~Chapter 75~
Dane frowned.
“I never said she was here, nor do I see any need to introduce her to a stranger.”
He had no intention of bringing Camilla forward recklessly, especially since this person seemed… unusual.
“I haven’t seen her myself, but Lady Camilla has close ties with our family. Surely you know about her handling the matter with our second son?”
“Then wait until she comes to you.”
Dane turned coldly, but Kabul spoke in a low, surprisingly soft voice for someone so loud:
“Your Grace… would you kindly deliver this to Lady Camilla?”
He opened a wooden crate, revealing the contents: a herb, red with golden veins.
“Take care not to touch it directly. If it doesn’t reach her… I daresay the Grand Duke might be a little disappointed someday!”
His expression was all seriousness as he said this.
Dane glanced at Hans, then nodded.
“Take it.”
As Dane turned away, Kabul shouted behind him:
“I’ll wait here, so please deliver it quickly. Hehe.”
Hans clicked his tongue, and Dane understood perfectly why his father disliked this man. He was insufferably cheeky.
‘This is impossible.’
Once again, Dane had proposed to her.
This time, not as a fiancé—but as a bride.
Camilla felt her cheeks burn.
‘No… this isn’t the time for such thoughts.’
She tried to steady herself, weaving the herbs together, but her mind kept drifting back to Dane.
Finally, Camilla, herbs bundled, lit them with a flint by the wide-open window. The scent filled her nose.
‘Still… even if I try to recreate it, it smells a little different from the fragrance in the Grand Duchess’s room.’
It smelled like a standard sleep herb.
‘Then… one herb is missing.’
Which herb had vanished? It was familiar, but she couldn’t immediately place it. She needed to know its origin to make a proper diagnosis.
At that moment, a knock sounded.
“Camilla.”
It was Dane.
Camilla swallowed hard. He had promised her time, yet here he was. Gathering herself, she said:
“Yes… please come in.”
Dane stepped inside, and Camilla faced him, tense.
“Is something the matter?”
“Nothing serious… though your face seems flushed. Are you well?”
Dane lowered his head, placing a hand gently on her forehead. The sudden warmth made her flinch.
“Camilla?”
“Oh… no. I’m sorry.”
For a moment, memories of punishment at the baron’s hands flashed through her, but the gentle touch reassured her. Yet her face turned pale and her heart raced.
“Damn it.”
Sensing her reaction, Dane quickly withdrew his hand.
“Sorry. I was just checking your temperature. Next time I’ll… reach out differently.”
“No!”
Instinctively, Camilla grasped his hand.
“I… I didn’t mind.”
Dane smiled softly and leaned closer, resting his forehead against hers.
“From now on, I’ll take your temperature like this.”
The closeness made her eyes widen; the faint, refined scent of sandalwood filled her senses.
‘…?!’
“It doesn’t seem like you have a fever.”
Just as she blinked, overwhelmed by the proximity, a voice from behind startled her.
“…Your Grace.”
Camilla pushed Dane back instinctively. A young man stood at the door, holding a small wooden crate.
“Hans.”
Despite the icy glare, Hans introduced himself:
“Pleased to meet you, Lady Camilla. I am Hans Lionel, aide to the Grand Duke.”
Camilla, used to playing a bold, villainous witch in the past, found herself entirely at a loss before Dane.
“What is it that brings you here?”
“The head of the Everett family came today.”
Camilla’s eyes widened.
“He asked for you by name.”
Dane nodded toward Hans, who opened the crate. Inside lay the crimson herb, its scent unmistakable.
‘This is it!’
The final key ingredient from the sleep incense in the Grand Duchess’s room—and now she knew its source.
“Camilla?”
Dane’s gaze sharpened as she trembled, realizing…
‘Mother… this is the herb she gave me first.’
It was the herb that had grown before the collapsing cabin in her childhood.
“May I meet the person who brought this herb?”
Bang!
Furniture toppled from a fierce kick.
“What are you doing?!”
A lady sipped her tea, frowning slightly.
“What are you calling mischief? You’re the one causing chaos!”
A man leaned over the table threateningly.
“Amelia! This isn’t what we agreed upon!”
Ares, enraged, shouted. He had barely escaped alone from the knights Dane led and was now hiding with the Marquis Churello’s help.
“I killed the Marquis because of you!”
“And so you could meet the Empress Dowager.”
“She’s only talking about saving the Baron!”
Amelia, fanning herself lazily, whispered:
“If the Baron falls with all the arena’s crimes exposed, Glamis will be finished. That’s why you save him first and create a separate scapegoat.”
Ares was stunned.
“The Empress… wanted this?”
“Half yes, half because you bored her. You didn’t make it exciting enough.”
“You…!”
Amelia smiled faintly.
“You only killed Nina Mowin. Did you really think that would impress the Empress?”
“While saving him, finish the Baron off.”
Ares’ eyes widened.
“Then your position opens up, right?”
“…And if you could use Camilla Mowin as the scapegoat, it would be perfect.”
