LUW 48

Chapter 48

Pierre had been caught by his uncles for a while before he finally made his way back to Cecilia. Taking the jacket he had left with her, he said,

“It took longer than I thought. You waited, didn’t you?”

As he put the jacket on and returned to his usual neat appearance, Cecilia looked up at him awkwardly. She still wasn’t used to how he addressed her so formally.

Sensing her gaze, Pierre met her eyes and asked,

“Is something wrong?”

After a moment of hesitation, Cecilia spoke.

“You don’t have to go that far.”

Pierre looked puzzled. Cecilia avoided his gaze as she continued,

“Thanks to you, I made it to the estate quickly. And I know you were considerate of me the whole way here. I’m so thankful I don’t even know how to express it.”

She slowly continued, her gratitude mixed with a strong sense of embarrassment. She had rushed over in a panic, only to find that the emergency was her father staging a scene out of concern.

While it might have been an emotional reunion between father and daughter, it wasn’t exactly something she wanted others to see.

To be honest, she was confused about why Pierre, who was always busy, had stayed and continued acting so warmly.

“I feel like you’ve already done everything you could…”

“And?”

Pierre waited for her to continue. Embarrassed, Cecilia pushed through.

“You treated me like a friend even here, got along with my uncles… And, more than anything, you don’t have to use formal speech with me. It feels awkward.”

“Just awkward?”

When she didn’t answer his calm question, Pierre lowered his eyes slightly, then bent down to meet her gaze.

“Cecilia.”

Calling her name firmly, he asked,

“Did I do well?”

“…Sorry?”

“I mean, I was genuinely worried and went out of my way like you said. Don’t you think I deserve some praise?”

Cecilia’s face gradually flushed red at Pierre’s words. A mixture of embarrassment and something else flickered across her face.

Pierre took in every change in her expression. Using formal speech was his go-to tactic when dealing with people who might not be friendly—it put others at ease.

Due to his social status, he usually gave off an intimidating presence. That’s why taking the initiative to be friendly helped relax the atmosphere.

When Cecilia had rushed here, tense from hearing her father was gravely ill, and then found out it was all a lie to make her come home, her expression had been a mess of relief and anger.

Pierre knew she hadn’t slept a wink in the carriage, and he hoped she wouldn’t remain stiff with tension.

That’s why he had acted unusually warm. He was planning to stop soon—but seeing Cecilia blushing and flustered over the formal speech made him feel oddly pleased.

Without realizing, his hand reached for her cheek—and just then, their eyes met.

Pierre quickly pulled his hand back and continued,

“Besides, I can’t say I’m completely innocent in how things turned out. Consider it a gesture of goodwill.”

“…Thank you. Truly.”

Cecilia looked up at him, her eyes clear and sincere.

“If it weren’t for you, I probably would’ve collapsed several times on the way here.”

Her transparent gaze was full of Pierre. He stared at her for a long moment, then gently tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

“I came here strictly as a friend, so please call me by name.”

“But…”

“Otherwise, I don’t think I’ll feel like accepting your thanks.”

Pierre teased with a gentle smile. After a short hesitation, Cecilia finally spoke.

“Thank you.”

“……”

“Pierre.”

At that single word, a faint smile lifted the corners of Pierre’s lips. Just then, a drunken man slung his arms around his buddies and called out to Cecilia from behind.

“Miss! What are you doing over there? Kenrow and Marley are about to have a drinking contest. You have to come and judge it!”

Cecilia looked at Pierre, who gave her a nod as if to say, “Go ahead.” After a moment of hesitation, she walked over to join the others. Pierre remained where he stood, watching her go.

* * *

Cargo Niberius stood at the office window, looking down below. A celebration seemed to be underway to welcome Cecilia home after so long. The household staff were piling dry wood in the backyard, lighting fires, and drinking.

Watching the scene with satisfaction, a knock came at the door. Cargo answered as if he already knew who it was.

“Come in.”

The door opened to reveal Pierre Cardinande. He gave a light bow, which Cargo returned.

“How’s your health?”

“Fine. It’s just a little embarrassing to think I looked so weak that even the Grand Duke became worried.”

Cargo answered with his usual jovial tone. Pierre looked across at him. Though he had only told Cecilia that the contents of the letter were a ruse to bring her back, Pierre could see that something had indeed changed.

Cargo’s complexion had noticeably darkened over the past few months.

He still seemed full of life, but the fatigue etched into his face was undeniable. Pierre considered asking more, but since the man himself brushed it off, he decided not to press the issue.

Pierre opened his mouth to change the subject, but Cargo was quicker.

“So, what brings you here?”

“…You seemed to know I was coming.”

“Of course. I could see the questions written all over your face.”

Pierre gave a small smile at Cargo’s perceptiveness and spoke.

“This will be made public in a few days, but the Niberius family will be cleared of suspicion.”

“Then the culprit is…”

Only two names had ever been on the list of suspects. If Niberius was cleared, that left just one.

Cargo waited for the name, but Pierre said something unexpected.

“We found schematics for the strange weapon in the office of the Margrave of Zilgork.”

Cargo’s brows furrowed at that.

“In that bastard’s house?”

Pierre gave a small nod and pulled out the weapon schematics he had brought from Zilgork’s estate.

From the beginning, something about it had felt off. Zilgork hadn’t even been on the suspect list. Even if he had access to materials, no one in his mansion had the expertise to craft such intricate weapons.

And most of all, when Pierre had first shown the schematics, Zilgork had reacted with genuine shock and rage. But during the entire interrogation, he had feigned ignorance.

Something just didn’t sit right.

Cargo unfolded the schematics Pierre handed him and looked up.

“Why are you showing me this?”

“Something about it bothers me—but it’s only a gut feeling for now. The Niberius family once led the weapons manufacturing and distribution trade for years. I came hoping you might offer some insight.”

It was for this expertise that they had once become suspects. But the fact remained: Cargo was an expert.

Cargo recalled how Pierre had recently used that very point to back him into a corner. And now, here he was, seeking advice from the same man. Not an easy thing to do.

The Grand Duke was more magnanimous than he had assumed.

Cargo gave a faint smile and turned his gaze to the schematics. After a long while of scanning them carefully, he finally spoke.

“This is definitely strange.”

“…Can you explain exactly what’s off?”

Cargo’s eyes grew sharper as he ran his hand over the old paper.

“It’s incredibly detailed. Some of the designs were clearly drafted by my father.”

“Then…”

“But the weird part is the final step. The key to this weapon is a small bomb that fires while spinning at high speed. That step requires extremely precise mixing. My father spent his whole life trying to diagram that process.”

Cargo remembered how obsessed his father had been with the weapon—even more than his own family or legacy.

“But this schematic skips that critical step entirely and substitutes with Kerginite.”