HDHWD 90🔐

Chapter 90 ….

If Benedict had answered, “Because we’re closest friends,” would this pain have been a little less?

She didn’t know.

Lucienne, unable to get her thoughts in order, asked quietly:

“So… you were going to announce your engagement?”

“…Yeah.”

He wasn’t even looking at her properly anymore.

“Announcing the engagement is the most effective way to deny all the nonsense in that article.”

The Duke of Winfield didn’t hold much political power, but he was still an officially recognized brother of the royal family.

Who would dare speak carelessly about the duke’s legitimate fiancée? The rumors would inevitably die down.

“But Benedict…”

Lucienne clenched her curled fist tightly.

“An engagement… that’s something completely different.”

“So you want me to just sit still when that nonsense is being thrown at you? I can’t do that.”

“It’s not nonsense.”

He momentarily lost his words—likely because he hadn’t expected that answer. But Lucienne continued firmly:

“I’m a traveling performer.”

And that wasn’t all.

“I’ve spent years hiding my origins in front of nobles, and yes—it’s also true that I’ve enjoyed a luxurious life thanks to your secret.”

“You never blackmailed me!”

“That’s not the point. Listen carefully.”

Lucienne looked straight at him.

“I’m not someone who belongs in your world, Benedict.”

“You—”

“So while rumors may be a big deal to you… I’m different. No matter what they say about me… it means nothing.”

Her words drew a clear line between them, using the convenient tool of status.

Lucienne knew she was being cruel—her own heart ached painfully just saying it.

But she couldn’t take it back.

Besides… it wasn’t exactly a lie.

“It means… nothing to you?”

Benedict’s voice trembled. He was hurt—he had to be.

You know I have no choice.

Lucienne bit her lip.

She could never allow Benedict to make an engagement announcement. She didn’t want to become a stain on his life. Nor did she wish to become the shameful footnote of the house that had offered her kindness.

Lifting her stiff chin, she added:

“Right. It means nothing. Now that you can’t keep playing the hero anymore, we have to come up with a different plan.”

“A different plan? What, are you planning to find some other young lady for me now?”

“If needed, yes. I can’t step forward myself, so with the butler I’ll review social standings and—”

“Are you serious?”

His heavy question struck through her words and instantly crushed her confidence.

Facing his intense gaze, Lucienne slowly lowered her head.

Was she truly serious?

…Of course I have to be.

She wanted Benedict to live well.

And not just survive. To be cursed and still never know the beauty of loving or cherishing someone—it was far too cruel.

Everyone deserved that kind of feeling.

“Lucienne.”

He knelt in the carriage, following her lowered gaze until he sat before her on one knee.

“…Lucienne, please?”

He gently held both her arms and looked up at her with a pleading expression.

Seeing those beautiful violet eyes filled with only her—how could she not have sweet, foolish thoughts?

Maybe, perhaps… Benedict…

No.

Lucienne forcefully shut down the novel-like fantasies pulling her in.

It was impossible.

Hadn’t Benedict just said everything was to keep up his “hero act”?

It was only that he disliked losing the shield that had protected him for so long.

Lucienne didn’t trust her voice, so instead she nodded slightly. Yes—she truly was ready to introduce him to another lady.

“…Ha.”

Benedict let his forehead drop softly against her knee.

“You… introducing someone else to me. That’s hilarious.”

He let out a dry, forced laugh.

“Benedict…”

She called him gently, worried. His grip tightened slightly around her arm.

Then Benedict lifted his head—with an expression she had never once seen before.

“Don’t joke with me.”

His voice came out rough and unfamiliar.

“We’re going to hold an engagement ceremony, Lucienne.”

“Don’t say ridiculous things!”

“Why is it ridiculous?!”

Her mouth opened and closed with many possible answers—but none felt certain enough to say aloud. In the end, silence was all she could offer.

Watching her lips tremble, Benedict asked quietly:

“Do you… dislike me?”

God. Absolutely not.

How could she ever dislike Benedict?

“I just… an engagement with you is…”

“So you don’t want to be engaged to me.”

“…”

“You’d rather be smeared with disgrace than be engaged to me.”

“That’s not what I meant—!”

Lucienne tried to explain quickly, but when she met his now-dimmed violet eyes, she froze.

Benedict slowly stood, defeated, and opened the carriage door.

Outside, Alphy stood waiting, worry written all over his face.

“Benedic—”

But just as Lucienne called him again, Benedict’s body collapsed forward as he stepped out of the carriage.

“Benedict!”

Lucienne screamed and rushed over, but too late—Alphy reacted faster and caught him.

“…Damn.”

Grimacing, Alphy motioned for the servants to fetch a doctor immediately. Benedict was burning with fever.

The mansion became hectic in an instant. Meanwhile Lucienne remained alone in the carriage, head bowed.

How had things ended up like this?

She couldn’t understand it.

Everything was a mess.

If only I could tear this damned body apart.

Waking after five days, that was Benedict’s first thought.

He had always known Lucienne saw him only as a friend.

But hearing it confirmed so clearly made him burn with fever?

It was embarrassing—frustrating, even.

“We retrieved as many copies of the newspapers as possible and had them print an apology.”

Alphy, who had been tending to him, wiped his forehead as he reported the most important update.

“For them, that’s hardly a loss.”

Retrieving newspapers didn’t erase the rumors already spread; they lost nothing.

And printed apologies in trashy tabloids were nothing new. No one would even read it.

“Lucienne?”

“She’s staying quietly in the mansion.”

“That’s… good.”

If she had returned to the troupe, it would have been like admitting the rumors were true.

Though Lucienne herself had practically admitted as much already.

“…She’s my special counselor.”

Benedict muttered irritably.

That position existed solely for Lucienne’s sake. Yet she insisted the troupe was her real home. It stung.

And more than that—how could she casually say she would introduce another woman to him?

Benedict had made his decision with such difficulty, only to crumble spectacularly.

And then she said she didn’t want to be engaged to him.

Then who does she plan to marry…? Not that it’s my business, is it?

No, it was his business!

He was her closest friend and also…

“If someone is going to devour my death for me… I hope it’s Benedict.”

They had entrusted their deaths to each other.

So he had the right to interfere in her life. Probably.

“I don’t know if it matters, but…”

Alphy spoke hesitantly, all traces of his usual playfulness gone.

“Viscount Sutcliffe has sent another invitation.”

“…What?”

“The viscount and his sister say they don’t care about the newspaper article concerning Miss Lucienne.”