Chapter 70
Rosana raised the rifle and aimed into the empty sky.
In the silence of the open field, only the whisper of wind moved.
A brown bird startled into flight, beating its wings frantically upward. Rosana, waiting for this moment, pulled the trigger.
The bullet whistled past, narrowly missing its mark.
“!”
The bird veered away, and she kept firing after it in a frenzy.
Damn it, damn it!
No matter how desperately she squeezed the trigger, the bird never fell.
“Aaagh!”
She screamed and hurled the rifle to the ground.
Nothing ever works out!
When Marsha disappeared, she thought her dreams had finally come within reach.
She thought Lucas would give up on Marsha, turn to her, and she would live a new life by his side.
Yet to the bitter end, he delayed their marriage.
And so she remained a commoner still.
Does Lucas Rom truly mean to marry that woman?
If he keeps putting it off, maybe he has someone else in mind.
Look at Pudelie’s finances these days—didn’t they take investments everywhere, claiming their daughter would soon be the Countess of Emelide?
Now they’re drowning in creditors.
Honestly, Pudelie is a terrible match in every way.
Rom’s own lineage is already lacking—why burden himself with a wife’s family just as deficient?
The gossip surrounding her made Rosana tremble with rage.
She turned on Lucas, accusing him:
You’re the one who leaves me “Pudelie,” that’s why they treat me like this!
Seems to me the problem lies with your father.
If your finances weren’t in ruins, no one would talk that way.
If you’d just pay off a little of the debt…!
Pay it off again?
Lucas frowned as though already weary.
The contempt in his voice made her shake with humiliation.
How can you say that?
Do you know how much we helped you when you were struggling?
You did.
And yet I’ve given back ten times, no, far more than what you gave me.
Lucas sighed heavily and left her with a final warning: Don’t trouble me again.
Not before I truly change my mind.
Rosana was left alone, loving him still, yet hating him so much she wanted to destroy him.
A servant, who had been hovering uneasily nearby, brought her a glass of chilled tea.
“Where is Lucas?” she asked as she took it.
“No reply has come yet, my lady,” the butler stammered, sweat glistening on his brow.
“Ha…”
Rosana drained the cup in one gulp, then stared at it.
Only then did she recognize it—the cup Marsha had cherished.
My mother chose this herself. Isn’t it pretty?
Marsha had always served her tea in this very cup.
She wanted to offer her most treasured thing to her dearest friend.
That naïve thought sickened Rosana now.
She hurled the cup to the ground.
It landed in the damp soil with a dull thud, and even the way it sank into the wet earth enraged her.
“Tell me…”
Her voice grated.
“Yes, Lady Rosanna?”
“Marsha. I thought, of course, she must be dead.”
Raised in comfort, the girl had been helpless with even simple things like boarding a train.
Then one day she vanished.
Lucas had scoured the world for her, burning with obsession, and not even a strand of her hair was found. It was only natural to assume she had fallen to wild beasts, or criminals, or something else that killed her.
“But Lucas hasn’t given up even now. Do you know why that is?”
The butler’s face tightened.
If I say it’s because he still loves her madly, she’ll only lash out.
Rosana twisted her lips into a bitter smile.
“What, you think it’s because he still loves her?”
“N-no, my lady.”
“It’s written all over your face.”
With a cold smile, she tapped his forehead with a fingertip.
“Think with this old head of yours. Four years apart. Do you really think love could last that long?”
Rosana could not accept it.
That even after all this time, Lucas still could not let Marsha go—that he left her, Rosana, in misery and loneliness because of it.
“When the body grows distant, the heart grows distant too. That’s how people are. Isn’t it?”
“Y-yes, my lady,” the butler answered reluctantly.
Rosana shoved his forehead hard, clicking her tongue.
“So I thought—why is it Lucas can’t let her go, even after four years?”
Her conclusion was simple.
“He must still be seeing her.”
“…What?”
Rosana blew across her fingertips and continued.
“He must have found her early on and hidden her somewhere, where only he can see her. Then he pretends he’s still searching, wandering about, so I won’t suspect him.”
Pretending to be busy.
Pretending to be desperate.
As if she would be fooled.
“Investigate every building Lucas owns. Even the ones bought under false names. All of them.”
The butler’s face blanched.
The task would be nearly impossible—but he could only nod.
“Answer me.”
She had picked up the discarded rifle and was now pointing it at him.
***
Petrix poured raw liquor down his throat and kicked over the table.
“Fuck!”
Glass shattered.
A flowerpot crashed to the floor.
The man pressed against the wall trembled, praying Petrix would not notice him.
“Damn it all! Nothing ever works out!”
Beatrice had ordered him not to appear before her again until she came for him herself.
If you come to me… I don’t know what I might do to you.
Her cold eyes haunted him.
If only Claudio had died, he could have borne that gaze.
Wiping his wet mouth on his sleeve, he turned to the man cowering by the wall.
“Hey. Get over here.”
The man flinched, shaking, and edged forward.
“W-what do you want me to do?”
“Fuck, do I need a reason to call you?”
Petrix slammed his boot into the man’s shin.
“Ugh!”
The man crumpled, writhing.
“Every time I look at you, I see Lucas, that bastard, and it pisses me off!”
Introducing Emelyde wine to the West had been Petrix’s business.
Lucas was only supposed to be a wholesaler, selling to him.
But somehow Lucas had maneuvered behind his back.
Recently, Count Beveridge himself announced he would deal directly with Lucas.
“He stabbed me in the back!”
Petrix stomped him mercilessly, venting his rage.
“I treated him so well! I helped him so much back then!”
Part of him wanted to expose the truth of that night and every vile thing Lucas had done.
But Lucas knew too much of Petrix’s own crimes.
Their secrets bound them together like chains.
“Ungrateful dog!”
Thud, thud.
After beating the man bloody, Petrix staggered to the sofa and collapsed.
He tipped an empty bottle to his lips.
Only a few drops trickled out.
With a snarl, he hurled the bottle at the man.
Glass shattered. The man groaned, curling in agony.
His life was unbearable.
He wanted to escape, but Petrix and Lucas held his family hostage.
The moment you betray me, your whole family is dead.
Lucas’s face—so gentle as he whispered those monstrous words—was burned into his memory.
God, what have I done?
For four years he had lived with regret.
For a moment’s greed, he had committed an unforgivable sin, and this was his punishment.
He would suffer for the rest of his days.
Even if he ended his life, hell would be waiting.
“Bring me more liquor, now!” Petrix roared.
The battered man staggered to his feet, shaking. The shelves were empty; he would have to go buy more.
But his leg throbbed, his eye was swollen shut, his mouth torn.
“If you’re slow, I’ll kill you for real!”
Petrix gave no room for delay.
The man hobbled from the office, broken.
***
At dawn, Marsha awoke and sat quietly after breakfast.
She expected the unfinished work from yesterday to be waiting, but—
The duke has said you should rest today.
The maid had smiled gently as she told her so.
Now Marsha sat still, replaying her conversation with Claudio from the night before.
Why did I flare up like that?
With sleep, her emotions had cooled, her thoughts clearer.
His words had been blunt, but not untrue.
After all, he is the Duke.
Perhaps it was only natural that he disliked hearing opinions from someone far beneath him.
…I must keep my distance.
No matter how warmly Claudio treated her, he was still the Duke.
From the moment he vowed not to deceive her, he had ceased to be “Dio.” He was no longer someone she could hold onto—he was a figure above the clouds.
Hm?
Marsha pressed a hand to her chest.
For some reason, it ached.
What’s wrong with me?
She bit her lip.
Just then, someone knocked at the door.
