TMLWA 80

Chapter 80

“What nonsense is that? Prince Daniel is still alive! He is the late Empress’s son, the only legitimate heir.”

A woman who had lived her entire life enjoying everything as the daughter of a high-ranking noble had no sense of consideration for others.

Elizabeth Benton, who had only granted the dukedom out of necessity, believed even the adopted son Grey was firmly within her grasp.

“Mother, I won’t say it again. From now on, House Benton will serve Nathan Highman. I will make him Emperor.”

Sure, Prince Daniel might still become emperor. In his previous life, he had been a fairly good ruler.

But Grey turned away from Daniel the moment he heard that Anne had become Hannibal’s fiancée—because Daniel had aligned himself with the West.

“Grey, are you saying you dare defy my will?”

Even at the lady’s outraged voice, Grey remained composed.

He was planning to head to Teganess soon to gather evidence of collusion between Luto and the West.

If there wasn’t any, he would simply fabricate it. And he would bring Anne Ferro back.

“Your wishes no longer matter, former Duchess of Benton.”

Inside the drawing room, it was just Grey and Elizabeth Benton.

There were guards and a doorman outside, but they had already been bought off by Grey.

In other words, no matter what happened here, the duchess no longer had the power to stop it.

Grey stirred a powder into his teacup. Elizabeth’s eyes widened at the blatant act.

“What are you— Ugh!”

Grey suddenly stood and seized her by the throat, prying her mouth open.

The drugged tea spilled straight down her throat.

As the potion forcibly entered her system, the former duchess felt her tongue stiffen and her body tremble violently.

Watching her writhe in pain, Grey whispered sweetly into her ear.

“I killed your husband and son. They could’ve lived a few more years, but…”

“Y-You…!! That—!”

“You’re not feeling well, so it’s best you rest for a long time. Mother.”

Just how little must this woman have thought of him, to come meet him without a single guard?

Watching her collapse in rage and pain, Grey let out a sigh of pity before leaving the drawing room.

Immediately after, his men who had been waiting outside quietly stepped in.

“H-hrgggh…”

The beastly moan rang out, filled with anguish, but Grey walked away unfazed.

There was no one left who could stop him.

Leisurely, Grey strolled through the garden of the mansion.

It had been a long time since he returned to his family home, prompted by the news of the duke and young duke’s deaths.

Since the age of thirteen, Grey had dreamed only of this moment.

Becoming Duke Benton, and the woman who was supposed to sit by his side as the duchess—

Anne Ferro.

Suppressing the queasiness in his stomach, he pictured her final moments.

She was like a dying flame—frail and unstable—and in the end, she had given up on him entirely.

“When I’m able to stand again… I’ll give you a divorce.”

But foolishly, Grey hadn’t recognized her sincere love and had been deceived by the former duchess.

Having been scorned his entire life as a bastard, he had become momentarily intoxicated by the new world that opened to him upon becoming a duke.

He had lost his mind.

That was why he never realized how much the woman he loved was withering away and dying.

“They say she lures young male servants into her room while drunk. More than a few maids have seen it.”

The whisper meant to blind him had not described Anne—but Grey Benton himself.

“She’s the daughter of Marquis Tess. Go on, introduce yourself.”

Around that time, the former duchess had introduced him to a demure and composed young woman.

Her shy smile had reminded Grey of Anne as a child.

And so he fell into another love, too easily convinced it was real by the world’s approval.

After Anne suffered two miscarriages and eventually left, he tried to pour all his guilt into loving his new wife.

But in return, all he received was devastating betrayal.

“Ack—”

“Oh my! Darling—!”

It was when their newborn son had just begun to walk.

His wife, watching him collapse during dinner, smiled with delight.

Even as he fell, Grey stared at her in disbelief—at the smile on her face instead of worry.

From that day on, everything changed.

His tongue was paralyzed, rendering him nearly speechless. The nerves in his fingertips were dead—he couldn’t even write.

He had thought things couldn’t get any worse, but one day, his wife visited him again.

“Since your health is poor, why don’t you go recuperate at the western villa?”

“Ugh…”

“You’re worried about us? I know. Both Mother and I hope you recover soon.”

He shook his head in protest, but with the duchess’s approval, he was forced into a carriage and sent away.

Just before departure, the duchess brought their son into the carriage to show him.

Tears streamed down Grey’s face—not because of the deceit, but because it was still his child.

The pain of having to leave behind his young son was unbearable.

As he wept, the woman spoke quietly.

“Why cry like that? It’s not even your child.”

Shocked, Grey’s tears stopped instantly.

“The father of my child was always by my side. Not someone like you, who only came a few times a year out of obligation.”

She gestured toward the footman waiting outside the carriage and sneered.

“Did you think Mother didn’t know? She said even a low-ranking noble was better than the son of a whore from the brothel.”

The woman let out a small laugh and slammed the carriage door shut.

“Depart.”

The life Grey led in the West, exiled from the ducal household, was hell.

The servants were cruel—he was washed with cold water even in the dead of winter, and meals were irregular and sparse.

His slurred speech and shaky movements earned him ridicule—called a cripple to his face.

Even as a duke, no one treated him with respect. Everyone seemed to be waiting for him to just die.

Then one day, he stumbled upon a book a maid had thrown aside.

It was titled The Life of Verodi.

A witch. There was a witch in the West.

She could grant wishes in exchange for life—if one sincerely begged.

Grey clung to hope as he painstakingly read the witch’s memoir, where Verodi found salvation through love and lived happily ever after with her partner.

And one day, he left the villa at dawn, without a word, and began walking north.

“Witch— O witch— Please appear—!”

His words were slurred and barely intelligible, but he cried out with every ounce of sincerity he had.

He stumbled, collapsed, rose again—days passed like that—until the path became sand.

Endless desert. His throat dry, limbs unresponsive.

Still, Grey clung to his cane, calling and praying for the witch with each shaky step.

The moment he fell face-first into the sand, unable to cry anymore, waiting only for death—

Jingle, jingle… chime…

A clear, delicate sound echoed from somewhere.

“What is your wish?”

And then, the witch—Moira—appeared.

Grey made a pact with her and was instantly returned to his thirteen-year-old self.

He wanted to meet Anne again and start over.

He had no power yet to catch or possess her—but through long suffering and patience, he had finally become a duke.

Now, he had power and authority.

“Anne…”

With you by my side, everything will be perfect.

Anne Ferro—the woman who had once given him genuine and complete love.

Now, it was his turn to give that love to her.

* * *

“Master, are you really going to see my lady?”

Jamie asked with a cheerful smile, offering to pack his luggage.

Grey, in the middle of a meeting with his adjutant, answered without a hint of irritation.

“Yes. I won’t be gone long.”

He planned to return to the capital with Anne as soon as possible.

“Yes, sir!”

“There’s a carriage in Teganess too, right?”

He couldn’t let her struggle on her way back. The return trip would surely take longer than the journey there.

“With nobles living there, I’m sure they’ll have one.”

“Good.”

Grey nodded at Jamie’s reply. As the boy exited with a bright bounce in his step, Grey’s adjutant muttered with displeasure.

“You seem far too informal with your servant.”

“Still useful.”

Grey replied nonchalantly.

Once Jamie became the duchess’s brother, you won’t be able to treat him lightly either.

Hiding his true thoughts, Grey continued discussing the departure schedule for the West.

“Clayde has proposed a peace negotiation with Luto. If you go to Teganess, you might run into Luto’s delegation.”

“Perfect. All the more reason to go quickly.”

He needed to see Anne Ferro.

Her sudden departure to the West had been unexpected.

Maybe his rushed confession had startled her. Or maybe… there was another reason.

He needed to confirm, even if it was just a small doubt.

Could it be that you remember me from before, too?

If so, then I’ll say it clearly—this time, I’ll build the House of Benton for you.

So please forgive me.

And love me again.

As he traveled west, Grey thought only of Anne.

He vowed that on the return journey, he would never be alone again.