the Count. The terrible agony spread from his wrist to his arm.

Nigel, who had been glaring at Godwin as if he would tear him apart, turned around towards the inner castle while cradling his left hand. The knights followed.

Once inside the castle, he leaned against a marble pillar to catch his breath.

Benwick approached Nigel’s side.

“Commander, are you unwell somewhere?”

“Not needed. Everyone, withdraw.”

As Benwick bowed his head in place, Nigel climbed the stairs. There was no telling when Godwin might come.

He gripped the stair railing, hiding his rough breathing.

It was a pain he could never get used to. It was so severe that being cut or stabbed by a sword would have been preferable.

His vision quickly blurred, and he felt dizzy, unsure if the castle was shaking or if he was staggering.

Nigel looked up at the dizzying stairs.

His body, remembering the pain of the seizure, trembled in fear, swallowing his strong mind.

Nigel drank the potion he had kept in his inner pocket with a shaking hand.

It had a stronger effect than earlier in the year, but it was only a temporary pain relief.

Just a little more… just a little more.

Barely reaching the door, Nigel pressed his forehead against it and gasped for breath.

In an instant, his whole body heated up like a fireball, and chills ran through him.

He pounded on the door with his fist.

“Haa, haa…”

But the closed door didn’t open.

After repeatedly hitting the door, he grabbed the handle and staggered in.

Though the person he was looking for wasn’t there, the room still held their scent. Just that seemed to clear his airways.

Nigel, drenched in cold sweat, collapsed onto the bed while wrapping his trembling body. Then, lying on his side, he pulled over the blanket that was imbued with Marienne Rose’s scent.

It was a fragrance he hadn’t forgotten for a moment since that night years ago.

Nigel buried his contorted face deep into the fabric.