TRACR 39

Chapter 39

Duke Julian Johannes at first treated him with the warm face of a kind man.

Eustaf, who had been tense because of the Duke’s notorious reputation, relaxed for a moment.

He had this strange belief that all handsome men must have terrible tempers.

“Because mine is absolute trash.”

But Julian shook that belief.

The Duke was always courteous and considerate of Eustaf’s needs.

Even when Eustaf left his laboratory in a complete mess, the next morning everything was spotless.

Compared to his past, when he often skipped meals while absorbed in research, here he received well-balanced meals right on time.

If he tried to skip a meal, a servant would rush in and literally spoon-feed him.

And it was always a menu prepared with fresh, seasonal vegetables suited to his taste.

“Is this heaven?”

Eustaf could hardly believe his luck.

Following Rebecca’s suggestion, he once told the Duke that he wanted to bring in some carnivorous plants, wondering if the Duke truly wouldn’t interfere.

“That won’t be difficult.”

Without a word, Julian signed the papers, and a few days later the plants Eustaf wanted arrived by direct delivery.

“Money really is something.”

Seeing the plants in better condition than ever, Eustaf resolved to devote his life here.

But then—

BANG—!

It was a day he had finally dozed off after tending devil’s claw until dawn.

Julian suddenly burst through the door.

“Now! Do you think you have time to sleep idly?”

He grabbed the half-asleep Eustaf by the collar without warning.

“Two months. In two months you’d better have devil’s claw grown to usable form.”

Eustaf, struck like lightning from the blue, saw the Duke’s golden eyes blazing cold and screamed.

“Damn it. I should’ve run away then.”

From that day on, the Duke visited the lab every single day.

“Still not done? Your competence is seriously in doubt.”

“If you’ve got time to eat, it seems I’ve been too lenient.”

“Do you have talent only for killing plants? How can a perfectly fine sprout die overnight?”

Duke Julian Johannes was utterly insane. He didn’t know the first thing about plants, yet hounded him endlessly. Eustaf was going mad.

Not knowing why the Duke had suddenly changed his attitude, Eustaf decided he couldn’t live like this and handed in his resignation.

“I can’t stand it anymore! I quit!”

But Julian tore the letter up in front of him, grinning slyly.

“Seems you’re rich? Do you even know how much investment was made in your name? If you can pay it all back, go ahead. You should’ve read that contract more carefully.”

But Eustaf was no stranger to madness himself.

“I knew you’d say that. Fine. Not two months—one month. I’ll raise devil’s claw within one month.”

“You should’ve said that from the start.”

“But!”

“But?”

Eustaf slammed a thick file onto the desk.

“A record of all the verbal abuse you’ve hurled at me.”

“What?”

Julian flipped through the pages in disbelief. Every insult he had spoken was neatly organized with dates and times, word for word.

It was a list that almost radiated mania.

“Pay special attention to the instances of collar-grabbing. There have been twenty. Twenty times!”

“So what, you expect me to kneel and apologize?”

“No! What use is an apology I can’t even turn into jam? Pay me for each offense.”

“What…?”

“Judging by your nature, you’ll never stop cursing. So if you must, at least pay for it. I’ll gladly take the abuse. Ten bronze coins per insult! One silver if you grab my collar!”

Julian stared at him like he was the real lunatic here.

But at Eustaf’s promise to deliver devil’s claw in one month, Julian scowled and reluctantly nodded.

Eustaf grinned wickedly.

“Wahaha! Soon I’ll be rolling in money! Quick, curse me, my Lord Duke!”

Since Julian accepted so easily, Eustaf happily began counting the fortune he would rake in.

But from that day on, Julian never insulted him again.

Instead, he came by more frequently and watched Eustaf’s every move with hawk-like eyes.

That was even more uncomfortable, and Eustaf grew irritated.

“So you’re just stingy about spending money, huh? But too bad, I’ve succeeded within a month, so you’ll still have to pay for all those past insults.”

Eustaf smiled brightly, already calculating his due payment.

“Devil’s claw is ready?”

As soon as he received word, Julian rushed over.

Eustaf triumphantly presented the potted devil’s claw.

Julian stared silently down at it for a moment, looking strangely heavy-hearted.

Wiping his face, he asked nervously:

“How is it administered?”

“You chew the fresh leaves raw. By the way, is that boy who visited my house the test subject? He looked frail—can he endure it…?”

“Stay out of her business.”

“Her? That boy was a girl? No wonder she looked delicate.”

At the mention of Rebecca, Julian instantly stiffened in discomfort—and even let a slip of the tongue.

Seizing the chance, Eustaf peppered him with gleeful questions.

“Then why was she dressed as a boy? She really did look like one at the time. Now that I think about it, your sudden urgency makes sense. Could it be…?”

“Could it be what?”

“A hidden lover? A tragic romance beyond class?”

“You’re not as clever as you think.”

“How dare you! If growing devil’s claw in a single month doesn’t prove my genius, I don’t know what does! The whole world knows—except you, apparently!”

“Shut up and take this.”

Julian tossed him a pouch of gold coins, as if to gag him with money.

Fortunately, it worked—Eustaf instantly began counting coins in delight.

“I keep my word. I added a bonus as a reward for your effort. And…”

“Yes, yes, I do deserve such a reward, so I’ll skip the thanks. And?”

“Sorry.”

“…What?”

Eustaf lifted his head, unsure if he’d heard right.

Meeting his baffled silver eyes, Julian frowned deeply.

“Forget you heard that. My temper is rotten, I can’t speak kindly. Especially when I’m worked up. From now on, I’ll try not to lash out. No promises, but if I do, I’ll compensate with money like today.”

Never before had Eustaf heard an aristocrat say “sorry.” He just stared blankly.

“Stop staring!”

Julian scratched the back of his head, cheeks tinged red—and for a moment, he even looked a little cute.

“Maybe he’s a kind lunatic after all…”

But Julian’s next words blew that thought away.

“Now, back to work.”

“What? Wasn’t devil’s claw the end of the project?”

“What nonsense. You’ve got plenty more to research. Next… yes, rose-grapes will do.”

“You mean the patented variety by the Earl of Devonshire?”

“Glad you catch on quickly. Yes, find a way to make those grapes sick. You have one week.”

Eustaf screamed.

“At least give me a break! I’m not a machine!”

Julian smirked.

“I said I’d pay you, not give you time to spend it. But I’ll hire more researchers to help you meet the deadline.”

“He’s a demon! That man is the devil!”

As Julian walked off with a sly smile, Eustaf trembled, imagining horns sprouting from his head.

Meanwhile, Rebecca was enjoying unprecedented popularity in the Duke’s mansion.

Everywhere she went, servants flocked to her with chatter.

“Lady Rebecca, here’s some freshly pressed apple juice. Please try it! By the way, my father is thinking of investing in a transport business—what do you think?”

“Lady Rebecca! My child just got into the Academy…”

Even hunting dogs hovered in the crowd. Seizing the chance while Zeppel was absent, they cautiously approached Rebecca.

It seemed the rumor of her prophetic power had spread among the staff.

Rebecca accepted the refreshments and gave only the most minimal answers, limited to the bits of future knowledge she truly had.

Just as she tried to catch her breath after the flurry of questions, she overheard whispering behind her.

“But why didn’t we know about Lady Rebecca’s ability until now?”

“They say being with the Count is her trial… so her power only manifests when he’s not around.”

They nodded gravely, apparently satisfied with the explanation.

It was true—Zeppel being away from her this long was rare.

Rebecca nearly burst out laughing.

Her power only manifesting in his absence?

Robert must have spiced up the rumor, and what a clever touch it was.

Thanks to that, she didn’t need to clarify anything herself.

Everyone was too busy spinning their own theories.

The problem would come if the rumor reached the temple.

Impersonating a saint was a grave offense—if investigators came, discovery was inevitable.

She might even face an inquisition for blasphemy.

“But why am I not worried at all?”

Though surprised at her own complacency, Rebecca felt no fear.

It felt as if everything would somehow work itself out.

“Did you forget? Fortune is on my side.”

Recalling Julian’s confident words, she smiled faintly.

“Strange… I’m actually trusting someone.”

Even if she were dragged away for blasphemy, there wouldn’t be no escape—Zeppel would surely come to reclaim what was his, and she’d get the chance to flee.

But in her heart, she hoped that if it came to that, it would be Julian who saved her instead.

Though it was late at night, Rebecca was still awake.

She sat properly at her desk, waiting for her visitor.

Since the rumor of her being a saint spread, she occasionally received secret visitors at night.

Kanna quietly prepared tea and set an extra cup on the table.

Rebecca sipped her tea and murmured,

“It’s about time.”

Knock, knock—

Almost before she finished speaking, a hesitant knock sounded at the door.