AFRPR 59

Episode 59

“Treat her. As quickly as possible.”

“At least tell me what’s going on.”

“She suddenly collapsed, probably from exhaustion.”

Claude looked at Estelle seriously.

“She’s worse than when I took her blood test.”

Claude scratched the back of his head.

“And why is her cheek like that? Did a guest hit her?”

“Are you crazy?”

Lennox, who was roughly washing his face, reacted sharply.

“So you’re just going to say she’s in bad shape and can’t be cured?”

“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying she’s not well and it’ll take effort to make a full recovery.”

Claude spoke with confidence.

“I’ll give her an injection and some medicine. In a few days, she’ll wake up.”

Before he even finished, Lennox handed him gold coins — the fee.

“No need. It’s a simple thing, so I’ll count it as free service.”

“There’s no such word as ‘free’ in your dictionary.”

“Well, sometimes there are exceptions. She’s my business partner’s wife, so I’ll let it go.”

Claude spoke like he didn’t care, though his eyes kept darting to the gold coins.

‘If you’re going to keep looking, you shouldn’t have said no in the first place.’

Lennox quietly put the coins back in his pocket.

Claude skillfully gave Estelle the injection and stood up.

“That’s all I can do. Oh, right—this is free too. Put it on her cheek.”

A small jar of ointment flew in an arc toward Lennox.

Once Claude left, the room fell silent.

“Estelle.”

Lennox called her name quietly.

But she didn’t move at all.

“Why do you always…”

Why do you keep breaking, falling apart, shattering?

How many times has this happened in your life?

He could still clearly remember the moments when he closed his eyes:

Estelle standing pale before Count Bellonsa.
That frail body shrinking in front of Matthias.
That face smiling at him, saying she finally felt like she had someone on her side.

Lennox scooped out a large amount of ointment.

He had thrown away the gloves he always wore — straight into Count Bellonsa’s face — so now his hands were bare.

The sticky feeling on his fingers was somehow more unpleasant than touching dark magic.

It felt like he had touched something he shouldn’t.

“Damn it.”

But the real thing he shouldn’t be touching wasn’t the ointment.

Muttering curses, Lennox began applying the ointment to her cheek without hesitation.

It was clumsy, but he did it carefully, wishing the wound would heal quickly.

Over and over again.

A few days later — Count Bellonsa’s mansion

“There’s no news from the Duke of Winterlen’s household?”

“No, sir. The Duke and the Duchess — I mean Estelle — haven’t gone out and have stayed quiet.”

Even after hearing this, Count Bellonsa still felt uneasy.

“Alright, go.”

The Count leaned back in his chair.

His left hand was wrapped tightly in bandages, and he held an ice pack to his swollen cheek with his right.

Matthias was on the sofa looking almost the same.

“This is all because you ran your mouth. Why did you say in front of everyone that Estelle killed her ex-husband?”

“What? Ran my mouth? How dare you say that to your father!”

The Count scowled.

He was already nervous that the Duke might have found out Estelle’s secret.
Meanwhile, his only son seemed way too relaxed.

“Don’t tell me…”

A thought flashed through the Count’s mind.

“Did the Duke kill Estelle? Is that why it’s so quiet?”

“No way. The Duke has no reason to kill her. If it were me, I’d just report her to the temple.”

Matthias’s argument made sense.

“Father, I think the Duke doesn’t know her secret. That’s why he hasn’t reported her.”

Matthias was calm because he believed this.

“Still, I can’t shake the feeling. If only we could silence the Duke forever.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. How could you possibly kill the mighty Duke of Winterlen?”

“I never said I’d kill him. I meant we need someone useful! If Vera were here, she could help.”

The Count sighed.

“Should I send a letter to Vera?”

“No. She’s studying far away, no need to worry her.”

“Either way, we have to stop Estelle before she spends all that money!”

The Count, with dark circles so deep they reached his chin from sleepless nights, mumbled tiredly:

“Yeah… we have to do something… maybe that’s the only way left…”

He was muttering ominously when—

Bang!

Without knocking, the butler burst in.

“M-My Lord! You must come at once!”

“What is it?”

“Someone from the Imperial Palace is here.”

“What? The Imperial Palace?”

The Count and Matthias ran outside in a panic.

There, waiting, were imperial knights in uniform — and Lennox.

Even Glesia was there.

The Count instantly sensed something was wrong.

The knight spoke in a stiff tone.

“Are you Count Grayson Bellonsa?”

“Y-Yes… What’s going on?”

“We received a report. You are under arrest for tax evasion. Since there’s a risk of destroying evidence, we will search your house immediately.”

“W-Wait, what?!”

“What do you mean ‘what’?”

Lennox spoke.

“It means you’re finished.”

The Count trembled as Lennox looked down at him, arms crossed.

“D-Duke Winterlen… why are you here?”

“This is my wife’s family business. I told the Imperial Palace I’d personally oversee it.”

“Ah…”

“I’ll make sure this is handled thoroughly.”

“Is this Tia’s father?”

From behind Lennox, Glesia stepped forward and looked the Count up and down.

“You said he’s not her real father, right? Makes sense. They don’t look alike at all.”

Smack.

“Oh, my mistake.”

It wasn’t a light tap — Glesia slapped the Count’s cheek hard.

It was the same cheek that had already been hit before.

“These days, my hands act faster than my words. You don’t mind, do you?”

“N-No…”

Smack.

“Oops, my hand seems really happy to see you.”

Before the Count could even finish his sentence, Glesia slapped him again.

The Count’s face was a mess, but he didn’t dare say a word.

The opponent was Winterlen, after all.

“Let’s go inside.”

Leaving the Count to Glesia, Lennox entered the mansion with the knights.

He asked a nervous servant:

“Where’s Estelle’s old room?”

“E-Excuse me?”

“The one she used before marriage.”

“This way, sir.”

As Lennox followed, he noticed a large family portrait on the wall.

Familiar faces: Count Bellonsa, Matthias, and Vera.

‘Estelle isn’t here.’

Even Vera had her own portrait in the hallway, but there was no trace of Estelle.

Not even of her biological mother.

It was as if she had been erased from existence.

“This is it.”

The servant opened the door.

“Estelle… lived here?”

For a moment, Lennox couldn’t speak.

“Yes. She stayed here after she was officially adopted.”

This meant the room held her teenage years.

And it was even worse than he expected.

“The worst.”

No sunlight — dark even in the middle of the day.
Old, outdated wallpaper.
A bed too small for a grown woman.

It was a room made just to look like a room — nothing more.

‘So that’s why she came to the north with nothing. She had nothing to bring.’

There was no sign of her personal touch here.

Even the guest house she stayed in briefly in Winterlen had been changed by her presence, but not this place.

Lennox brushed a finger over the nightstand.

Dust came off on his finger.

‘The Count knew about our marriage contract. Which means he knew she’d return in a year.’

Yet he left this room abandoned.

From just this, Lennox could tell:

Estelle had never been the beloved princess of Bellonsa.

And maybe… her last marriage hadn’t been her choice either.

Crack.

Facing the raw truth, Lennox broke the nightstand without hesitation.