LUW 56

Chapter 56

In the dark hours before dawn, Pierre returned to the mansion.

Even though he had been drinking, not a trace of intoxication clouded his mind—on the contrary, he was exceptionally clearheaded. Pierre had attended the Emperor’s invitation with the sole purpose of gauging his true intentions.

Kargo Niberius’s words had been haunting his mind, impossible to shake off. Pierre had deemed it necessary to confirm the truth, at least once.

It was an old affair, and knowing the Emperor’s nature, anyone involved would have long been disposed of. There shouldn’t have been any way to confirm it. Yet ironically, the culprit himself had practically confessed.

“The decision… yes, to sink… the ship…”

Now that the culprit of the monstrous weapon incidents had been apprehended and the war with the bothersome Hakan tribe loomed on the horizon, the Emperor probably believed everything was proceeding smoothly.

That smug complacency had made the long-silenced lips speak. Unfortunately for him, he did it right in front of Pierre.

Feeling as if something were tightening around his neck, Pierre loosened his collar and walked toward his desk.

Suddenly, he noticed a paper envelope placed on top.

‘Ah, right. Just before the meeting, I heard that the appraisal of Zilkirk’s weapon blueprint had arrived through Honik.’

Without a word, Pierre pulled out a paper knife and slit the seal. The appraisal report slid onto the desk with a soft thud. At the bottom of the long document, a clearly written sentence caught his eye:

“For the reasons stated above, the blueprint appears to be a hastily forged ‘fake’ and not created during the claimed time period.”

Of course.

A faint smirk curved Pierre’s lips. Like his empty eyes, it was a smile devoid of emotion.

It was as if everything had returned to square one. The true culprit had to be Baldir Richmond, who had coerced Zilkirk—the supplier—into silence and pinned the crime on him. But the evidence Zilkirk had handed him was a forgery, and Richmond had already gotten close enough to the Emperor to become one of his most trusted men.

There was nothing Pierre could do now—and no reason to do anything either.

“Then what have I been living for all this time?”

He muttered in a faint voice, but there was no one to answer.

Pierre leaned back in his chair, slumping to the side.

The first emotion he felt after learning the full truth was not rage but emptiness. On the surface, the man was the murderer of his parents.

He should have been burning with a thirst for vengeance. But perhaps because he had learned nothing from his parents, he felt no such filial fury.

It had been twenty years. His parents’ faces were vague, blurred with time. He’d spent longer wielding a sword and being raised as the Emperor’s hound.

Yet even so, doing nothing left a gaping hole in his chest that refused to close.

His body felt drained. The confusion and emptiness devoured any fury and left him helpless. He felt as though he were sinking into the weight of his own body. His eyes slowly shut.

When was the last time I laughed?
When was the last time I was truly happy?

As far as he could remember, such moments probably never existed. It seemed it might be better if he simply never opened his eyes again. But just then, a familiar image flickered in the darkness behind his closed lids.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw a plate on the table. It was brioche—a snack Honik had left for him earlier.

He remembered clearly—Cecilia used to eat it often when she stayed at the Grand Duke’s residence.

She made even such simple food look delicious, and watching her made him want to sit down and share a meal with her.

That was just who she was. Easily moved, quick to admire, quick to love even the smallest things.

Living with her made the world feel more vibrant, made ordinary things seem special.

Cecilia was so different from him. She shone brightly. And because of that, he thought she belonged beside the people she loved and who could keep her safe.

That’s why he had so resolutely let her go. But ironically, now, he missed her more than ever.

He had prided himself on wanting nothing his entire life. But now, he wanted her—Cecilia—desperately. So much so that he wished he could return to the moment he let her go and grab her hand again.

As thoughts of Cecilia filled his mind, Pierre felt a spark of desire light again in the ashes of his dying heart.

After several encounters, Cecilia had returned to the Niberius household. Even after her return, she kept hearing whispers about candidates for the Grand Duchess, which made her ears perk up and her heart sink.

Still, there was nothing she could do to change anything.

The more she stayed idle, the more her imagination went wild—she kept picturing Pierre walking hand-in-hand with the Grand Duchess-to-be, dating sweetly. She would kick her blanket in frustration at night.

Honestly, she wanted to storm into the Grand Duke’s castle and scream, “If this was your plan, you shouldn’t have treated me so kindly!”

But she couldn’t throw a tantrum and embarrass her family.

So Cecilia chose a more primal form of therapy—hunting.

Whisssh—!
“Miss, bullseye!”
“As expected of our young lady. Even after a long break, your skills haven’t dulled a bit.”
“…”

Hunting was the perfect way to clear her mind. She climbed the mountains with her uncles, but the atmosphere was… strange.

Normally, they would have insisted she sit out and act more like a noble lady, nagging her to death. But this time, they said nothing.

Cecilia narrowed her eyes and glared at the uncles who picked up the bird she had shot. The sharpness of her gaze made them cough awkwardly and look away.

“It’s nice and plump. Looks like it’ll be delicious.”
“Of course. Our lady caught it, after all.”
“What’s wrong with you two?”

She asked with a pout. Her uncles averted their eyes in unison. Cecilia crossed her arms and sighed.

“Ugh. Now even you guys are treating me coldly. It’s enough to make me cry. I should just go to my room and cry it out.”

Even though her tone was overly dramatic and theatrical, her uncles flinched. They had always been weak to Cecilia’s tears since she was little.

“M-Miss, it’s not like that. We’d never push you away.”
“Then what is it? You’ve been acting so strange since earlier.”

The two exchanged glances and scratched their heads sheepishly.

“It’s just… you’ve seemed down lately. But it’s good to see you looking lively again.”
“…”

“We were happy to go hunting with you again. Brought back memories. Honestly, we regret not just praising you wholeheartedly back then.”

Hearing their sincere words, Cecilia’s cheeks flushed.

“W-What’s with that all of a sudden…”
“Miss, if there’s something you want to do—don’t hesitate. Just do it.”

One uncle spoke with a truly concerned expression.

“Sitting around hesitating and sulking doesn’t suit you. Your charm is being honest.”
“Ugh, stop it already.”

Embarrassed, Cecilia responded with mock annoyance. But as they descended the mountain, she felt both grateful and guilty seeing how warmly her uncles treated her.

“Yeah, moping around won’t change anything. If that guy Pierre wants to do whatever he pleases, then so can I. I’ll live so well that word of it will reach his ears whether he wants it to or not.”

With her resolve firm, Cecilia headed toward her father’s office.

She had planned to make him a hearty tonic soup with the bird she caught. But just as she approached the slightly ajar door, voices spilled out.

It was Uncle Olga’s voice. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but the secretive tone made her pause.

“If Miss Cecilia finds out, she’ll be heartbroken.”

“Yes. Just the talk of engagement made her gloomy. I won’t let that brat cause her any more suffering.”

Cecilia’s brows furrowed.

“That brat? I’ll be heartbroken?”

Only one person came to mind: Pierre Cardinand.

“But why are Uncle and Father talking about him now?”

Even though she reminded herself it was wrong to eavesdrop, she found herself unable to walk away as the conversation continued.

“It’s unfortunate that happened, but let’s keep it between us. Be especially careful not to let Cecilia find out. As for the Grand Duke’s family, we’ll send a letter…”

SLAM!

The office door burst open.

Startled, her father and Uncle Olga turned sharply toward the noise—and saw Cecilia standing there with a fierce expression.

“What was that just now?”