Deceived 85

Chapter 85

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***

The will was to be read aloud in the old conference room at the end of the main hall's corridor.

Those present included the Duke's closest surviving relatives, senior servants such as the old steward, and legal representatives. Among them were two attorneys dispatched by the Kingdom's court, who had witnessed and notarized the will dictated by Duke Liberte during his lifetime, sealing it along with the documents.

Blair stared up at the man standing before her. A sudden curiosity arose. Once Edmund achieved his goal, the necessity for this marriage would vanish too. Would his attitude remain unchanged then? If it did change, how exactly would it change?

"Edmund."

Standing before the mirror, he ran a hand through the tie she had knotted for him, adjusting it before turning his head. Blair studied his face intently.

Edmund had held her until dawn again today. Swept up in carnal passion, he had buried himself within her again and again as she cried out. Even in the early morning, he woke her, barely conscious, and thrust his enormously swollen lust into her.

But unlike that time when he had penetrated her excessively, now there wasn't even a speck of emotional disturbance to be found in him. His face was completely free of all anxiety and tension. Blair could no longer be sure where to touch Edmund to get a reaction.

"Um... about the contract."

It was then that a crack appeared in that perfect face. His eyelashes slowly lowered and then rose, revealing eyes that held a cool light. Why?

"Contract?"

Edmund tilted his chin slightly and repeated the question.

"What contract?"

"The one we made."

He couldn't possibly have misunderstood, yet he simply remained silent. Blair, biting her lip in confusion, cautiously continued.

"You needed a wife to receive the title, didn't you? That's why we... became like this."

"......"

"Do you remember the first clause of the contract?"

"It was a clear clause. I remember it perfectly."

Edmund loosened his neatly knotted tie slightly as he added.

“For one year after marriage, fulfill the duties of a married couple on the surface, with mutual respect.”

That was it.

Although the Duke of Liberte was terminally ill, and their contract period was set for one year, they had never discussed what would happen to their 'relationship' if Edmund obtained the title within that time.

That uncertainty frightened her, and she wanted to know. Would he still need her after achieving his goal? If there hadn't been that written contract in the first place, would her existence have been unnecessary? What did she mean to him...? Blair wanted to ask. At the same time, she feared the answer she hoped for might not come.

The man who had been staring straight at her continued.

"But a year hasn't passed yet."

"Because you might inherit the dukedom today according to the will."

"Ah."

A faint smile touched Edmund's otherwise emotionless face. Unlike his lips, which curved into a gentle arc, his eyes remained dark and unmoving, showing no trace of laughter.

"So you were asking about the contract's termination."

"I..."

"If I achieve my purpose, there's no need to fulfill the term. But divorcing immediately is difficult. As you know, if I part ways with you right after gaining the title, it would raise suspicion."

Unlike her, whose voice trailed off and trembled, Edmund spoke with a smooth tone, as if there were no room for hesitation. His calm manner was like discussing a contract with a business partner.

“Therefore, it would be best to fulfill the contract period if possible.”

It was a clear answer, yet it contained nothing Blair sought to know. Things like feelings, emotion, trust. The very things Edmund had once called uncertain. The possibility that they could change at any moment was absent from his response.

“Does that answer your question?”

As always, Edmund asked as if he could see straight into her heart. It couldn't have been. Blair didn't know how to accept the feelings that had strayed so far from her original plan. She couldn't even make sense of them herself, so how could she convey them?

"When that time comes, will you let me go?"

The question came out almost impulsively. It felt like an emotion buried deep in her chest had suddenly burst forth, and she immediately regretted it. Something tangled with resentment and fear, mixed with the love she had quietly hidden away—it was a complete mess.

No, she hadn't hidden it. She had clearly confessed her love to him. She had told him it had to be him. A man as sharp as him couldn't possibly be unaware of this feeling.

"That's a strange question."

Only after a moment's silence did Edmund speak, his expression still impassive.

"I thought we were discussing the contract."

Her fingertips froze cold. In contrast, her cheeks burned fiercely. Under his questioning gaze, demanding an explanation, Blair felt like a clueless fool. How foolish.

"I... I..."

"Blair."

"......"

"This is going to take too long. Let's talk again tonight."

Edmund wrapped up the conversation and strode across the spacious bedroom. Blair couldn't easily tear her gaze away until he crossed the threshold.

It couldn't be helped. For a man who had to stand in his appointed place, there were priorities above her.

Her mind understood, yet her chest tightened at the sound of the bedroom door closing. Blair slumped into a chair and pressed her forehead against her hand. She couldn't lift her head for a long while.

***

The conference room where the will was read was located at the entrance to the corridor connecting the main building and the annex. All the way from the master bedroom to that room, Edmund was gripped by an inexplicable unease.

"You needed a wife to inherit the title, didn't you? That's why we... became like this."

Like this? He thought she phrased it rather slyly. Even a beast in heat wouldn't roll around and cling together as incessantly as they had lately. Why use such a roundabout expression?

"Do you remember the first clause of the contract?"

Blair brought up the agreement between them, one he had completely forgotten. That contract they’d reviewed together contained no clause demanding they sleep together. Edmund had even insisted, while persuading Blair, that they’d never share a bed.

Now that everything had crumbled, what use was that piece of paper? He disliked that she’d brought up ending the contract on the very day the will was revealed. Why did she insist on reminding him of the possibility of parting, something he'd forgotten while lost in sweet dreams?

Edmund came to a sudden halt at the conference room door. He knew it well. Blair wanted assurance. Assurance that she had his whole heart, some promise from his own lips.

In that moment of realization, Edmund understood the nature of the unease that had lingered since leaving the bedroom.

It was fear. The terror that the woman who whispered her love, who said she wanted him, that it had to be him, could leave. And the harsh realization that the only thing holding her back was a flimsy piece of paper.

Low murmurs seeped through the crack in the conference room door before him. Edmund stood still before it, catching his breath.

What good was any of this? In truth, his only purpose was to destroy everything his dead father and Isabelle had held dear.

The unfinished conversation weighed on his mind, making him want to return to Blair. But in the end, he reached out and pulled the cold metal doorknob.

The creak of the old hinges broke the silence of the conference room. As he stepped inside, those seated around the long table, waiting for Edmund, bowed their heads in respect. Except, of course, for Isabelle and Rufus.

Only after Edmund took his seat beside the head of the table did the reading of the will begin. Rufus, seated opposite him, looked decidedly tense.

"I will now break the seal on the will left by Duke Liberte, William Charles Liberte."

The lawyer acting as executor presented the wax-sealed document. Upon the dark red wax, the seal unique to the Duke of Liberte was clearly imprinted.

"The seal appears intact. I shall now open the will according to procedure and disclose the deceased's wishes."

The lawyer took out the notarized document and soon began reading its contents in a solemn voice.

" I, William Charles Liberte, hereinafter referred to as the Duke of Liberte, hereby bequeath all family property and titles to the designated heir upon my passing."

Everyone held their breath. The next sentence held the family's fate in its hands.

"The designated heir is limited to my second son, Edmund Roger Liberte, and his authority is restricted to serving as acting duke for one year. "

Rufus gaped in shock. As the room fell deathly silent, the reading continued unabated.

"The heir shall bear the duty to uphold the honor and order of the House of Liberte during this period. Should he produce an heir within that time, he shall formally inherit the ducal title. However, should the heir fail to produce an heir within the stipulated timeframe, the title and fiefdom of the House of Liberte shall revert to the Royal House of Genoa."

In that instant, the temperature in the conference room dropped noticeably. Someone gasped in shock; others couldn't lift their faces.

Edmund, who had listened without missing a single word, lowered his gaze. A bitter laugh escaped through his twisted lips. The old man obsessed with succession, even in death, was still being so petty.

An heir. An heir, he said. The face that flashed into his mind the moment he heard that condition was Blair's. How would she take this? This title was nothing but a tool he'd clutched to shatter everything. Would the woman, already so anxious, truly trust him now?

The silence didn't last long.

"This is absurd! It's invalid!"

Rufus leapt to his feet. His neck flushed crimson as he pointed an accusing finger at Edmund.