Chapter 10
Because of that long-standing bad blood, Cecile still didn’t trust Duke Bartholomew’s goodwill.
‘Even if he’s kind to children, at his core, he’s a villain. He’ll do whatever it takes to reclaim what was taken from him.’
If Duke Bartholomew found out that she still had Nibelung…
He might actually try to cut open Cecile’s belly while she was still alive.
‘I can’t let Duke Bartholomew find out I have Nibelung. Never, ever.’
Thinking that, Cecile bit her small lips.
Using Duke Bartholomew came with tremendous risk.
And yet, it was the only option Cecile had in her hands.
In the end, Cecile had to take two different approaches toward Duke Bartholomew.
To secure a stable residence here, she had to grow closer to him—but at the same time, she had to be extremely careful not to let him find out about Nibelung.
‘That’s an absurdly difficult condition. Get closer to him, but be cautious at the same time?’
But there was no other way.
‘It’s fine. I can do this. Who am I? I’m Cecilia Lynn Obedien—the one who made even the mages of the Tower and the entire Roschen Principality kneel before me. The whole continent feared me!’
Even if she had lost to Duke Bartholomew in her past life, she was now twenty years in the past.
He wasn’t as formidable a villain yet, and she had the tremendous advantage of knowing the future.
‘So it’s okay. I have a fighting chance.’
With that thought, Cecile took a deep breath.
She was standing in front of a massive door—Duke Bartholomew’s office.
She had prepared extensively for this meeting.
‘The fact that Isaac, whom I recommended, has shown outstanding ability proves my competence too. There couldn’t be a better time to make my case.’
That morning, she’d asked the maids to dress her as adorably as possible.
When she asked them to make her look cute, the maids had been delighted. But they had no idea what Cecile had in mind when she made that request.
[Be strong, Cecile! But remember—you must never trust the Duke.]
Even Nibelung was cheering her on.
Cecile straightened her outfit once more, cleared her throat, and knocked on the door.
When permission was promptly granted, Cecile opened the door and stepped inside—and the sight before her was…
Duke Bartholomew, bathed in the noonday sunlight pouring through the windows, was looking directly at her.
He was alone in his office, tie loosened and the front of his vest undone—a relaxed look—but he was as lethally beautiful as a statue painstakingly carved by a sculptor blessed by the gods.
Even Cecile, who had lived as a dark sorceress for ten years and experienced many things, couldn’t help but momentarily hold her breath.
‘If I hadn’t been killed by him, I might have fallen for that face.’
She smirked inwardly.
“May I ask the reason for your visit?” Duke Bartholomew asked in a low voice.
“There’s hardly anything in the office that would interest a princess.”
Cecile folded her hands behind her back and smiled sweetly.
“I just wanted to greet you, Duke.”
“A greeting?”
“I realized I never properly thanked you for giving me a place to stay and buying me dresses.”
Though they lived under the same roof, the two hardly ever met.
The Duke was always busy with work, and they didn’t even dine together.
Since her arrival at the mansion, this was their first real conversation.
‘He’s the kind of cold-blooded man who never lets anyone get close. I need to approach him cautiously—but also charmingly, so he doesn’t feel repelled.’
Step by step, Cecile walked toward him.
“Thank you, always, Duke.”
Once she stood directly before him, Cecile lifted her skirt slightly and curtsied.
It was a flawless, proper bow tailored to suit the stern and composed Duke Bartholomew. But she didn’t forget to add a lovely eye smile.
Her lower eyelids puffed up adorably, and small dimples formed on her pale cheeks.
Her gaze, chin angle, expression, and tone—all of it had been carefully practiced. She knew how even a 1mm difference in expression could drastically change an impression.
This was the peak of all the effort the former dark sorceress had put into preparing for this moment.
To the average person, she would’ve looked irresistibly cute—enough to leave them stunned.
‘I don’t expect much from just this. This is only the first step. But if I can draw just a little bit of goodwill with it…’
Beneath the picturesque appearance was the desperate effort of a swan paddling beneath the surface.
Tension, anxiety, and anticipation—Cecile observed Duke Bartholomew’s reaction.
But…
“There’s no need to thank me. It’s only natural to protect a young princess.”
Surprisingly, Duke Bartholomew didn’t seem the least bit moved.
He merely responded in a dry yet polite tone.
His reaction was so plain that Cecile almost let out a hollow laugh.
‘Even if he’s that Duke Bartholomew, I didn’t think it’d be this ineffective.’
It was enough to wound her pride as a former dark sorceress.
‘Anyway, since Plan A has failed, it’s time to move to Plan B. I didn’t want to resort to this, but… I have no choice.’
Cecile drooped her shoulders and fidgeted with her hands.
“Um… Duke…”
“Yes.”
“Actually, I… I want to get closer to you.”
Looking up at him, Cecile let her brows droop.
Her large, violet eyes shimmered as if she might burst into tears at any moment.
“I really like you, Duke… because you’ve been so kind to me… and since we live in the same house, I thought it would be really nice if we could get along. Is that not possible?”
Until now, she had spoken fluently, like a mature adult, but now she deliberately switched to a childlike tone.
It was all a ploy to tug at the Duke’s weakness for children and evoke his sympathy.
“Your Highness…”
Seeing Cecile about to cry, Duke Bartholomew’s cold expression faltered.
He got down from his chair to meet her eye level.
“What should I do so that Your Highness doesn’t cry?”
‘As expected, appealing to his soft spot for children is the right move.’
Seeing his change in attitude, Cecile inwardly smiled in triumph.
Of course, she didn’t forget to keep looking pitiful on the outside.
“If it’s not too rude… I’m really sorry, but… could you hug me? Just once?”
When she tearfully made her request, the Duke froze for a moment, visibly flustered. After a few moments of hesitation…
“If I hug you, you won’t cry?”
He finally lifted Cecile and sat down in his chair, placing her on his lap.
He wrapped one arm around her—awkwardly, like someone who had never hugged anyone before.
But that was more than enough for Cecile.
His embrace was, shockingly, warm.
‘This is dangerous. I almost forgot this man is the one who killed me.’
She still couldn’t believe it.
That the arms of a cold-blooded man who hunted someone down for ten years just for stealing his artifact, and eventually killed them, could be this warm.
Cecile suddenly realized she’d rarely been hugged in her life.
Her biological parents had never once embraced her or shown her any affection.
For a long time, she thought that parents hugging their children only happened in fairy tales or with fairy godmothers.
‘I must’ve been really starved for this.’
She closed her eyes in the Duke’s embrace, reflecting.
‘To the point where I find comfort in the arms of the man who killed me.’
Duke Bartholomew let out a sigh as he held her.
“Your Highness.”
“Yes?”
Cecile looked up at him from within his arms. His gaze had softened considerably.
“I heard from Goldman that it was you who recommended Isaac for the position. Is that true?”
It seemed her tactic of having Isaac sing her praises to the Duke had worked.
Cecile, hiding her satisfaction, gave a modest and bashful smile.
“Yes. I got to know Isaac when I was still at the palace. I thought he’d be a good fit for the manor.”
By Cecile’s estimation, the mood was quite favorable. The Duke definitely felt some goodwill toward her.
There had been some bumps in the road, but in the end, everything had gone just as Cecile intended.
Duke Bartholomew gently held her by the shoulder so she wouldn’t slip off his lap.
“I see. Thanks to you, I gained a valuable asset. But, Your Highness—please don’t push yourself too hard.”
“Push myself…?”
“I mean trying too hard to prove your worth.”
