Chapter 27
“…Your Excellency?”
The young lady, always as composed and flawless as a porcelain doll no matter the circumstance, had for the first time a distorted expression on her face.
Is he in his right mind?
Surely, that’s what she must have been thinking. Seeing that, Walter could no longer contain the laughter welling up inside him.
“Khuhkhuh.”
Grace’s eyes widened. Even Jessie, who was following them a step behind, blinked wide and tilted his head.
The man’s golden silhouette, dappled by the early morning sunlight, wavered slightly, and his low chuckle rattled somewhere deep in Grace’s chest. But only for a moment. Walter smoothed the laughter from his face as he let his gaze sweep over hers. Then, meeting Grace’s upturned eyes, he said:
“She might get angry, but at least that’ll get her up.”
“…Will you be alright?”
At Grace’s question, Jessie nodded his head enthusiastically.
Did he eat something strange? Very strange?
Walter gave another low chuckle at the doubt flickering in those green-grape eyes. It was like the clear edge of a glacier, yet it somehow didn’t feel cold. While Grace stood momentarily at a loss for words, Walter erased the smile completely. He slowly raised his eyes to the now bright sky and answered:
“I’ve always been like this.”
Yes. I’ve always been like this.
“Hurry inside. Do as I said. The Dekan royals are stubborn, and their tempers are just as fierce.”
And before Grace could answer, he turned his back.
Grace stared blankly at Walter’s retreating figure. But after only a few steps, Walter suddenly turned back and asked:
“By the way.”
“…Yes?”
“Do you know my name?”
It was barely more than a silent movement of his lips, hardly a sound at all.
Grace thought it a foolish question and gave the faintest of nods. Walter chuckled softly, then turned away as though nothing had happened.
The man’s back, outlined against the sun, looked as though it had been sketched in swift, rough strokes by a sharp pen—yet strangely delicate at the same time.
The reason he felt both unfamiliar and familiar was because Grace had pictured him every day. In moments she wanted to collapse, moments she wanted to give up, she had whispered his name like a spell.
A man bearing the name of a god of war from myth—he must surely look like this. A man who had survived the wall of death itself—he must be worthy of that name. And so, when she finally faced him, Grace had recognized him instantly. For him to ask if she knew his name—how foolish a question that was.
Grace let out a long, steady breath and turned. Just then, Mrs. Isaac appeared from the annex door.
Go on. Do as I said. The Dekan royals are stubborn, and their tempers are fierce.
As she entered the annex with Mrs. Isaac, Grace hesitantly asked:
“If I wait in the parlor, would the Great Lady agree to meet me?”
Mrs. Isaac’s brow twitched. She fell silent for a moment, clearly weighing her words, before she cautiously replied:
“…It is difficult to say, but for now……”
The Great Lady no longer felt cold, nor hunger. Even as the Marchioness of Linco gradually dismissed servants one by one and the place withered into something like a remnant of a fallen kingdom, the Great Lady seemed oblivious. Or rather, perhaps she simply didn’t care.
By the time they reached the parlor, Mrs. Isaac opened the door. Yet Grace did not step inside, instead standing lost in thought. Just as Mrs. Isaac moved to call her, Grace gave an unexpected order.
“Take me to the Great Lady’s chambers.”
“She is in her bedroom.”
“I know.”
Grace pressed forward, undeterred by Mrs. Isaac’s hesitation.
“Didn’t you say you would do anything?”
Her green eyes were unwavering, insisting that this would ultimately be for the Great Lady’s good. At last, Mrs. Isaac seemed to resolve herself.
“Follow me, then.”
＊ ＊ ＊
The one who sensed Walter’s change, aside from Grace, was Joseph.
His commander had followed the young lady out since early morning—that alone was strange. Still, Joseph quickly dismissed it.
“Well, I mean, His Excellency’s a man too. He’s not gonna treat us the same as he treats a lady, right?”
Muttering this to himself, Joseph dug at his ear while staring at Walter’s empty room.
But the moment Walter returned, Joseph knew something in him had shifted completely.
For one, the shirt he always kept buttoned up to the collar had two buttons undone. Even in midsummer, he never rolled up his sleeves, but now his cuffs were haphazardly shoved up his forearms. Walter Richmond was not a man to wander about in just a shirt. Whether in armor or formal wear, he had always maintained textbook perfection in his attire.
Now, appearing in such a disheveled manner, Walter simply sat down without a word. He snatched up a sheet of paper and quickly scrawled something before handing it to Joseph. When Joseph just stood there gaping, Walter’s thick brows twitched.
“How long are you going to stand there like an idiot, Joseph?”
Was this what it felt like to be slapped by words? Joseph snapped to attention and hurried over. Walter ordered:
“Find five empty rooms along the same corridor—desolate, no sunlight, seldom used.”
Just the description made Joseph shiver. Walter tapped the sheet with his finger.
“And summon the ones listed here.”
“Summon… all of them, sir?”
“Do I have to repeat myself every time? Can’t you understand in one go?”
Joseph’s eyes darted nervously. Meeting Walter’s sharp, disdainful gaze, he flinched and jumped into motion.
“Yes, sir!”
He tucked the paper safely into his coat and dashed out. Midway down the corridor, he paused, turned back, and muttered:
“So now… he’s not just cursing me with his eyes, he’s actually saying it out loud, huh…?”
Joseph had never thought Walter’s temper good, but he had always seemed to draw a clear line he wouldn’t cross. Now, that line was gone.
Was this completely bad? Or just moderately bad…?
He scratched his head, then peeked at the names on the paper. The first listed were nobles who managed Richmond’s finances. After a brief pause, Joseph stuck his head back into the room and asked:
“Should I put one in each room?”
“……”
“Yes, sir!!”
Before Walter could even open his mouth, Joseph slammed the door shut. The corners of his mouth twitched into a sly grin.
“Hmph… Well, I guess I’ll see what happens to those guys. That’ll tell me if this is totally bad… or just moderately bad.”
His sinister muttering dissolved into the golden light of autumn.
＊ ＊ ＊
Eliza’s bedroom was the brightest in the annex. The moment Grace stepped inside, she could tell Mrs. Isaac had done her utmost to keep it well-kept. Unlike the neglected parts of the house, this chamber was warm and clean.
And yet, despite the sunlight streaming in, the air within was heavy and cold. On the massive bed at the center lay a frail mound, rising and falling ever so slightly with shallow breaths.
“Great Lady…”
Mrs. Isaac started toward the bed, but Grace raised a hand to stop her. Instead, Grace silently surveyed the room. A covered dish sat on a round table by the headboard—likely breakfast, freshly brought in.
She might get angry, but at least that’ll get her up.
So that was the key? To rouse her, one had to make her angry? Grace wasn’t sure it was wise—but one thing was certain: waiting outside would never get her an audience with Eliza, not in a hundred years.
Eliza gave no sign of awareness as Grace approached. Whether she was truly asleep, or simply found no meaning in opening her eyes anymore, she only breathed faintly, motionless as though dead.
Then, as Grace seated herself in Mrs. Isaac’s chair, a voice came.
“…Take the food away.”
Mrs. Isaac moved instinctively to obey, but Grace’s voice cut in.
“You must eat.”
Soft, but firm enough to break through the suffocating stillness of the room. Mrs. Isaac froze, wringing her hands together.
“You must eat, Great Lady.”
As Grace pressed again, Eliza’s long-shut eyes slowly opened. Black pupils, long hidden under wrinkled lids, glimmered in the sunlight. Grace met that gaze unflinching. Eliza fixed her with a cold, unblinking stare and spoke in an icy voice:
“Arwen, how dare you do such a thing without my permission.”
