Chapter 30
After suffering from a severe fever, Benedict remained in good health for quite a while.
He had begun learning how to govern the territory as a duke alongside his grandmother. No vassals were pushing him to take on work prematurely anymore.
That was because Emma Winfield—the current queen’s sister, a renowned botanist, and respected scholar—had ended her long seclusion and was now staying by her beloved grandson’s side.
Her influence was also beneficial for Lucien, academically speaking.
Occasionally, visitors would come to the estate wishing to meet the now publicly active scholar Emma. Whenever that happened, she made sure Benedict and Lucien were present during the discussions.
After the guests left, she would personally explain the conversation topics to Lucien in an easy-to-understand manner. Thanks to this, Lucien’s knowledge expanded significantly.
Outwardly, everything seemed to be peaceful and problem-free.
But both Lucien and Benedict carried a constant sense of unease in their hearts.
They had promised to investigate the fire that killed the former duke from a new angle, and to uncover the true nature of the Promise Crystal.
Yet neither effort had made any real progress.
They had revisited the site of the fire, but no new information had come to light. No one claimed to have seen a blond-haired person on the night of the incident.
Their only remaining hope was to find the maid who had given Lucien milk that night.
Benedict secretly searched for her with the knights, but made little headway.
The investigation into the Promise Crystal was also going nowhere.
The two of them often visited each other’s rooms or came to the garden, like today, to talk—always under their favorite dogwood tree.
“I kept reading through the past dukes’ journals, and they’re basically a collection of failures,” Benedict said with a heavy sigh, pressing his tired eyes.
“There were more than ten entries claiming to have discovered the Promise Crystal. But they all quickly followed with, ‘It wasn’t that after all.’”
“It must really be a hard gem to find. Could it still be buried somewhere?” Lucien asked.
“I don’t know. But it doesn’t seem like it’s necessarily a literal gem. Since no one could find it, they must’ve tried to think outside the box.”
“Not a gem?”
“Yeah. Some thought it might be a giant boulder in the mountains, an old chapel, or even tree sap. One theory said it was a living being.”
Whether natural or man-made, anything that could possibly house divine power had been considered a candidate.
Anything. Everything.
“So what is it, really?”
“…I’m not sure if I should say this,” Benedict murmured, turning his head slightly, avoiding her gaze.
“Reading all of that, I started wondering if… maybe my father didn’t actually find it.”
Realizing where he was going, Lucien quickly pressed her palm against his lips to stop him.
“?!”
“Don’t say that, Benedict.”
She spoke firmly.
“Don’t doubt the Duke.”
He flinched, as if about to ask, How did you know?
“There were so many failures before him—maybe that’s why the Duke succeeded. Your grandmother said that too.”
She had told them how even the many failed attempts by the visiting scholars were great accomplishments.
When Benedict lowered his gaze, Lucien reached out and cupped his face with both hands, gently forcing him to look at her.
“I believe the Duke really found the Promise Crystal. For you, Benedict.”
Surprised by the depth of her conviction, Benedict’s eyes widened.
“What about you?” she asked. “Do you believe it?”
He didn’t answer right away. He was clearly lost in thought.
His face was warm to the touch—proof enough.
“…You don’t believe it?”
“I-I do!”
“Good.”
Lucien stepped back two paces, naturally letting go of his face. Her hands dropped gently to her sides.
Although a cold wind still lingered from winter, the warmth in her palms remained. She clenched her fists to preserve it.
“We’ll find it. I’m sure of it.”
Her voice carried a natural confidence.
Just like how the pendant had returned to Alfie, the crystal the Duke found would surely return to Benedict.
Because it was the salvation the Duke had found with everything he had.
8. More Than a Boy
Time passed, and the winter when they had met melted away in an instant.
Before they knew it, it was summer.
Six months had passed since Benedict and Lucien became friends, and with their birthdays now behind them, they had both grown a year older.
Lucien could now read and write even the most difficult words.
She also learned how to use speech appropriate to different social ranks and mastered elegant etiquette that allowed her to express sincerity in any situation.
Her learning was so swift that Alfie often praised her as a “young lady who would be dignified anywhere.”
One peaceful summer day…
Lucien clutched a letter tightly in both hands and headed straight for Benedict’s office.
Up until now, she had rarely gone to his office on her own.
Partly because she was always busy studying, but mostly because she didn’t want to interrupt Benedict, who was often occupied with important discussions with Emma.
But today, she simply couldn’t contain herself.
Wearing a light blue dress with white lace fluttering around her, she ran toward his office. Her white hair, tied up high, bounced joyfully behind her.
Due to the heat, the office door was left half-open.
“But Grandmother, the townspeople think differently.”
Lucien halted in place at the sound of Benedict’s voice. It seemed he was in a serious discussion with the Dowager Duchess.
Should I come back later?
She leaned against the doorway.
She could still hear Benedict’s voice, clearly trying hard to persuade Emma.
He used to say he didn’t know if he could be a good duke…
Lucien recalled how uncertain he had been last winter.
Now, there was no trace of that confused boy burdened by the sudden weight of the title. Thanks to his grandmother’s guidance, he had grown so much.
Proud of him, Lucien smiled to herself and turned to leave. She decided to return later, once his work was done. Even if she had happy news, she didn’t want to interrupt him.
“Why aren’t you coming in?”
Startled by the voice behind her, Lucien spun around.
“Benedict?”
She had called him instinctively, forgetting where they were.
Realizing they were right in front of the office, she quickly corrected herself.
“I mean, Your Grace. How did you know I was here?”
She hadn’t peeked in, so there was no way he could’ve seen her.
“No need for formalities when we’re alone. And how did I know? Hmm… because there’s no one else it could be.”
“Huh?”
“Well, that’s all there is to it.”
He lifted one finger in the air, striking the classic pose of a storybook protagonist making a deduction.
“I only felt that someone had approached the door.”
She thought she had been silent. Yet he had noticed.
Lucien briefly wondered if he had enough talent to attend the knights’ academy.
“If it were a servant, they would’ve just passed by quietly or knocked and entered. If it were Alfie, he would’ve barged right in.”
But this time, there was only a presence—no shadow, no sound.
“So if it’s someone who’d hesitate at the door thinking, ‘He’s working, I’ll come back later,’ that could only be you.”
Proud of his deduction, he tilted his chin slightly and asked,
“So, what’s the matter?”
“I can tell you later.”
“You trying to kill me with suspense? You know I can’t stand it once I’m curious.”
He had a point—Benedict was definitely like that.
Lucien decided it would be better to just tell him. Letting him wither away from curiosity really would be bad.
“I got a letter today.”
“What kind of letter makes my friend this excited?”
“It’s not a big deal.”
Even as she said that, she hugged the letter tightly to her chest.
“Jun sent me a letter.”
“Oh! From the troupe?”
Benedict remembered, even though she hadn’t spoken about Jun that many times.
“You remembered?”
“Of course! He’s the one who taught you how to sew.”
Lucien smiled broadly in delight.
“What did the letter say that made you so happy?”
“Well… the troupe is coming to this town.”
“What? Really?”
“Yes! So I wanted to ask…”
Lucien looked at him with pleading eyes.
“Benedict, can I go see Jun?”
He nodded easily.
“You don’t need my permission. But if you’re asking—of course. I’ll go too.”
“You will?”
“Of course. There’s someone I want to see.”
“Who?”
He meant the clown, the leader of the troupe.
He wanted to ask what conversation had taken place with his father when the contract for Lucien’s protection was made.
Maybe there would be a clue about the crystal’s identity.
“…Well…”
But he didn’t want to spoil Lucien’s joy by revealing all of that.
Instead, Benedict just smiled and replied lightly,
“Ever since I met you, I’ve been curious about the people in your traveling troupe.”
Which was also true.
Especially the “Madam Jun” that Lucien often mentioned as if by habit. If she still called her in her sleep, she must’ve been someone she deeply depended on.
Unaware of his deeper thoughts, Lucien simply rejoiced.
But unfortunately, that joy wouldn’t last even three full days.
