Benedict gripped the crumpled newspaper in both hands, staring at it as if it might burst into flames.
The Butcher ♡ Grand Duchess Richard’s Fabulous Social Debut
It was this morning’s newspaper. The article had been tucked in after a report on booming trade with the Grace Kingdom and the sudden death of a winery owner.
The Grand Duchess Elena Richard—widely known for her fated romance with the Butcher Grand Duke Richard—made a dazzling, comet-like entrance into the Empire’s high society last night at the Summer Ball.
Among the many attendees, her beauty shone above all, evoking memories of Crown Princess Vivian’s own debut three years ago, when she appeared like a flower alongside the Crown Prince, capturing the attention of many young noblemen…
“Journalists. Still a hopeless mess.”
Benedict all but hurled the paper away, a low growl rumbling in his throat. Every line of that article rubbed him the wrong way. Not because of the phrase ‘Butcher Grand Duke,’ of course—he’d long since learned to ignore such tabloid bait.
However….
‘Vivian, like a flower? She looked more like a regular person to me.’
He couldn’t help but frown at the exaggerated comparison of Elena to Vivian’s social debut three years ago, which hadn’t impressed him much.
And then there was the tawdry insinuation that young noblemen had dared flirt with a clearly married woman. The reporter responsible should be dragged into court for public indecency—and if any such bastard had truly existed, merely beheading them for insulting ‘House Richard’ would be considered lenient.
Benedict’s eyes narrowed, sharp as drawn steel.
‘…Could it have been Marquess Dione’s son?’
Benedict, suddenly thinking of a notorious rake, unconsciously reached for his sword, only to drop his hand.
‘It’s never too late to deal with him.’
He was prepared to cut down any lowlife who so much as leered at Elena. For the honor of ‘House Richard,’ of course.
He glanced down at the crumpled remains of the newspaper with dissatisfaction. The most offensive thing of all was that the coverage of Elena’s debut hadn’t made the front page—or even the second. It was buried on page five. Meanwhile, an utterly useless piece about Vivian visiting a popular up-and-coming winery for her summer ball wine had claimed page two.
“These fools don’t even know what’s important.”
Benedict glared at the sketch of Elena printed on page five. A woman with golden curls that shimmered like sunlight, clad in a soft rose-colored gown. It was a perfect rendering of Elena from last night’s ball.
If one had to compare someone to a flower, Elena fit the description far better—blushing rose-petal cheeks, the sweet fragrance blooming from her pale skin, and those soft lips…
Yes, those soft lips… the feel of them…
Crunch—.
The newspaper crumpled in Benedict’s fist as his thoughts drifted. He exhaled a sigh heavy enough to signal the end of the world.
“That woman is dangerous.”
If he was being honest, he almost lost his mind last night. That kiss had knocked his soul clean out of his body. By the end, drunk on Elena’s scent and warmth, he’d unconsciously pulled her even closer.
That talk about a ‘sixth sense’ was nothing but an excuse, there’d been no time for such instincts when every one of his five senses were so utterly overwhelmed. Truth be told, he hadn’t even realized Lawrence or the Empress were nearby until Elena told him.
‘We will not harbor any personal feelings for each other.’
Benedict silently congratulated his past self for including that clause in their contract. Without it, everything would have spiraled into disaster. Elena, driven solely by her love for him, might have smothered him with sweet kisses every single day.
“…….”
The thought made Benedict’s gaze hazy. His well-shaped lips parting slightly in that half-dream state—
“Your Highness!”
The office door slammed open with a booming voice.
“……!”
Not that he’d been doing anything wrong—but Benedict scrambled to gather the scattered newspaper pieces on his desk. His soldier’s reflexes were swift and precise: articles about Vivian or the winery were rolled and tossed in the trash, and the page with Elena’s portrait was tucked safely into his coat pocket.
Once Benedict’s composure returned, he looked at Victor as though nothing had happened.
“What is it?”
“A message from the Spencer Merchant Guild. The Young Marquess has an urgent matter and would like to postpone today’s meeting.”
“All of a sudden? Did something happen to Aiden?”
Benedict’s brow drew tight at the sudden change of schedule. The clock prototypes from the workshop Elena had founded were nearly complete, and it was time to discuss distribution with their exclusive supplier, the Spencer Merchant Guild.
“Oh, no, nothing’s wrong with the Young Marquess himself. But the owner of a winery has passed, and the estate’s being auctioned off. He says it’s an exceptional property, and he must bid on it.”
“Hmph.”
Apparently, it’s more important than the clock business.
Benedict snorted under his breath. The Spencer Merchant Guild had its fingers in every profitable venture in the Empire—now they seemed set on expanding into the liquor trade.
Seeing Benedict frowning, Victor cautiously watched him.
“He says he’ll visit the clock workshop without fail next week. Assured me the clock distribution will face no delays.”
“It had better not.”
Benedict grumbled with dissatisfaction. Aiden Spencer had been a shrewd with money since childhood. So he must have thought it would be more lucrative to quickly acquire a profitable winery over a meeting that had been arranged with the Richard workshop.
‘He’s such a businessman with clear priorities. Yet he invested in Elena with such absurd conditions.’
The memory of those grueling weeks battling bears came unbidden, souring Benedict’s mood. Aiden’s peculiar indulgence toward Elena had always sat wrong with him.
Sensing the shift, Victor changed the subject quickly, to appease his superior.
“By the way, isn’t the Grand Duchess truly remarkable?”
“Is she?”
The edge in Benedict’s voice eased just slightly after hearing praise for his wife, prompting Victor to press on, energized.
“Thanks to her brilliant business plan, the citizens of the territory are enjoying unprecedented prosperity! You can see it in their bright faces when you walk through the streets these days.”
“That’s good to hear.”
Benedict inclined his head as if it were nothing, though he was well aware of the truth—Albert’s reports showed the territory’s finances improving steadily, and warmth and laughter had returned to streets once frozen and silent.
Victor was already wearing a beaming smile and winking one eyebrow.
“No one in the world loves Your Highness more than the Grand Duchess. Everything she’s done has been for you.”
“So… it’s obvious to others as well.”
Benedict muttered under his breath at the familiar truth, rubbing a hand over his stoic face. Elena really was too guileless to hide her feelings.
“In any case, the meeting’s canceled, so your schedule’s free. Shall I set up a training session, as usual?”
“…….”
“Or… should we instead use this time for weapons maintenance?”
Victor hesitated, a little embarrassed, seeing his superior uncharacteristically pause. Normally, Benedict would never refuse physical or military drills. But now, it seemed that Benedict was thinking of something else entirely.
‘If I asked to see her, she’d definitely be pleased.’
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