Chapter: 39
From the moment they said they were classmates, I figured there had to be something between them.
When his daughter’s name came up, Jacques quietly rolled his wheelchair closer to the door and pressed his ear toward it. The muffled conversation became clearer.
So does that mean Leclerc will become the Grand Duchess soon?
Are you crazy? She’s a commoner—how would that even be possible? He’ll marry some noblewoman. At best, she’ll end up as a mistress.
Well, you never know. The previous Grand Duchess was a commoner too…
At the vulgar speculation about his daughter, Jacques felt his head spin. He grabbed the armrest of his wheelchair, barely steadying his unsteady body.
He couldn’t believe it. His daughter—of all people—with the Grand Duke?
The voices outside seemed to drift farther away. He couldn’t stay still. Unable to restrain himself, Jacques flung the door open.
“What exactly do you mean by that?”
The two uniformed men turned around. Seeing Jacques, they whispered among themselves, asking who he was.
“I am Jeanne Leclerc’s father. Explain in detail what you were just talking about.”
Only after he identified himself did the two knights exchange uneasy glances. They looked guilty—hesitant.
Having once been a royal knight himself, Jacques immediately understood their reluctance.
“I know there are things you’re not allowed to discuss with outsiders. I only want to hear what you said about my daughter.”
After passing responsibility back and forth several times, the knight on the right frowned irritably.
“Well, it’s nothing much… Lord Leclerc and His Grace were hugging, and—well—they just looked very comfortable with each other. That’s all.”
“So you’re saying my daughter really is… in that kind of relationship with His Grace?”
“How would I know? If you’re curious, ask her yourself.”
He tossed the words out coldly and turned away. Jacques asked them to explain further, but they brushed him off, saying they knew nothing more, and walked away.
His fingertips turned icy.
His wife had died the moment Jeanne was born. She had worried endlessly about their child, and Jacques had promised her—sworn—that he would raise Jeanne well.
To raise her well meant to raise her to be honest and upright. He had taught her that her entire life. Jeanne had grown strong and steadfast, just like him.
That was why he believed she would never lie to him.
By the way, did the appointment ceremony go well?
Well… yes. It ended without problems.
So she had been deceiving him since then.
A chill spread through his entire body.
He was disappointed that she had lied—but even that, he could have overlooked if he tried hard enough.
But Jacques’s mind was already filled with Alexis’s presence and the vulgar words of the two knights. His firm belief that “there’s no way” began to waver dangerously.
Chasing wealth and power, turning her back on the royal family’s grace—when he thought of it that way, his insides boiled.
He should have heard Jeanne out. But his anger had reached his head, and he could no longer think rationally.
“Father.”
Not long after, Jeanne arrived.
The fact that his own daughter had come was shocking enough—but seeing her wearing the uniform of a Lorrain knight was like pouring oil on fire.
He was deeply disappointed in her. He raised his hand against her for the first time in his life—
“If I’d known you’d stoop to such filthy behavior, I would have rather—!”
He even hurled words he should never have said in anger.
His judgment had completely clouded over. But apologizing now, when he was supposed to be scolding her, felt like admitting defeat as a father.
So he chose silence.
“I won’t live foolishly like you, Father.”
All that remained was a tangled mess of emotions and a heavy, suffocating silence.
Should he have listened to Jeanne? But what if she really said she intended to become the Grand Duke’s mistress? Then how was he supposed to beg forgiveness from the prince?
Left alone, Jacques curled in on himself, clutching his head.
“This isn’t right.”
He repeated those words over and over, lowering his head.
Knock. Knock.
Two slow knocks sounded.
For a moment, he thought Jeanne had come back and jerked upright.
“May I come in for a moment?”
A stranger’s voice. Jacques’s raised eyebrows slowly lowered.
Who would speak so politely to a commoner—an outsider like him?
The thought crossed his mind briefly, but he didn’t feel like thinking deeply.
“Yes.”
Jacques answered curtly, lowering his gaze.
In truth, he wanted to be alone. But this was Lorrain. He wasn’t in a position to tell someone whether they could enter or not.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sir Jacques Leclerc.”
He was startled once by the refined, noble tone—and again by the title used to address him. It had been decades since anyone had called him a knight.
When he turned toward the door, he saw a tall man with a masculine face and an air of dignity. His attire was similar to the knights he’d just seen—only far more splendid.
Even without being told, Jacques knew exactly who he was.
“Claude de Lorrain.”
The man greeted him with perfect courtesy, as though meeting him at a social gathering. Jacques fidgeted, flustered.
“Y-Your Grace.”
“I was hoping we might speak for a moment. Do you have the time?”
“Yes… yes.”
His desire to be alone vanished without a trace.
Claude took a seat in one of the chairs in the center of the sitting room. Jacques rolled his wheelchair forward and sat across from him, an empty table between them.
“A guest has come, yet no tea was served. I apologize.”
“No, it’s fine. I declined it. More importantly—please speak comfortably.”
Claude was a grand lord, and Jacques a commoner. A grand lord showing deference to a commoner was beyond imagination.
But contrary to Jacques’s expectation that Claude would soon speak down to him, Claude simply hummed softly.
“I’m conflicted.”
“…Pardon?”
“I want to leave a good impression on you, but I worry that using honorific speech might make you uncomfortable instead.”
Leave a good impression—on me? A grand lord like him?
Jacques blinked slowly, unable to respond.
“You are Jeanne’s father.”
Claude said it with a gentle smile.
Whether it was his imagination or not, Jacques felt that Claude was trying to put him at ease. Gradually, his composure returned.
As his head cooled, his curiosity sharpened.
Just what did you say to my daughter?
If you used your status to sway her…
The thought made Claude seem far less agreeable.
“I happened to overhear some of what was said outside. That wasn’t Jeanne’s true intention.”
“You speak as though you know my daughter very well.”
“Not better than you do.”
“Since when have I been Your Grace’s ‘father’?”
“…Does that offend you?”
“I simply find it more comfortable to maintain formality.”
Reason told him to remain polite, but his true feelings—wanting to demand what on earth he’d said to his daughter—clashed violently inside Jacques.
Noticing the sharp edge in Jacques’s mood, Claude rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.
“When we were at the academy, Jeanne told me about you—about her father, no, Sir Leclerc. She said you were strict, but always just. That she respected you.”
“……”
“So what she said earlier was likely spoken in the heat of the moment.”
Claude emphasized the last words, as if trying to resolve a misunderstanding between father and daughter.
It wasn’t pleasant knowing that someone had witnessed such an embarrassing family scene.
And yet—contradictorily—the person who told him exactly what he wanted to hear was Claude.
Just as he had hurt Jeanne without meaning to, perhaps Jeanne’s words hadn’t come from her true heart either.
He wanted someone—anyone—to say that.
Feeling wary of Claude only minutes ago now seemed foolish. He even found himself thinking, Jeanne really did make a good friend.
Still, as long as she remained here, his daughter would bear an even heavier stain on her name.
“Your Grace.”
Jacques bowed his head deeply.
“Thank you for thinking kindly of my daughter. However, we owe our loyalty to Brienne. To turn our backs on the royal family like this would betray the duty of a knight.”
“……”
“If you truly consider my daughter a friend, then please dismiss her from the Order of Lorrain.”
He waited for Claude’s answer, head still bowed. The silence was not long.
“Do you know what Jeanne did the very first day she arrived?”
The question seemed unrelated to his request.
“…No.”
“She saved me from an assassin. Not long ago, she also protected the people of the territory from a monster.”
Claude went on to explain the assassination attempt and the Megalodon incident in detail, then added gently:
That without Jeanne, he might already be dead. That she fought more bravely and magnificently than anyone. That many knights of Lorrain wished to follow in her footsteps.
As Jacques listened, memories of the words he had drilled into Jeanne surfaced.
A knight must place their lord’s life above their own.
A knight must stand at the front and face the enemy.
A knight must be a role model to others.
She’d said she didn’t want to live like him—yet Jeanne had followed his teachings more faithfully than anyone.
And that made it even harder to understand.
If she knew all that, why had she turned her back on Brienne?
At some point, Jacques found himself listening intently to Claude’s story. Jeanne, who took after him in her bluntness, had never really spoken about herself before.
And just when she said she wanted to be honest for once—
“From the academy until now, Jeanne has been the finest knight I have ever known. And someone like her…”
Claude trailed off mid-sentence. He fell silent for a long moment, then spoke again, his voice trembling and subdued.
“I love her. Very deeply.”
