Chapter 55
The Name of This Feeling
After breakfast, the maids Ioan had assigned to Delphine immediately withdrew from her side.
To think they would make it so obvious they’d been watching her all this time.
So they never even intended to pretend otherwise from the start.
Left alone in the study, Delphine carefully picked up the radio and spoke into it.
“Operation. Proceeding well.”
She hadn’t really expected a reply, but a voice came through almost immediately.
[“Delphine?”]
It was Lynn’s voice.
He sounded puzzled as he followed up with another question.
[“What operation?”]
Damn. Bellie had told her to keep it a secret that she’d been ordered to seduce Ioan.
Knowing his unexpectedly firm moral code, he would no doubt object and try to stop her.
As Delphine’s eyes darted about, searching for an answer, she finally spoke.
“Uh, Bellie assigned me a separate investigation. About one of Ioan’s… no, Sir Pride’s acquaintances—”
[“Ah, you mean the Duke of Purcell?”]
“The Duke of Purcell…?”
[“The one who’s been unusually close to the Emperor lately. He seems to be connected to several suspicious incidents as well.”]
She had, in fact, heard the name before. Recently, she’d been keeping an ear on social gossip.
Apparently, the man had suddenly amassed great wealth not long ago.
But that was all she knew. If Lynn pressed for more, she would be in trouble.
Before he could ask anything further, Delphine quickly changed the subject.
“By the way, how’s La Rouge these days? I haven’t been able to visit the headquarters for a while.”
Lynn, suspecting nothing, began giving her a detailed update.
Thanks to their recent acquisition of a large quantity of phosphium, they had been conducting various magic-based operations across the Empire.
Morale among the members was at an all-time high.
Currently, their main focus was on revealing the truth about District 3 to the people living inside the central wall.
Then, as if remembering something, he added:
[“Ah, and of course, we haven’t forgotten to prepare countermeasures against the Marquis Pride.”]
Delphine flinched.
She was relieved that they were speaking over the radio.
Otherwise, the moment Ioan’s name came up, it would have been hard to hide the guilt on her face.
Lynn continued speaking in that calm tone from the other side.
[“You said he was from the red-light district of District 3, didn’t you?”]
Yes. She had indeed told them that.
The very fact he was most ashamed of—she had been the one to spill it to them.
Somewhere deep in her chest, a pang of guilt stabbed at her.
She had betrayed his secret first. And on top of that, she had decided to seduce him.
But she couldn’t afford to feel anything for Ioan anymore.
“…Yes.”
But before she could fully steady her heart, Lynn’s next words made it sink all over again.
[“Based on the information you gave us, we found where he came from.”]
“Where he came from… you mean, the place he lived before he came to Pembroke Manor?”
[“Yes. Luckily, we found someone who remembers him from that time.”]
At that moment, Delphine thought of Kelly.
Perhaps she had been one of those people too.
…Though now she could no longer ask her.
Her eyes lit up as she quickly spoke into the radio.
“I want to join that investigation.”
[“But…”]
She expected him to warn her about the danger again, but surprisingly, Lynn swallowed his words.
After a brief silence, his quiet voice returned.
[“All right. Letting you see his true self with your own eyes might be the best way.”]
“I’ll need to be away from the manor for a few days, madam.”
His tone was as graceful and gentle as ever.
Yet his cool eyes carried a glint of anger as Ioan suddenly spoke.
Delphine already knew the reason behind his words, thanks to La Rouge.
But she widened her eyes as if in ignorance and asked,
“This will be the first time you’ve left the manor since our marriage. Is something wrong?”
“It’s nothing for you to worry about. I just heard there’s been a ‘small’ disturbance near the wall in District 3.”
Graceful yet somehow savage in demeanor, he pressed the flat of his knife down on a tomato.
With a soft pop, the red pulp burst.
In a slow, almost chilling tone, he murmured,
“I need to… do a bit of cleaning.”
As she watched the watery red juice spread across the white plate, the image of her father’s blood came to mind.
The day she’d witnessed a manhunt, the screams and wails echoing everywhere.
Noticing Delphine’s pale face, Ioan quickly offered a soothing smile.
“My apologies. I shouldn’t say such things in front of you. It’s really nothing important.”
She forced a smile and nodded, playing the part of an innocent noblewoman startled by mere mention of trouble.
“I really don’t want to go… especially at a time like this.”
He sighed softly.
It was rare for him to show emotion—he usually wore his mask so well. Delphine narrowed her eyes slightly.
“What do you mean, a time like this?”
Oops—her tone had come out too sharp.
She quickly smoothed her expression and added casually,
“Has something happened at the palace?”
He chuckled softly and replied,
“It’s just that you’ve been in such good spirits lately, madam.”
His red lips curved in a gentle arc, and the corners of his brown eyes softened like a silken ribbon.
These days, he was so tender and captivating that it was hard to believe the two of them had once exchanged such sharp words.
…She didn’t know how those two sides could exist in the same man.
Delphine averted her eyes from that dangerously beautiful smile—the kind demons wore in tales when luring maidens into sin.
When he chose to be kind like this, he could shake her composure far too easily.
Not wanting him to see the complex emotions flickering across her face, she lowered her head and murmured,
“…Please return safely.”
As soon as he left, she would be going to dig into his past.
Yet here she was, offering him such polite, empty words.
Oblivious, Ioan smiled with pure, untroubled grace.
“Of course, madam. I’ll be back soon.”
With Ioan gone, Delphine slipped out of the manor without difficulty.
Netherfield Street, District 3.
She pulled her hooded cloak tighter, hiding her conspicuous red hair.
Contrary to her worry that dressing like this in broad daylight might draw attention, the street was full of cloaked figures.
“It’s true, then.”
“What is?”
Beside her, Lynn—also hooded—looked down at her.
“The cloaks. Why is everyone covering their faces?”
“For the same reason we are.”
His voice was grim, a faint smirk curling his lips.
“They’re hiding their identities while looking for something. Not the same thing we’re after, of course.”
They passed into a narrow alley lined with crimson-lit doors.
The place where Ioan had been born and raised until he was sold to Pembroke Manor.
“This is probably the lowest of the low, even among the outskirts of District 3.”
Lynn muttered, leading her deeper into the alley.
The further in they went, the narrower and darker it became.
Though she had braced herself, Delphine still felt a shock walking through the red-light district for the first time.
Vomit and empty bottles littered the streets, and here and there, people lay asleep under their cloaks—sometimes in their own sick.
Even with the sun high overhead, there wasn’t a sober adult in sight.
Only skinny children roamed the streets, most of them boys.
Ioan… you came from here to Pembroke Manor.
From this hellish place, only to be met there by… my father.
Her heart lurched painfully.
Lately, that was what happened every time she thought of Ioan.
She didn’t dare put a name to the feeling.
Whenever it surfaced, she only knew to shove it deep down, like a child hiding a forbidden act.
“Recently, our aggressive moves against Pride have yielded results,” Lynn reported quietly, still hooded.
“Nikolai was right. Pride doesn’t use black crystals.”
“How can you be sure?”
“In battle, he never holds anything but his sword—relies solely on his own body.”
Lynn’s expression soured slightly.
“…Not that it makes him any less overwhelmingly strong.”
Delphine frowned in confusion.
“But then… how did he erase his past and reappear as a marquis?”
That much, surely, could only be done with some kind of magic.
“We’ll try to find out today.”
He said it simply.
“…About a year ago, we found someone who saw him in this area.”
“You mean an acquaintance of Ioan’s—of Marquis Pride’s?”
Had he even had friends here? Or acquaintances at all?
From childhood, he’d been indifferent and cynical toward anyone but Delphine herself.
“No.”
Lynn’s answer was firm. His face remained expressionless.
“To be precise… a ‘survivor.’”
