LUW 54

Underground Lady — Chapter 54

Inside the tavern Cecilia had just left, silence settled.

Valdir, who repeatedly lifted and set down his ale glass, revealed a subtle hint of irritation in his gestures.

Verde Niberius—Cecilia’s grandfather and a man once hailed as the greatest inventor of his era—was widely recognized as an eccentric genius.

That’s why Valdir was convinced that the final key to uncovering the firearm’s flaw lay with Cecilia.

After all, Verde had only ever allowed one person to remain by his side: Cecilia.

Valdir had tried to casually probe her, but she’d seen right through him.

As the assassin quietly approached from behind, Valdir muttered under his breath with a sneer.

“Getting played by a girl like that… what a joke.”

The veins on the back of his hand bulged as he clenched the glass. The assassin bowed his head.

“…I apologize.”

Rather than replying, Valdir took a cigar from his inner coat pocket and bit down on it.

With the cigar in his mouth, he mumbled softly.

“…If only that damned Hakan tribesman hadn’t fled back then, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

The assassin, anticipating the next step, lit a match and offered the flame.

“If she won’t talk, then we’ll just have to make her.”

Valdir took a deep drag and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke that soon filled the tavern like mist.

“I won’t give her another chance. Make sure it’s clean this time.”

“Yes, sir.”

After another puff, Valdir stubbed out the cigar on the table and stood up.

The tavern owner, despite the intimidating behavior, said nothing and simply bowed silently.

Outside, Cecilia hurried her steps, exhaling shallow breaths.

Only when she reached the more populated main street, leaving the deserted alley behind, did the tension in her body finally begin to ease.

The bustling crowd, merchants shouting, the clatter of horse hooves—this chaotic noise gave her a strange sense of comfort.

She leaned against a wall and sank down to the ground.

Placing a hand on her chest, she tried to calm her erratically beating heart.

“Did he notice? That I was trembling?”

Her hand was visibly shaking. She swallowed the lump in her throat, but even steady breathing was difficult.

“Was I too aggressive? I should’ve stayed calm and heard more…”

Regret tangled her thoughts.

Maybe if she hadn’t pushed him away and tried to draw him out just a bit longer, she could’ve gotten some information.

But his moss-green eyes were disturbingly opaque, and the moment their eyes met, she felt a chill run down her spine—she couldn’t stay.

“If it were Pierre, he would’ve handled it more wisely.”

That man was terrifyingly composed.

He could completely conceal his unfavorable emotions and slowly ease others into revealing their true thoughts.

Suddenly, she recalled his blue eyes.

They had been piercing and cold, but deep within them resided a kindness more delicate than anyone else’s.

Now that she knew this, she missed those eyes—terribly.

As if to shake off the rising emotions, Cecilia gave her head a small shake.

“Enough. What am I expecting from someone who’s trying to rescue a Grand Duchess? I should handle my own problems.”

Even as she told herself that, Pierre’s image kept resurfacing—his blue gaze, indifferent tone, and even that final moment of hesitation.

Just then, a pair of polished shoes entered her line of sight.

Though she knew it couldn’t be, her body reacted before her brain. She looked up instinctively.

It was Leo, holding a paper bag.

“Ah, Leo…”

The disappointment was evident in her voice, and Leo’s expression darkened in response.

“Are you okay? Are you sick?”

“No, I think I just got dizzy from hunger.”

She forced a smile and took the hand Leo offered, rising to her feet.

Her cold hand made Leo subtly furrow his brow.

“Were you waiting for someone?”

“Huh? I was waiting for you.”

“…Doesn’t seem like it.”

“What did you say?”

When Cecilia asked again, Leo deftly diverted his gaze and gently tugged her hand.

“Let’s go. Your meeting’s done, right?”

His odd urgency made Cecilia tilt her head.

“Huh? Oh… yeah. But what’s in the bag?”

“Just some snacks. What about you?”

“Oh, snacks too. I got them from Miss Laon.”

Cecilia looked down at the bag of brioche she had been clutching tightly.

She’d held it so hard, everything inside was squished.

Peeking in, she gave a defeated chuckle.

“…Looks like this is ruined. I can’t eat it anymore.”

“Then give it to me. You can have this one instead.”

Leo offered his bag carefully.

Inside, an assortment of colorful cookies was neatly arranged.

“No, that’s yours.”

“I bought them for you. You like sweets.”

“But I didn’t get you anything…”

When she glanced up at him apologetically, she noticed a bead of sweat forming on his temple as he stared silently ahead.

Cecilia gently placed her hand on his forehead.

“Why are you sweating so much?”

“…Because it’s hot.”

“But it’s cold today.”

“You know I get hot easily.”

She did know—but even so, today wasn’t warm enough to sweat.

His hurried pace and evasiveness were suspicious, but she decided not to press.

Leo was clearly hiding something, but she didn’t want to push him.

After all, she wasn’t telling him everything either.

Hand in hand, they walked together toward the carriage waiting for them.

Not far from there, in a black carriage that had just arrived at the capital’s outskirts, a pair of eyes quietly observed the two.

The blue eyes couldn’t look away from their clasped hands.

Sitting silently behind the windowpane, holding his breath, was none other than Pierre.

Next to him, Ian cautiously asked:

“Your Grace, shall we disembark?”

Pierre didn’t answer.

He just kept watching Cecilia’s back—until he finally turned away.

“Let’s go.”

At the cold tone, Ian bowed silently and instructed the coachman to depart.

The black carriage disappeared down the road like the wind.

Upon arriving at the imperial palace’s conference hall, all the empire’s top nobles were already assembled.

This was a rare emergency council held ahead of war.

When Pierre, dressed in his blue military uniform, entered quietly, the murmuring inside the hall ceased.

Some nobles nodded slightly in greeting; others warily observed his expression.

Before taking his seat, Pierre knelt before the emperor.

“Your Majesty, I apologize for my tardiness.”

The emperor smiled warmly and waved him off.

“It’s fine, Duke. I know you’ve been busy. Please, sit.”

“Thank you for your grace.”

Pierre stood and took the seat beside the emperor.

Then, the emperor cleared his throat and began.

“Thank you all for coming despite your busy schedules. With war on the horizon, I wanted to first speak with you, the pillars of this empire.”

Just then, a man seated on the far left hesitantly raised his hand.

It was Count Burrow, whom Pierre had previously encountered at a banquet.

The emperor gave permission, and Burrow quickly spoke up.

“Your Majesty, forgive my impertinence, but… is it true that we are going to war with the Hakan tribe?”

“It is,” the emperor replied, short and firm.

The hall instantly fell silent.

“…If I may, isn’t war a bit premature right now, especially with the western frontier lordship vacant and political unrest growing?”

Several nobles nodded in agreement.

But the emperor responded with a calm smile.

“That is why now is the right time.”

Everyone looked puzzled.

“All peace comes after chaos. War brings disorder, yes—but also gives rise to new order. I see this as a rite of passage to make our empire stronger through necessary sacrifice and disruption.”

His words, while polished, meant one thing: crush the Hakan tribe during this moment of weakness.

As the hall buzzed with surprise, the emperor continued with a softer smile.

“And you need not worry about the frontier lordship. I will appoint someone today.”

At that, the emperor turned meaningfully toward Pierre.

All the nobles followed his gaze.

“Duke Cardinand. I ask that you temporarily take the post of western frontier marquis.”

A wave of shock swept the chamber.