Chapter 103
At the moment of the confession, Anne grabbed his hand and pulled him toward her.
“Anne…”
Even at Anne’s small, weak touch, Hannibal was drawn to her as if carried by the wind.
He slowly brushed over her face, eyes closing gently, and pressed his lips to hers.
When he tried to hold her slight, leaning body with strength, it felt like she might shatter. Hannibal had to awkwardly stand still for a long moment, trying to hold and endure.
“Hannibal.”
“Yes… yes?”
When their lips parted, Hannibal couldn’t regain his composure. Anne tapped his arm and smiled sweetly.
“Is this your first kiss?”
“……”
The warmth that rose from the tips of his ears flushed his pale face red, and in an instant, Anne suddenly pressed her face against his chest.
“…An-Anne?”
What was this woman thinking? In the middle of the night, with only the two of them here, what did she intend to do?
“I like you.”
All his imaginings, delusions, and worries vanished instantly at Anne’s words.
“I like you too, Anne.”
Hannibal, cheeks blazing red, returned her words with a gentle tone.
Satisfied, Anne relaxed even more into his embrace and said,
“At times like this, you must hug me tightly with both arms.”
“Yes.”
Hannibal could do nothing but comply.
Looking down at her in his arms, an indescribable joy and sense of fulfillment washed over him.
“I like you, Anne.”
“I like you too, Hannibal.”
Anne and Hannibal repeated these words over and over, seemingly without tiring.
The cool, crisp night air of the glass greenhouse slowly dissipated, replaced entirely by the heat between them, lingering long after.
“Is this the agenda for the morning?”
“Yes.”
“There won’t be any estate inspections for the time being as we prepare for negotiations.”
“Yes, I’ll relay that.”
“Tell those who’ve been delaying reports or deceiving us not to expect leniency.”
“Yes.”
Hannibal’s steward, Jack, busily collected the documents he had signed.
“That’s enough for now.”
Hannibal stood up abruptly, ready to dash out. Just then, Oliver entered and blocked his way.
“Hannibal?”
“What?”
“Where are you going?”
“To have tea. I’m late, move aside.”
Though it seemed early for the morning tea, Hannibal appeared extremely impatient.
“Will you still attend to work in the afternoon, my lord?”
“Of course.”
The workaholic who often skipped meals and tea had truly changed. Oliver twitched the corner of his mouth.
“You seem so busy with your dates lately.”
“What’s your business?”
Rather than a sharp reaction, Hannibal’s hesitation in stopping showed he was merely annoyed to be delayed.
“A reply should come today.”
“Understood. Contact me when it does.”
Without another word, Hannibal passed by Oliver and quickly left.
“Seems the tea with his fiancée is really urgent.”
Oliver smirked, noticing that Jack didn’t look particularly cheerful.
“Now that there’s less work, shouldn’t you feel more at ease?”
“Yes, that’s true.”
Yet his expression appeared gloomier than when overworked. Was there another reason?
“Why? Are you uneasy about the lord spending a sweet moment with his fiancée?”
“No, not at all.”
“That doesn’t look like ‘not at all’.”
“…She’s from the capital.”
Though Jack had known Anne was from the capital, they had managed fine so far. His lingering concern probably stemmed from the capital duke still lingering in the guesthouse.
“Let’s trust the Anne Ferro we know.”
“Yes.”
Understanding Jack’s concern, Oliver silently supported the two.
He had been honestly surprised when Hannibal suddenly brought her, claiming she was the woman he liked. But Anne had proven herself a diligent head maid, and she had even tamed Victoria, once a wild girl, into a lovable, spirited lady. Oliver couldn’t deny her contributions.
“I hope this really works out this time.”
He sincerely wished that Anne Ferro would not become a new wound for him. That their rekindled affection would not be broken or abandoned.
“Are you alright, Sir Oliver?”
Jack gave a subtle glance at Oliver, who worriedly looked toward where Hannibal had gone.
“What about?”
“At this rate, Miss Victoria might follow Miss Mighty to naturalize in Luto.”
“That can’t happen. A wizard appears only once every few hundred years! We can’t lose her.”
“…Who’s worrying about whom, really.”
Jack clicked his tongue and made his ring finger shine.
“I’m… what—what are you bragging about being married for?”
Even after Hannibal left, the third-floor office remained noisy for some time.
After finally parting from his friend and steward, Hannibal headed to the first-floor parlor. Sure enough, Anne was already there.
“I’m late, Anne.”
“No, you’re always early.”
“And you are always earlier than that.”
“I have to prepare the tea. Since you’ve come so early, I have to be even more diligent.”
“No, don’t trouble yourself. Come at a time that’s comfortable for you.”
Her head shook gently as she spoke sincerely. Anne knew Hannibal considered even the smallest details for her sake.
“Is the teapot heavy? Shall I carry it?”
“Just sit still. That’s helping.”
“Yes.”
Following her instructions, he sat quietly, eyes bright and clear, following her movements.
Now that they had opened their hearts to each other, their expressions had become more candid, and it felt all the more intimate.
“Here.”
Anne brought a cookie to her lips, and Hannibal’s earlobes flushed instantly.
Just as he considered lowering his hands from embarrassment, Anne bit the cookie and his lips met her fingertips.
“…Ah… I’ll put it here.”
Why did this fleeting moment feel so slow? The touch, the warmth, the almost dangerous tension.
Anne quickly placed the other half of the cookie on Hannibal’s personal plate.
“The cookie is delicious.”
“The butter came in fresh today.”
Despite the affectionate act immediately after their confession, Hannibal was still shy in front of her, and Anne was busy changing the topic. Yet they still shared tea, meals, and walks whenever they could.
Anne adjusted to Hannibal’s schedule, making the most of their limited time together. Days seemed to pass faster than ever.
Negotiations loomed, and once the guests departed, only decisions about their relationship would remain. Would everything truly end after Gray Benton returned to the capital? Anne’s thoughts lingered there.
“Hannibal?”
He took her hand and kissed it.
“Sweet scent.”
It carried the smell of butter from the cookie she had just held.
“Are you thinking about anyone else while we’re here?”
The kiss on her palm carried meaning.
The once obedient child now glared with bright eyes, showing no attempt to hide his jealousy.
“By the way, there are still many questions about the death of Duchess Elizabeth Benton.”
“Yes?”
Suddenly, Hannibal mentioned the late Duchess.
“I’ve been investigating since returning to the west. Before the Duke discovered it, the late Duchess seemed fine. Yet immediately after tea, she was suddenly incapacitated. And the Duke shows no sign of mourning.”
“That’s true… but why bring this up now?”
It was as if he read her thoughts. Anne flinched.
“If Duke Benton is so evil as to harm the late Duchess who made me a Duke—”
Hannibal slowly cupped her cheek. Anne braced herself, wanting to lean into him.
“You are not safe either.”
His thumb brushed under her eye. The gentle touch made her tremble.
“Anne, I want to know your true feelings.”
Anne bit her lower lip as Hannibal spoke in a coaxing tone.
“Before personal revenge, a Duke of the Empire must not be a criminal. I intend to investigate him further. For that, Anne, I need your help.”
The Duke’s flaws could also become a significant blow to the faction supporting the First Prince.
Practical reasoning tempered her desire for revenge, transforming it into firm determination.
Her long-hidden desire finally emerged.
She wanted revenge if she could. She wanted to compensate for all the wounds Gray Benton had inflicted. But she couldn’t, so she hadn’t dared think about it.
“The Emperor is in a critical state, almost ready to die. He hasn’t been able to rise from his bed for some time. Once the heir is confirmed, we probably won’t share the same sky. Beyond all that—”
Hannibal brushed aside a loose strand of hair and exhaled.
“Anne, I hate Gray Benton.”
His affection was honest, unrestrained.
“Perhaps it’s the jealousy of a petty, narrow-minded man. Even if you don’t want it, Anne, I will go after him.”
That statement pleased her—perhaps because she was already madly in love with him.
Anne stood and leaned her head against his chest. Hannibal, momentarily surprised, quickly wrapped his arms around her and supported her.
“Are you alright, Anne?”
His lips brushed her crown and fell away. His arms were the safest and warmest place in the world.
Anne, tightly embraced, closed her eyes and repeated the words she had most wanted to say:
“Revenge… I want it, Hannibal.”
The hellish life with the Bentons, the people she had despised. None of it had been okay. Her true feelings had finally surged, sharp and clear.
