Chapter 2
The funeral rites for the central aristocracy are rather unique.
When the head of a family dies, his body is buried in a cemetery prepared in the capital, where it remains for about a hundred years. After everyone who would remember his death has passed away, the body is moved to the family’s territory.
It was a custom that had arisen because, generation after generation, the heads of these families spent more time in the capital than on their own estates.
What I had to do today was scatter soil over my father’s coffin, which would be buried deep within the cemetery.
In other words, all these people had come just to watch me scatter a handful of dirt.
“Everyone must have rushed here because they’re dying to see how the Young Lady—ah, I suppose I should say Her Grace now—will react to the appearance of her former lover.”
Noah, who was helping with the ceremony behind me, kindly explained the situation.
The problem was that his kindness was completely unnecessary.
“This is ridiculous. How long ago did that even happen? Why is everyone making such a fuss?”
“No couple has caused a scandal on that scale since then, so you’ll just have to endure it.”
What is this, a relay race?
Did they really need someone to pass the baton to?
I was dumbfounded, but I didn’t respond any further. This wasn’t the time for it anyway.
The magnificent bells announcing noon gradually began to fade.
It’s time.
It was time for the new head of the family to send off the previous head.
I walked forward, relying on the fragmented view through my thick veil. At some point, the noise around me disappeared. I could feel all my senses concentrating on the scene unfolding before my eyes.
I stopped in front of a deeply excavated pit. The coffin, covered beneath a mountain of flowers, wasn’t visible at all—not even its edges.
“What use is a girl if she can’t become Empress?”
Perhaps it was because everyone had been talking about the past.
Of all things, the voice that came to my ears was my father’s hateful voice from ten years ago.
Well, Father.
The girl who you said could never become anything has ended up becoming the Duchess of Bellua.
I wonder if you’re still furious about it.
I gave a faint laugh as I looked at the coffin.
Even at the very end, I couldn’t shed a single tear. But with so many eyes watching me, I supposed I should at least pretend to cry—
“My goodness, she really came.”
“I heard he passed through the capital’s checkpoint at dawn… So did he come straight here? He even left Her Imperial Highness behind?”
Murmurs.
Whispers.
The strange excitement that followed abruptly cut off my thoughts.
I froze where I stood.
Richard.
He had come.
Why?
The first thought that entered my mind was a question.
Why? Why on earth did he come?
Was he still resentful toward me?
Or had he come just to spit on my father’s grave?
“Could it be that he still has feelings for her?”
At that moment, someone’s whisper pierced my ears.
Feelings.
Could he still…
I instinctively raised my head.
My body moved before my thoughts could catch up.
Ah.
A beat later, I realized I shouldn’t have done that.
Three days had passed since my father’s death. I had been overworked handling everything afterward, sleeping less than three hours a day.
The moment I faced the sunlight, my vision suddenly swam.
It was only after I saw the sky above me that I realized my body was tilting.
I couldn’t regain my balance.
Damn it, Father.
Now that it’s the last time, did you suddenly want to see my face after all?
There was a coffin in the deep pit, covered by thousands of flowers.
So even if I fell, I wouldn’t die.
Probably.
The moment I squeezed my eyes shut and cursed inwardly, someone roughly grabbed me.
A hot, firm hand caught my arm.
Then another hand supported my body as I began to collapse.
As I was pulled upward amid horrified screams from every direction—
“…Richard.”
I murmured his name.
And then I lost consciousness.
“My goodness. This is unbelievable. Do you know how stunned I was when the physician told me that Her Grace was sleeping soundly?”
The moment I opened my eyes, Noah began lecturing me.
“Why weren’t you sleeping at all? I specifically made sure you went into your room because I was worried something like this would happen!”
“I was just going to look over a few urgent documents in bed…”
“Hah!”
What could I do when I happened to concentrate better in bed?
When I avoided his gaze, Noah clicked his tongue.
He threatened to remove the bedside table and lamp from my bedroom immediately, then swallowed a sigh and asked,
“So, what are you going to do?”
“About what?”
“The unwelcome guest who has taken over the drawing room, insisting that he absolutely won’t leave until he sees with his own eyes that Your Grace is perfectly fine.”
“…Don’t tell me that unwelcome guest is Richard?”
“Who else would shamelessly occupy someone else’s drawing room without even being invited?”
I shot upright in shock.
“You should have told me that first!”
The first thing I saw was the pitch-black window outside.
How many hours did I sleep?
No wonder my body felt so light.
“Why didn’t you wake me?”
As I hurried across the bedroom, Noah answered incredulously.
“You want me to wake someone who collapsed from exhaustion? For the sake of a knight who looks like he could beat a monster to death with his bare hands?”
“Somehow, your opinion of Richard seems to have improved.”
Just a few days ago, he’d called him a bastard. Now he was calling him a knight.
Beside me as I hastily threw on my coat, Noah grumbled.
“I acknowledge that he deserves credit for saving Your Grace.”
Ah.
So that’s what this is about.
It was something I was grateful for.
If I’d fallen onto the coffin then, I really would have been the subject of gossip for years to come.
There were more than enough people who enjoyed gossip while pretending to worry about the safety of the Bellua ducal family.
And what about my uncle Gerard and my aunt Claire?
I pushed thoughts of the family elders into a corner of my mind and asked about Richard.
“So he’s still in the drawing room?”
“Yes.”
“Has he eaten?”
“Do we really have to feed a guest who barged in without an invitation?”
Why had he suddenly become stingy again?
“You left him hungry?”
“I had some light refreshments prepared, so if you have enough energy to worry about him, worry about yourself instead. That man could probably go without food for several days and still be perfectly fine.”
Leaving Noah clicking his tongue behind me, I quickly straightened my clothes and headed out of the room.
“Waiting another hour or two won’t kill him!”
Of course it wouldn’t kill him to starve a knight for half a day!
I hurried down the corridor.
My heart began pounding with a strange sense of anticipation.
Let’s look at nothing but the objective facts.
Richard had come to a funeral he hadn’t even received a death notice for.
He had saved me, then spent more than half a day waiting in the drawing room just to see my face.
No one would go to that much trouble just to pour out their resentment.
If so, there could only be one reason.
Still.
If he still had feelings for me…
My steps quickened with impatience.
Maybe we could start over.
By the time I grabbed the drawing room’s doorknob, my heart was beating so fast it wouldn’t have been strange if it burst right then and there.
I heard several servants notice me and hurriedly approach, but I opened the door before they could reach me.
“Rich—”
“Oh my.”
The drawing room was softly illuminated by the chandelier and the warm flames of the fireplace.
A beautiful woman sitting comfortably on a dark beige sofa looked at me and smiled.
Huh?
Why was a woman I’d never seen before sitting in the central drawing room of the Bellua ducal residence?
I unconsciously looked her over.
Her long, pale pink hair fell in soft, thick waves, and the fabric of her clothes had been reinforced here and there with the distinctive leather of the North, as though she had been traveling for a long time.
“I heard you collapsed, so I was worried. Are you all right, Duchess?”
Her deep blue eyes narrowed into crescents.
I’d never seen her before, but I knew who she was.
How?
Because she had the same eye color as that damn Damon.
“Her Imperial Highness, the Princess?”
“Oh my. You know who I am? The Princess? Don’t be so formal. Just call me Sasha. If you’re close friends with Richard, then you’re my friend too!”
“…Ah, yes.”
I answered awkwardly at her bright smile.
Your friend is my friend, and we’re all friends.
That wasn’t even a line of thinking I’d had when I was a child.
The figure hidden behind that innocent cheerfulness—which was completely out of place in high society—rose from her seat.
Jet-black hair.
Deep crimson eyes that seemed to sink heavily into their sockets.
A man with leather draped over his shoulders that looked as though it had absorbed the cold of the North itself…
“Richard Winston.”
I stared blankly at the man whose face was as cold as could be, despite once being as warm as midsummer sunlight, and murmured his name.
“You said you were meeting an old friend, and it really seems that’s the case. Duchess, you don’t need to be so nervous. Riecht may look like this, but he’s actually incredibly kind.”
Princess Sasha suddenly cut in from beside me.
She clearly thought she was mediating between two friends whose relationship had gone sour.
Then she turned to Richard and asked,
“Right, Riecht?”
That was my nickname.
My nickname.
I suppressed the emotions surging up inside me and looked at Richard.
The Richard I knew would have firmly warned Sasha to keep her distance.
But—
“That’s right, Sasha. I’m always kind to you.”
His voice was gentle, but it was deeper and rougher than I remembered.
The cold gaze that passed over me melted like warm spring sunlight the moment it landed on Sasha.
