LUW 57

Chapter 57

Leo quietly glanced at Cecilia, who sat across from him. Ever since they had boarded the carriage, she hadn’t changed her position, her expression solemn and heavy. He was worried.

Through Olga Schiffer, Leo had learned that an assassin had infiltrated the Cardinande estate.

Given Pierre’s high rank and the many enemies he’d made while serving the emperor like a hound, it wasn’t surprising that an assassin would target him. It had happened before. There were several instances where Pierre had caught would-be assassins, and after his swordsmanship gained widespread fame, such attempts had dwindled. But this time, it seemed he’d been caught off guard.

No one knew the extent of his injuries, but if they were serious enough to stir rumors, Leo feared something might be permanently damaged.

When Leo first heard the news, he felt regret. Somehow, Pierre had a way of making every injury dramatic. Cecilia, who had just begun to find peace, was once again deeply shaken. She had insisted on going to the Grand Duke’s residence immediately, and Leo had accompanied her out of concern.

‘Even so, will they even allow an unannounced visit?’

Leo couldn’t help but worry about the practical matters. He had no idea how to comfort the pale, shaken Cecilia, and so he, too, couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes as the carriage rolled on—until they finally reached the Grand Duke’s estate.

“Stop right there.”

A guard halted their carriage. The coachman from House Niberius explained that they had come from Niberius and that the young lady was deeply concerned for the Grand Duke’s well-being. But the guard shook his head.

They couldn’t hear every word, but it was clear they weren’t being welcomed.

‘See? I knew this would happen.’

Leo crossed his arms and observed. Pierre had dragged Cecilia to his mansion on a whim and then left her behind at House Niberius without a word. That was just how nobles were.

Leo had always thought such a world didn’t suit Cecilia—and perhaps this incident would help her return to where she belonged. Though he worried about her heartache, there was nothing he could do. Maybe this would finally help her move on from Cardinande.

If so, Leo would do what he always did: comfort her in his own way once they returned.

Just as he opened his mouth to suggest they give up and go home, he caught sight of Cecilia’s face through the window—and fell silent.

She wore a dignified, noble expression that radiated a hidden inner strength. It was an expression Leo had never seen on her before, and it froze him in place.

Then, Cecilia opened the carriage door and stepped out—without an escort.

Approaching the guard and the coachman mid-argument, she raised her voice.

“Tell them Cecilia Niberius is here.”

Startled, the guard turned to look. He seemed to recognize her—Cecilia had once stayed here for a while. But bound by duty, the guard’s face showed reluctance as he responded.

“…We’re currently on high alert. I’m afraid it’s not possible.”

Even faced with a heavily armed guard, Cecilia remained composed and resolute.

“We may have only had a past connection, but I was once known publicly as the Grand Duke’s partner. Isn’t it rather discourteous to turn someone like me away on a day like this?”

“…Well…”

“If the Grand Duke finds out that you didn’t even deliver word of my arrival, I imagine he’ll be quite disappointed.”

Though she was bluffing, Cecilia’s firm tone put the guard on edge. Even Leo, who had stepped out of the carriage behind her, was stunned into silence.

Then, the door behind the guard opened, and a calm voice broke in.

“The young lady of House Niberius has arrived.”

It was Pierre’s head steward, likely drawn by the commotion. The guard saluted, and Cecilia gave a polite curtsy in return. She had run into the steward a few times while staying at the estate. Since everything in the household went through him, if she couldn’t convince him, they would truly have to go back.

Swallowing dryly, Cecilia looked him in the eyes. But the steward only gave a gentle smile and said,

“It’s cold out. Please, come inside.”

* * *

Cecilia headed straight toward Pierre’s bedroom. Normally she would have waited to be shown in, but she simply couldn’t sit still.

Even she didn’t know where she found the nerve to speak to the guard that way or to follow the steward inside. Her only thought had been that she needed to see Pierre—now.

As she turned into the corridor leading to his room, the bedroom door opened, and a familiar face stepped out: Pierre’s aide, Honik.

Honik’s eyes widened when he saw her.

“My lady? What are you doing here? Weren’t you waiting in the parlor?”

Clearly, he had been told she had arrived. Did that mean Pierre knew she was here too?

And if so, had he not called for her because his injuries were that serious? Or… was it because he didn’t want to see her?

Cecilia shook her head, trying to clear her spiraling thoughts, and spoke.

“When I heard the Grand Duke had been injured, I couldn’t stay away. I know I shouldn’t have come uninvited, but… is it serious?”

Her voice trembled slightly. Honik’s expression subtly shifted. He glanced between her and the room behind him before replying, a little hesitantly.

“Well… it’s hard to explain.”

“…”

“Would you like to see for yourself?”

“…Can I?”

Cecilia’s eyes widened at the unexpected offer.

“Of course, but… you’ll have to go in alone.”

He glanced at Leo standing closely behind her. Cecilia turned back. Leo was eyeing Honik with disapproval.

“Leo. Don’t worry. I’ll just be right inside.”

At her reassurance, Leo reluctantly nodded and stayed put. Honik then opened the door and led her in.

The room was completely dark, the curtains tightly drawn. No light entered. Cecilia followed Honik, who carried a candle, as they walked toward the bed.

There was no sound—no sign of movement. It was unnerving. Cecilia had never seen Pierre like this before. Her mouth went dry.

Finally, when they reached the bedside, she could see him.

Pierre was lying in bed, his body wrapped in bandages. They covered his neck, his hands, and visible skin beneath his clothes. Even his eyes were shut tightly, his face pale.

Cecilia felt her heart plummet.

“You… you didn’t say it was this bad.”

Her voice shook, on the verge of crumbling to the floor. Honik murmured quietly beside her.

“…Exactly.”

“What?”

“….”

Cecilia barely registered his words. Her trembling hand reached for the bed.

Pierre’s pale face, his tightly closed eyes, his lifeless lips—none of it felt real. Her heart pounded.

Instinctively, she leaned closer to his face.

His breathing was so faint it was barely audible—like a candle about to flicker out. Panic suddenly seized her.

If Pierre were to die like this… she would regret it forever. All the times she’d waited for him to come to her. All the times she’d failed to be honest about her feelings.

That thought hit her like a wave, and her lips moved on their own.

“You can’t die…”

Her eyes brimmed with tears.

“I still haven’t said everything I wanted to say. And I haven’t told you any of it yet.”

“….”

Tears welled up until they threatened to spill. Her vision blurred, and she wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

“If you leave like this, I really… I really…”

Her voice cracked, the rest caught in her throat—when suddenly, she heard a familiar voice above her.

“Why stop talking in the middle of a sentence?”

Startled, Cecilia jerked her head up.

There, smiling down at her as if nothing had happened, was Pierre.

“Pierre…!”