Chapter 29
“I was wrong, oh my god… How could I have…?”
He clung more tightly to Lucien, repeatedly murmuring apologies.
“Mmmph.”
A muffled groan came from beneath his shoulder as she struggled to speak.
Startled, Benedict quickly let her go, and she thumped her chest with a hand, seemingly having trouble breathing.
“S-sorry.”
He apologized quickly, bowing his head. But Lucien soon gave a small smile.
“No, I’m the one who should apologize.”
Benedict hesitated, unsure why she was suddenly apologizing.
But then he remembered—it must’ve been because of their argument in the study.
“Ah, no! I’m the one who should be sorry about that.”
Benedict cautiously lifted his head and apologized again for that incident.
“I’ll accept it. Even though I was mostly the one at fault.”
“You weren’t at fault at all.”
“You’re a duke. Of course you’d have secret documents. I shouldn’t have tried to look at them, that must’ve been uncomfortable for you, right?”
“Still, a gentleman shouldn’t treat a lady like that.”
“As your mother’s book would say?”
Lucien joked with a pout, and Benedict smiled faintly with her.
“Yeah, that’s right. But… aren’t you cold?”
Concerned about the chilly early morning air, Benedict moved to sit at the edge of the bed.
“A little.”
Understanding his intention right away, Lucien hesitated only slightly before slipping under the covers, whispering, “It’s warm.”
“But why were you sleeping here?”
“I was worried about you. You’ve been sick for three whole days.”
“Me?”
Benedict hadn’t realized that much time had passed.
“Yeah, so I snuck in without the adults knowing. Luckily, the butler was asleep, so I stayed here the whole time.”
“I must’ve made you worry.”
“Yeah, I was really worried. How’s your body now?”
“I’m totally fine…!” he started to say loudly, then quickly lowered his voice, remembering Alfie was asleep.
If Alfie woke up, Lucien would have to return to her room—and Benedict didn’t want to be left alone again.
Fortunately, Alfie didn’t stir. He wasn’t even snoring anymore.
“Hey, Lucien.”
“Yeah?”
“Actually, ever since we left the capital, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”
“What is it?”
“Well…”
Benedict revealed that his illness wasn’t a genetic condition but the result of a curse.
“A curse? Weren’t you scared when you heard that?”
Only after Lucien asked did Benedict realize that deep down, he had been afraid.
“A little. But not entirely. I mean, if it were a genetic illness, there’d be nothing I could do. But a curse… maybe there’s a way to break it, right?”
“You’re right! Okay, I’ll help you.”
“Even though you don’t know what it is?”
“I’m going to help you no matter what. So, how do we break the curse?”
“I don’t know yet. But…”
Just as he was about to mention the Crystal of Promise, Benedict hesitated. The dream he’d had earlier still lingered uneasily in his mind.
“They say I might learn more if I find something called the Crystal of Promise.”
“Crystal of Promise? Is that a gem of some kind?”
“I’m not sure.”
Benedict couldn’t bring himself to say, “I thought that crystal was you.”
“But I’ll find out what it is and track it down.”
“I’ll help too. I may not be much use, but I’m used to traveling around. Oh!”
Lucien suddenly clapped her hands as if an idea had struck her.
“What is it?”
“I figured it out.”
“What?”
“Well…”
Lucien faltered, a little less certain now.
“It’s about the Duke…”
Benedict asked casually, trying not to seem too serious.
“My father? What about him?”
“You know how I told you he once asked me to help you? What if he meant for me to find the Crystal of Promise, since I’m used to traveling?”
“Uh…”
Benedict found the idea surprisingly convincing. Because of his weak body, he had no experience traveling far.
Even the recent trip to the capital was his first time outside the duchy. But Lucien was different.
“When I think about it, it’s all kind of strange.”
Lucien had all the qualities he lacked.
“The more time I spend with you, the more I understand why your father brought you here.”
“No way. I’m just an ordinary wanderer.”
“You’re the most amazing wanderer I know.”
“Absolutely not. Besides, I…”
Lucien suddenly drooped her shoulders and looked downhearted.
“There’s something I haven’t told you.”
There was something she had been keeping to herself all this time.
It was about the day the former duke lost his life.
“What is it?”
“The day the Duke saved me.”
Benedict’s face stiffened. A painful memory had been touched.
“When I was in his arms, being carried out, I… saw someone.”
“What?!”
“I’m sorry.”
Lucien first apologized for not telling him something so important.
“The royal investigation team told me not to tell anyone. Not even you.”
They’d explained that if it was arson, they needed to keep the witness account secret to catch the culprit.
“So you didn’t really have a choice. But who did you see?”
Though he sounded hurt, Benedict didn’t push any further.
“I don’t know who it was. But I saw golden hair running through the bushes.”
“Golden hair?”
Lucien nodded.
“I can’t be sure. Maybe I saw it wrong.”
“But it looked golden to you, right?”
“There were huge flames everywhere, and it was dark. It’s hard to be certain of colors in that kind of situation.”
“Who said that?”
“One of the royal investigators. It made sense when he explained it.”
Benedict looked uncertain but slowly nodded.
“But why wasn’t that in the report?”
“You got the report?”
“Of course. Technically, I was the one who requested the investigation.”
“Maybe what I saw wasn’t considered relevant.”
“No way.”
Benedict immediately disagreed.
“Who in their right mind would be wandering in the forest at night?”
“Wanderers do. We travel by day and forage in nearby forests by night—for herbs and stuff.”
“…W-Wise of you!”
Benedict scratched his head, embarrassed at his assumption.
“So, what else did you tell the investigators?”
“Nothing much. Just that everyone I traveled with was kind, that I fell asleep before I could drink the milk someone gave me… and…”
She recalled everything carefully.
“That he said it was a good thing I was awake.”
“My father?”
“Yeah.”
That was strange. With a fire so intense, anyone would’ve woken up naturally.
“Does that mean… some didn’t wake up?”
“Maybe. Or maybe he just meant it was lucky we could leave quickly. It was urgent.”
“I don’t know… something feels off.”
Up until now, Benedict had always brushed off suspicions about the fire, afraid that Lucien might be blamed if it turned out to be a crime.
But after their conversation, he started to consider another possibility.
“My father’s knights never all sleep at the same time. They take turns watching over him.”
But all of them had died in the fire, reduced to ashes inside the mansion. Not one escaped.
“You’re right.”
Lucien recalled that someone had always stayed by the Duke’s side during the trip to the cabin.
“So the conclusion might be this: someone drugged them to sleep and then started the fire. Oh—didn’t you say you didn’t drink the milk? Who gave it to you?”
“One of the maids.”
“Hmm… Since my father hired her, there should be a resume on file. I’ll look into it. Maybe she colluded with the blond figure you saw.”
“But I could be wrong about the hair color.”
“Still, we can’t rule out the possibility that someone did it on purpose, right?”
“I don’t know if we can go against the royal conclusion… but your reasoning doesn’t sound completely wrong either.”
Lucien lowered her voice, as if committing treason.
“Alright. I’ll investigate further.”
“That’s important, but Benedict, we also have to find the Crystal of Promise.”
“Of course. I won’t lose to some stupid curse.”
“I’ll help you.”
Lucien let out a big yawn, and Benedict gently patted the pillow.
“Sleep. There’s still a long time until morning.”
“But I should go back to my room…”
“If you go into that cold hallway, you’ll be wide awake.”
Lucien was very sleepy, so she curled up and decided to rest—just for a moment.
“This is the first time I’ve shared a bed with anyone besides Jun. It’s warm.”
“Jun…?”
Come to think of it, hadn’t she said that name earlier when she woke up?
“……”
She had fallen asleep again before telling him more. Benedict muttered to himself.
“Wasn’t Jun the lady who taught her to sew?”
It felt odd to call an older woman by name.
“Well…”
He scratched his head, a little awkward.
“With Lucien, age probably doesn’t matter for making friends.”
“Of course she’s my friend,” he whispered, leaning back against the bed’s headboard and gazing down at her.
Her mouth slightly open as she slept peacefully, she looked so incredibly cute that Benedict soon forgot all about Jun and simply stared at her face.
