LVSFN 71

Chapter 71

There it is.

Returning to Clem’s bookstore, Adrian immediately pulled out the book The Tumultuous Renata.

Libe.

Liberata was inside this book.

My God, it was still unbelievable.

Adrian carefully embraced the book. All he could feel was the smell of old paper and the hardness of the cover.

Libe, fate can always be changed.

He remembered Liberata—always progressive, always passionate.

And fate shifts according to the one who takes the first step.

To Adrian, Liberata was someone he wanted to hold close, and at the same time, a companion he longed to walk beside.

She always led from the front, dressed simply, yet gifted with a sharp, philosophical mind. She valued the inner self above outward appearances.

No matter how he thought about it, he would never meet such a woman again.

The more he recalled his time with Liberata, the firmer Adrian’s resolve became.

If this is the chance I’ve been given, then I’ll seize it.

He settled himself and opened the book.

He had deliberately canceled all his morning and afternoon appointments. His plan was to read calmly and only retain the scenarios that might prove useful to him.

And the letter—what should he do about that?

He glanced around before unfolding it. The words were brimming with affection for Liberata.

When he had set out from his estate, his heart had not been this unsettled. Yet the moment he faced the book, a strange turmoil welled up inside him.

This won’t do.

I can’t deliver this as it is. If I do… Libe will only be confused.

Adrian pulled out paper and pen from his inner pocket. He congratulated himself for having the foresight to bring them.

He tried imitating Jerelac’s handwriting—neat yet powerful strokes. Writing slowly, he managed to produce something convincing.

Unless someone was a handwriting expert, they wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

Yes, this should be good enough.

Adrian’s hand moved faster and faster.

“Everyone, out—now!”

Back at the mansion, Frederic was in a frenzy.

He could hardly calm himself as he shouted again and again.

“Marte! Rohen! Grania!”

Hearing the uproar from below, Grania opened her door and stepped into the corridor.

“What’s going on?”

While Elome blinked in confusion, Frederic’s booming voice echoed through the halls.

“It seems the master is furious,” Elome murmured.

Grania, her face tense, started toward the stairs.

Her father Frederic wasn’t exactly violent, but his temper was wild and unrestrained.

“Grania, what’s wrong with Father?”

Looking back, she saw Marte coming out of his room.

As the eldest son of the Shurein family, he had inherited his father’s large build, though his features were more refined.

“I don’t know,” Grania replied.

When the two descended the stairs, Frederic, face flushed, turned toward them.

“Father, what’s the matter?” Marte asked.

Frederic yanked open his jacket buttons with a sharp motion.

“I just came back from seeing His Grace the Grand Duke.”

At those words, Grania’s expression shifted.

What business did Father have with His Grace?

On any other day she might have felt excitement, but from Frederic’s face, it was clear the matter was not favorable.

She forced herself to breathe steadily, trying to mask her unease.

“He summoned me,” Frederic continued, “saying there had been some very disgraceful affair.”

“A disgraceful affair?” Marte echoed.

Frederic’s face turned red again, as crimson as his hair.

“Where is Rohen? And your mother?”

The butler quickly stepped in.

“My lady is at a luncheon with Lady Harrington, and Young Master Rohen went out this morning and has yet to return.”

“Father, what exactly happened?” Marte pressed in frustration.

Frederic, still bristling with anger, snapped,

“I’ll get straight to the point. Who removed the astrologer’s hut hired by His Grace?”

Marte tilted his head in puzzlement.

“The astrologer’s hut? I know nothing of it, Father.”

Frederic turned his sharp gaze on Grania.

“Grania, was it you?”

His voice was so cold it chilled the air.

“No, Father.”

Grania answered without changing her expression, though her heart was hammering wildly.

“If not you two, then it must have been Rohen—or your mother.”

Frederic muttered darkly, and Marte stepped in again.

“Father, please explain clearly. What astrologer did His Grace employ?”

“I don’t know the details. That’s all His Grace would say.”

Whether drained from shouting or simply worn out, Frederic trudged to the sofa and sank down heavily.

The butler signaled, and a maid hurried over with a glass of water, setting it before him.

“According to His Grace’s aide,” Frederic continued after draining the glass, “the ones who tore down the astrologer’s hut were people from our household.”

“What? From our household?” Marte exclaimed.

“Who would dare such a thing? To destroy another’s property—no, worse, the hut of someone His Grace himself had engaged!”

“Exactly. And His Grace is furious over it.”

Marte’s face turned as grim as his father’s.

All the while, Grania—who had been keeping her composure—now let her features show faint alarm.

“Grania, have you heard anything? From your mother or Rohen, perhaps?”

Grania shook her head stiffly, her expression frozen.

“No, this is the first I’ve heard of it.”

Her voice quivered at the end.

“Of course. Why would Grania do such a thing?” Marte interjected.

“Anyway,” Frederic groaned, clutching his head with both hands, “His Grace has ordered that those who tore down the hut be brought before him.”

“What?” Marte was startled, but Grania’s face turned pale as paper.

“I told him I knew nothing and couldn’t say who was responsible, but it was useless. His Grace won’t let this go.”

“Could it have been Rohen?” Marte muttered.

“It might have been your mother,” Frederic said, his eyes narrowing.

“I’ve heard she’s joined other ladies in dabbling with fortune-telling cards.”

“Mother?” Marte frowned.

“Yes. So perhaps… it was her, not Rohen.”

Marte sighed deeply and sat beside his father.

“Then what are we to do now?”

Frederic suddenly lifted his head as if struck by a thought.

“Grania.”

Grania, who had been biting her lip nervously, jumped at her name.

“Yes, Father.”

“From now on, watch your conduct carefully.”

“…”

“His Grace does not look kindly on the fact that you gathered in groups, gossiping, while his fiancée is still missing.”

Grania lowered her head in silence.

Every word out of her father’s mouth pierced her like a thorn.

Fiancée. Displeased with you.

His Grace is displeased with me.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

“He said he would overlook it this time, but remember—there will be no next time.”

“Yes, Father. I’ll be careful.”

“Good. Then go back upstairs, Grania.”

With a demure bow, she excused herself and ascended with Elome back to her room.

Click.

Even after the door closed, Grania stood speechless for a long time.

Elome quietly locked the door and came closer. Grania was gnawing at her thumbnail.

“My lady.”

Grania’s state was visibly unstable.

“Elome, what does this mean? What am I supposed to do now?”

“My lady, please calm yourself.”

“Calm down? Do I look like I can be calm right now?” Grania snapped, her voice sharp as a blade.

“My lady…”

“An astrologer hired by His Grace? That’s nonsense! It was me. I did it!”

Elome nearly stumbled in shock.

“My lady, lower your voice!”

“Did His Grace discover something? Has he already realized?”

“No, impossible, my lady. He couldn’t have.”

“Elome.”

Grania’s face, pale with fear and agitation, suddenly shifted. She grasped Elome’s hand tightly.

“Elome, I beg you.”

Her grip trembled with desperation.

“If it comes to the worst—say it was you.”