TGDHC Chapter 98

Chapter 98 — A Gentle Man

Raphael had started to say, “Actually, Sister likes men who—”

But then he spotted Annette approaching in the distance and immediately shut his mouth.

“Why are you two together?” she asked.

Loic hesitated, wondering if he should tell her Raphael had been sneaking into the training yard. But before he could, Raphael quickly slipped close to him and said:

“His Grace was showing me the training yard.”

“Oh, really?” Annette’s face lit up. She grabbed Raphael’s hand warmly.

“I was worried you’d be bored here, but thank you for keeping him company.”

She scrunched her nose playfully at Loic, making him smile despite himself.

“He’s very cute—just like you.”

Yes, this boy was definitely the Marquis’s sly little son.

***

In the end, Loic handed Raphael back to Annette and headed toward the training yard alone.

But Raphael’s earlier words kept echoing in his mind:

—“The Grand Duke isn’t my sister’s type.”

The more Loic thought about it, the heavier his chest felt, as if a stone had dropped onto his heart.

He’d already been restless these past few days—now this?

Suddenly, all his steps felt weighed down.

What was the point of training or anything else… if Annette didn’t even like his type?

He let out a long, heavy sigh.

That’s when Norton, usually silent even while guarding, suddenly spoke up:

“Please don’t worry too much.”

“About what?”

“…What Young Master Raphael said.”

“Who said I was worrying about that?” Loic snapped before Norton could explain.

Norton hesitated, then continued carefully:

“Yesterday… my sister told me something.”

Loic shot him a sharp look.

“If you don’t want to hear it—”

“Say it.”

“…It seems Lady Cecilia asked Her Grace what kind of man she liked.”

Loic froze, turning to stare at him. His eyes sharpened with tension, urging him to go on.

Norton hesitated, then said:

“She replied… that she likes gentle men.”

Loic was speechless.

Gentle?

Out of all the words in existence, “gentle” was the one that could never be used to describe Loic Blenheim.

‘So basically… she meant I’m not her type at all?’

The blood drained from his face.

“…But…” Norton trailed off, lowering his head awkwardly.

“I shouldn’t say this—it’s disrespectful—”

The veins in Loic’s neck bulged.

“…It’s fine. Say it.”

Grinding his teeth, Norton forced himself to speak.

“My sister asked if Your Grace wasn’t a little far from her ideal type. But… the Grand Duchess said that, in her eyes, you are the kindest and most gentle man in the world.”

“…What?”

Loic’s face flushed bright red like a tomato.

“Cecilia asked several times to be sure. Each time, Her Grace said what she liked most about you was your gentleness.”

Loic’s lips twitched uncontrollably. He wanted to stay composed, but the corners of his mouth kept threatening to curl upward.

“Tell me everything. In detail.”

“…I already did.”

Loic grabbed Norton by both shoulders, eyes gleaming.

“From the beginning—word for word. Don’t miss a single thing.”

Norton’s eyes wavered nervously under his master’s eager stare.

***

Elsewhere, Maisel stood outside a bookstore window for a long time.

Inside the glass display was a small booklet titled Cecil’s Recipes.

Beneath it, a large sign read:

“Monthly edition of Cecil’s Recipes now available! Includes unpublished recipes not featured in Northern News.”

While Maisel glared at it, the shopkeeper came over and slid in another sign:

“First edition sold out! Reservations available!”

‘Damn it!’

Her mood sank further.

She had just come from Café Delitar, where the merchants’ guild leader had practically blackmailed her.

—“You couldn’t even take over Northern News!”

—“Our deal was only that I’d withdraw my investment, wasn’t it? I’ve already suffered huge losses. Still, I held up my end. Now it’s time for you, my lady, to keep your promise.”

Because of the newly thriving shopping district, the guild leader’s situation had worsened. His old confidence was gone, leaving him sour and impatient.

‘I should have made taking Northern News a condition from the start.’

But honestly, Maisel’s true desire was simply to ruin the delegation’s visit and humiliate Annette.

Of course, she didn’t want to act directly.

‘I’ll use Marzella again anyway, so it doesn’t matter.’

If Marzella kept avoiding her calls, Maisel was determined to remind her what happened when she disobeyed.

She was just thinking she needed to write a letter when her maid whispered nervously:

“My lady, if you don’t return soon, Madam will notice—”

“Shut up! Stop nagging!” Maisel snapped, then quickly lowered her voice when people turned to look.

“…I’m going now.” she added in a calmer tone.

Her maid sighed in relief.

Maisel admitted inwardly that she’d become more irritable lately. Her temper flared easily, boiling over at the slightest provocation.

When that happened, touching the magic-stone necklace she had bought at the lakeside always calmed her a little.

As she absentmindedly fingered the hidden pendant, a familiar voice spoke:

“We meet again, my lady.”

Maisel looked up sharply.

It was the same hooded sorcerer she had met at the lake. From beneath his shadowed hood, those unsettling yellow eyes gleamed.

“Y-you… what are you doing here? Are you following me?”

“How arrogant you are,” he chuckled. “But that’s exactly why I like you.”

“…What?” Maisel’s ears burned red.

“Forgive me. My shop happens to be nearby, that’s all.”

“Shop?”

“More importantly, my lady…”

His yellow gaze fell on the necklace hidden at her chest.

“Did your wish come true?”

“Not at all. It was useless!” Maisel snapped, recalling her humiliation when Annette had ruined everything at the lake.

“That can’t be,” the sorcerer tilted his head.

“Think carefully. What exactly did you wish for?”

Maisel thought. That day, she had prayed desperately to meet the Grand Duke. And indeed, she had. Just when she was about to give up searching, she had encountered him by sheer luck.

‘But Annette ruined everything after that!’

“Surely you didn’t expect a necklace to magically fix all your problems?”

Maisel pressed her lips shut, annoyed because he was right.

“The charm only gives you the strength to act. The path—you must carve it yourself.”

He peered into her eyes and added:

“And since obstacles block your path, it seems you must remove them first.”

Maisel’s eyes widened.

“…How do you know that?”

“I told you, didn’t I? My god sees all things.”

“Then… what should I do?” she whispered.

“Well,” he tilted his head slyly. “At my shop, I sell many things.”

“Like what? Charms?”

His golden eyes narrowed with amusement.

He leaned in and whispered:

“Poisons that can inflict unbearable pain… and other items for those who, like you, burn with desperate desires.”

Maisel flinched at the word “poison,” instinctively stepping back.

“I—I’m not interested in that.”

No one nearby seemed to be listening, but it was still a busy street. Her maid, though discreet, was not completely trustworthy.

“Of course not,” the sorcerer said smoothly, noticing her unease. He glanced toward a narrow alley.

“But if you change your mind—my shop is down that way, second alley, at the very end. You won’t miss it.”

He tapped his temple with a knowing smile.

“You’ll find me easily.”

With that, he melted into the crowd as if he’d never been there.

“My lady, let’s hurry back,” the maid urged nervously.

If anyone had seen the young count’s daughter speaking with such a shady man, the maid knew she’d be the one punished.

“That sorcerer is dangerous, my lady. Promise me—you won’t ever visit his shop.”

“Are you crazy? Why would I go there?” Maisel said coldly, turning away.

But that very evening, a servant from the count’s household, face hidden under a hood, slipped into the sorcerer’s shop at the end of the alley.

The dim store was filled with cursed trinkets and magical objects.

The servant handed over a note and a pouch of coins.

In return, the yellow-eyed shopkeeper gave him a small vial.

Moments later, the servant vanished back into the night.

The sorcerer’s golden eyes glimmered with satisfaction.