Chapter 80

The target of the Earl Crowley’s domain hunting tournament was always deer.

“First, let me explain the rules.”

This year’s chief judge was the elderly Marquis Graham. Wearing a monocle, he kindly addressed the young contestants, making eye contact as he spoke.

“The highest score will be given to whoever catches the stag with the largest antlers. There are plenty of big ones in the earldom’s forest, so you can look forward to it.”

Marquis Graham then called each of the ten contestants by name and handed out quivers. When they opened the lids, each family had its own color for the arrow fletching.

Lionel stroked the blue fletching, similar to his own eye color. Marquis Graham held up an arrow and said,

“After you shoot a deer, stick your own arrow into the bullet wound as a marker. As you advance along your assigned path, workers will follow behind to collect the carcasses. Then, the judges can score you based on the color of the fletching stuck in the deer.”

“Excuse me, what does it mean to advance along your assigned path?”

Jeremy, listening, asked cautiously. Marquis Graham gave the first-time contestant a kindly smile and answered,

“The forest is large, so we’ve tied ribbons to the trees to keep you from getting lost. Each contestant has a different entrance, so be sure to follow the ribbon of your own color. Hunt diligently, and when yellow smoke rises in this clearing, return here. Now…”

With a satisfied look, the Marquis raised his hand and looked over the young men.

“Let the hunting tournament begin.”

At the starting signal, applause came from the shaded stands. The contestants mounted their horses with confidence, and soon their female partners approached, carrying flowers prepared in advance.

Lionel, mounted on Blackjack, looked down at Jasmine, who had come to see him off. Her hands were full of blue veronica flowers, matching the color of his arrow fletching.

“Why did you bring so many?”

Lionel accepted the nearly bouquet-sized veronicas and smiled. Jasmine gave him a meaningful smile and said,

“This includes Miss Solier’s share too.”

Lionel paused and stared at her. Jasmine laughed, amused.

“Oh, Your Grace. I’ve been with Miss Sollier for almost a month now—did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

“…Well, I wonder what she said to you.”

“Ask Miss Sollier yourself later. You should go now—everyone’s heading out!”

Just what had Clarette said to Jasmine? Lionel fixed a bundle of veronicas to his quiver and glanced toward the stands.

Clarette, having set aside her sketch, was already looking at him. When their eyes met, she smiled softly.

Be careful, as if sending him off with affection.

* * *

Thirty minutes after the hunting tournament began.

Amid occasional gunshots echoing from the distant forest, Lionel strolled leisurely down the woodland path on Blackjack. His quiver, still full of blue arrows, hung from the saddle, but he felt no impatience.

‘At least I’ve kept up appearances.’

As soon as he entered the forest, Lionel had quickly ridden and shot the first stag he saw, felling it with a single shot to the heart.

The deer he caught was by no means worthy of winning, but Lionel was satisfied with that. Winning such a tournament held no particular honor for him.

This was no war.

‘I just want to finish quickly and go back.’

Listening to the faint gunshots echoing through the woods, Lionel thought of Clarette. He kept recalling her eyes, frightened when he fired the gun in front of her.

<Honestly, I was scared.>

He shouldn’t have fired that day. Regretful that he’d shown her something rough, Lionel felt uneasy.

He wanted to show Clarette only a beautiful world. He wished all the cruel, miserable things in the world would pass her by. He didn’t know how to define this feeling.

‘…Ah, d*mn. I want to hold her again.’

He sighed deeply, trying to calm his longing.

“Ahhh!”

Suddenly, someone nearby cried out in surprise. Lost in thoughts of Clarette, Lionel quickly turned his head.

‘An accident?’

In a hunting ground where everyone carried guns, anything could happen. Lionel thought someone was hurt and rode toward the sound.

Soon, he found a large stag collapsed on the ground and Jeremy fallen beside it.

It seemed Jeremy had shot the stag and brought it down, but hadn’t killed it instantly. The bullet had grazed its belly, and the animal was thrashing on the ground, bleeding heavily.

And in front of this brutal scene, Jeremy was crouched, at a loss.

“Hey, Jeremy.”

“Ah… Duke Valentin.”

Lionel dismounted from Blackjack and walked over to Jeremy. The boy’s face was pale as a corpse.

“Didn’t you shoot it? Why aren’t you finishing it?”

“I… it was fine from a distance, but seeing it up close, I just can’t… ah!”

The stag writhed again, its mouth foaming with blood. Horrified, Jeremy shrank back even more.

Lionel watched for a moment, then spoke calmly.

“Jeremy, you did this. Are you going to let it keep suffering?”

But Jeremy couldn’t even touch his gun. Shooting a dying animal was too much for a sixteen-year-old boy. Maybe Jeremy wasn’t someone who could take a life.

Lionel had been the same.

He took his pistol from his belt and shot the stag in the head.

“Ugh!”

Startled by the gunshot so close, Jeremy flinched again. Lionel checked that the deer was dead, then mounted his horse.

As he started to leave, Jeremy hurriedly stopped him.

“Your Grace, you need to stick your arrow…”

“No, you do it. That size is worthy of a win.”

“What? But you…”

“Jeremy, make your family proud.”

Jeremy dropped his gaze, looking dejected. As Lionel started to leave,

“Um, Your Grace!”

Jeremy called out to him again, his voice urgent.

“I have a favor to ask.”

* * *

Richard didn’t need ribbons to guide him. In fact, even a map was unnecessary.

Richard was the master of this forest. He was confident in his shooting, and his eyesight and hearing were better than most.

“That’s enough.”

The stag Richard had just caught was satisfyingly large. While his servant stuck the arrow and handled the aftermath, he looked around from horseback.

‘I wonder how big Lionel’s catch was. It can’t be bigger than this.’

As Richard kept his cousin in mind and searched for another target, he spotted a familiar figure through the trees.

Blonde hair, large build, black horse. A quiver still full of blue arrows.

Instead of hunting, Lionel was talking to someone on horseback. Richard narrowed his eyes, glaring at his cousin who seemed to be wasting time.

‘Was he really not interested? In winning this tournament?’

Richard, who was taking the event seriously, felt his mood sink. At the same time, something boiled inside his chest.

‘He’s even left his assigned path. Completely doing as he pleases.’

There were so many things he disliked. D*mn Lionel—how far would he go in disrespecting the Crowley name?

‘A bastard who couldn’t even show his face at the ducal residence…’

Thinking about how their situations had completely reversed, Richard’s anger grew. Maybe it was the smell of gunpowder and blood in the air, but his mood sank even deeper.

‘If only you didn’t exist, the dukedom would have come to me.’

If Victor had inherited the title, Richard would’ve understood. But for an illegitimate child with no qualifications to be the Duke of Valentin—that was a disgrace to both Valentin and Crowley.

‘This can’t go on.’

Richard’s patience was running out. The blue glow of the veronica flowers, visible even from afar, grated on his nerves.

A foreigner, with blond hair and blue eyes, resembling none of the Valentins—just his mother.

After staring at Lionel for a long time, Richard suddenly thought,

Maybe he’d been choosing the hardest path all along? Ignoring the easiest way to protect the dukedom.

The easiest, fastest, surest way.

The irreversible way.

Richard unconsciously gauged the distance between himself and Lionel.

They were very far apart. Lionel’s figure, barely visible through the shaded trees, could be recognized only by Richard.

So, even if Lionel were shot, no one would know. Who shot him, or why.

‘Only Goddess Ensila would know.’

But Lionel de Valentin was a bastard. A being not permitted by the Goddess from the start.

Someone who should never have been born.

Richard raised his gun.

A gunshot rang out, echoing like a scream.