Chapter 118

“Hello, Your Lordship.”

Clarette greeted him with a reluctant voice. Richard, still smiling, glanced around and then spoke to her.

“It seems Duke Valentin isn’t here. I thought you’d be together.”

“His Grace went to attend the imperial event. He’ll probably return late tonight.”

“Ah, I see.”

Without Lionel, perhaps Richard would leave soon. Clarette hoped so, but Richard’s purpose didn’t seem to be Lionel.

“So you’re alone now? That’s good, I was interested in you anyway.”

“…In me?”

Richard sat heavily on the long bench behind Clarette. It was the perfect spot to see both her and her painting. Clarette felt uncomfortable under his gaze, as though he was scrutinizing her.

“Your Lordship, I’m sorry, but I don’t have much time. I need to finish my painting quickly, so if you have business, perhaps another time…”

“Miss Sollier, are you giving me orders now?”

Richard was rather prickly. Clarette realized he wasn’t going to back off easily and eventually turned her back to him.

“No, I was just letting you know my situation. Please, go ahead.”

Richard chuckled at her lack of resistance. He didn’t dislike such a compliant attitude.

“The painting you’re working on now—is it Saint Hubert escaping death? Accused of poisoning the king?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Why did you choose that scene? It’s not a common subject. Usually, people paint Hubert founding Rosenta.”

Did Earl Crowley know art well? Clarette responded carefully, not wanting to get caught out.

“I wanted to focus on human will. Even when Saint Hubert was condemned by everyone, he didn’t give in, and in the end, he proved his innocence.”

“Will, huh. Do you find yourself in need of will?”

Clarette always needed will. The criticism, suspicion, and hasty prejudice of others always followed her like a shadow.

But Clarette didn’t want to discuss personal matters with Richard.

“Not just me—everyone needs will.”

She pushed back with a neutral answer, and Richard, annoyed, stroked his chin. Clarette’s wall-building tone irritated him.

‘If you mean everyone, does that include me and Duke Valentin? What do you think?’

“What do you mean…?”

“Me and Duke Valentin. What kind of will do you think we need? What’s the greatest hardship we face?”

“I’m not sure I could possibly judge that…”

“Try.”

Clarette looked at Richard with an awkward face. He seemed intent on making her uncomfortable.

“Well, as for hardships Duke Valentin has faced…”

Like the mountain of debt, for example.

But she couldn’t mention that in front of Earl Crowley. Clarette thought hard for an answer that sounded sincere enough.

“Perhaps suddenly receiving a title itself is a kind of hardship. He rose to high status without preparation, so it must take time to adjust.”

That seemed like a safe answer. Richard smiled and replied.

“Maybe so. After all, Lionel was born a lowly illegitimate child.”

“…Your Lordship!”

Clarette was startled by the Earl’s reckless words, but he paid no mind. In the cathedral, majestic hymns and music echoed, and there was no one nearby to overhear their conversation.

As Clarette realized this, Richard stared at her and asked,

“Then what about me? What do you think is my greatest hardship?”

Clarette couldn’t answer easily and kept silent.

Richard watched her green eyes and trembling lips with interest. It was rather enjoyable to interact with a quiet commoner woman after so long.

And Clarette Sollier was pretty, as Lionel’s chosen woman. If he got the chance, he wouldn’t mind touching her. He wondered how Lionel would react if he did.

Maybe Lionel would lose control and cross the line, just like when they were children.

If that happened, it would actually be welcome. They weren’t children anymore who could be forced to reconcile by adults.

He would mobilize all his wealth, connections, and imperial law to ensure that damned illegitimate child paid a proper price…

“Duke Valentin.”

At that moment, Clarette’s words stopped Richard’s thoughts. He looked at her wide-eyed, and Clarette, though hesitant, finished her sentence.

“Your cousin, Lionel de Valentin… Isn’t he your greatest hardship and obstacle?”

He should have answered smoothly that it was too much, but Richard missed the timing. Instead, he belatedly composed himself and asked,

“Why do you think so?”

“Because, that day, at the hunting grounds…”

Clarette purposely trailed off, watching Richard’s reaction. As soon as she mentioned ‘hunting grounds,’ his eyebrows subtly rose. The hand stroking his chin moved up to cover his lips.

He looked like someone preparing to lie.

“…His Grace took the winning bullet, didn’t he? You’d always won that competition, so I thought it must have been disappointing.”

“Ah, that hunting competition. Sorry, you’re mistaken. I was disappointed, but it was a result I could accept.”

Richard replied mechanically, staring at Clarette. She was lying, just like he was. Did she already know everything?

That day at the hunting grounds, you tried to kill your thorn-in-the-side, Duke Valentin, but failed. I know your crime.

Because, when you walked the mansion corridor after that night, you looked as if everything had been taken from you.

So did this woman really influence Lionel? If her words were what made him certain about his cousin…

What a troublesome woman.

“Miss Sollier, there’s something I want to confirm.”

“Yes.”

Clarette’s mouth felt dry at his low voice. The Earl’s gaze felt sharper and sharper.

She was now sure he was the one who shot Lionel that day. As Clarette reached this certainty—

“Do you love Duke Valentin?”

Clarette suddenly felt déjà vu. The Earl’s question was similar to Thiago’s.

<Clarette, do you like that man?>

She had answered to Thiago that she liked the Duke. But there was no need to answer honestly to the Earl.

“No, I don’t love him.”

Clarette’s answer was so crisp that Richard laughed dryly. He wondered what expression Lionel would make if he heard that answer.

“You say you have no feelings, but who knows what my cousin feels. You’d better get what you can and leave that mansion quickly. Unless you want to waste your life as the Duke’s mistress.”

“Thank you for your concern, but that won’t happen, Your Lordship. If His Grace ever made such a proposal, I’d refuse, of course.”

“You’re mistaken, Miss Sollier. That isn’t your choice.”

Richard shook his head, scoffing.

“We don’t truly respect women like you, nor act gentlemanly out of sincerity. We only behave carefully because we have to, in front of others.”

“No. His Grace truly respects me.”

“Right… Estelle said the same thing. Everyone starts that way.”

“‘Estelle’? Who is that?”

“The previous Duke’s mistress. Lionel de Valentin’s birth mother. Didn’t you know her name?”

She’s the woman in the portrait.

Estelle. Clarette quietly engraved the important name in her heart.

Richard muttered leisurely, as if he understood everything.

“Well, you didn’t need to know anyway. It’s not a pleasant story.”

“I’ve heard about her. His Grace said she died when he was an infant, so he never even saw her face.”

“Don’t know how she died?”

“…Wasn’t it illness?”

Clarette didn’t know the exact cause. As she hesitated, Richard smiled, satisfied to share this with her.

“Estelle committed s*icide. Poisoned herself. There was no possibility of murder—Lionel was too young to kill his mother.”

“Your Lordship, what are you talking about…”

“Life’s obstacles, Miss Sollier.”

Richard glanced at Clarette’s unfinished sketch of Saint Hubert.

“His mother’s existence was Lionel’s greatest trial. She sacrificed herself for her child. So…”

There was deep contempt in Richard’s eyes as he continued, recalling the indifferent face of a fourteen-year-old Lionel.

“There’s been no hardship in Lionel’s life since. Because it disappeared long ago, erased by his own hand.”