Deceived 92

Chapter 92

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A heavy silence settled over the table. Edmund said nothing, lowering his eyes as he mulled over those words.

That there was no love flowing through Liberte’s veins. Perhaps that was true. He found it amusing that he actually agreed with Isabelle, who for once was speaking nothing but the truth.

He had been unable to return anything to Blair when she confessed her love to him in Chiles. It felt as though all the order he had spent a lifetime building would crumble to pieces. He could not allow emotions—which he could neither control nor calculate—to bring him down. So, he had no choice but to respond by simply embracing her in silence.

Did he truly not regret that choice?

‘…I don’t know.’

A hollow laugh escaped him. When he recalled Blair turning her back on him in deep disappointment, it was clear who had betrayed whom.

Edmund had once resented his half-blood heritage. Because of his mixed lineage, he had always had to prove his worth, yet no matter how hard he tried, he was never accepted. Belonging nowhere, he could never even be called a “true Liberte.”

And it wasn’t until he ascended to the ducal throne that he truly realized it. He came to deeply understand that the name he had struggled so desperately to possess in his youth was, in fact, another form of a curse—that the true source of ugliness lay in the very blood of the Libertes.

If that were the case, would the repulsive remnants dwelling within him vanish once he shattered and burned it all to the ground?

In the end, there was only one path left.

“I will prove it to you.”

He had no choice but to prove it through destruction. After all, he wanted to tear it all down. That was why he seized the crown in the first place.

Isabelle, her face contorted, looked down at Edmund for a moment before turning away. As if belatedly gathering her shattered dignity, she left the parlor with an elegant gait, without looking back.

A deep chill filled the reception room, now left empty. Edmund sat motionless for a while, his gaze fixed downward.

Black tea spilled from the broken teacup, spreading across the wooden floor. The dark red liquid seeped into the cracks in the wood; after watching it stain and dry, he rose from his seat without a second thought.

It was time for him to return to his quarters.

***

The sound of footsteps echoed rhythmically down the long corridor. Those sure, steady steps, having just emerged from the bedroom, were heading without hesitation toward the Duke of Liberte’s office.

Blair remained on edge the entire way there. It had already been a week since the will was read and Edmund became the acting duke, and from that day until now, the two had not even exchanged a proper conversation.

That night they had bumped into each other in the garden, and since they shared the same bedroom, Blair had worried about how she should face him. However, unexpectedly, Edmund did not return to the bedroom. She thought he had kept his distance for a while to regain his composure.

The problem came the following night. Late in the evening, the bedroom door opened and he entered. Blair, already lying in bed, held her breath as the man’s shadow stretched long in the moonlight. Edmund approached the bedside and quietly lifted the covers. Lying down beside Blair, he reached out his arm without a word after a moment of silence.

In that moment, Blair felt as if her breath had been taken away. The warmth of the man she had so desperately longed for felt strangely unfamiliar and frightening.

Why was that? It must have been because she simply couldn’t figure him out. How could she know if he was approaching her out of comfort or desire, or simply to fulfill his will by producing an heir?

One thing was certain: if she accepted this relationship, she would be the only one left shattered.

So, instinctively, she pushed his approaching hand away.

Edmund withdrew silently without a word, and after that, he did not visit her bedroom. She could not tell if it was out of consideration for her discomfort or if he had simply given up.

Blair now felt as if she were walking a tightrope every time she faced him, but today she had to confront him, even if it meant steadying her own precarious heart.

When Blair finally reached the Duke’s office, she took a deep breath. Security was tight; two guards stood watch at the door. She spoke quietly to them.

“I’d like to see Edmund… my husband.”

“Please wait a moment.”

Nodding, the guard turned around and, without opening the door, announced sternly to the interior,

“Your Grace, the Duchess is here.”

The reply did not come immediately. Blair caught her breath as she waited for a response. What returned shortly afterward was not a low voice.

Squeak. As the massive door swung open, Edmund himself unexpectedly appeared. Unlike Blair, who flinched, he showed no sign of surprise.

“Let’s move to another room.”

With those few words, he began walking ahead. Blair followed instinctively and quietly retorted.

“You must be busy… We could just as easily talk in your office.”

“It’s the rule. Only the head of the household is allowed in the office.”

“But doesn’t the butler go in there?”

“He is considered an exception.”

Unable to think of anything else to say, Blair fell silent and followed. Edmund headed for the tea room at the end of the hallway. Unlike the bright tea room on the first floor that Blair frequented, this place had clearly not been used in a long time.

It seemed someone had been coming in periodically to clean, but the air was very chilly, and with the poor lighting, a stale chill permeated every corner. Overall, it was a very gloomy space.

Blair inhaled the musty air and tensed her shoulders. She felt like she was at a disadvantage from the very start. She hadn’t come here to clash with him—what was she supposed to do?

“Sit down.”

Edmund said casually, gesturing toward the tea table with his chin. Blair walked over and sat down without a word. The man, who had taken a seat across from her, leaned back in his chair and met her gaze. His eyes held a faint sneer.

“How touching. To think you would come to see me first.”

“……”

“What’s the matter?”

“I’d like to go to the capital to see Josephine.”

“Josephine.”

“The Countess of Gillingham.”

Edmund blinked slowly as he looked at Blair. Instead of answering, he rolled his tongue around his mouth and paused quietly. It was clear his mood had soured.

“As far as I recall, I haven’t received a telegram from her.”

“The Countess didn’t ask me to. I’m the one who wants to see her.”

The corner of Edmund’s mouth twisted.

“Is there a particular reason?”

“Do I need a reason to see a friend?”

“I heard that the Countess’s brother, that Brucken man, still hasn’t returned home. I was wondering if you knew anything about that.”

“…Marcel?”

At the unexpected news, Blair’s eyes widened. It was something she hadn’t known at all. But the man before her, for some reason, gave a cold smile.

“It took you a long time to even call me by my name, yet you’re so affectionate when addressing a foreigner you’ve met only once.”

“…Anyway, I’d like to go to Borsa and speak with Josephine. I didn’t get a chance to properly greet her at the funeral…”

“And if I don’t allow it?”

For a moment, Blair couldn’t believe her ears.

“You won’t allow it?”

“I can’t let my wife meet a man from Brucken whose fidelity is questionable.”

“What on earth…”

Fuming, Blair clenched her fists. She didn’t even know where to begin.

“Who cares who I meet? What business is it of yours?”

“Fulfill your wifely duties, Blair. That is the first clause of our contract.”

“We aren’t a real married couple. According to the terms of the contract, I only have to fulfill my ‘superficial’ duties.”

“Isn’t obeying your husband’s wishes also part of a wife’s superficial duties?”

Edmund tilted his chin slightly and added curtly.

“So please, fulfill your duties.”

“No. I’m going to see Josephine.”

Blair stubbornly met his gaze and bit her lip.

“You were right. Now that I’ve lived in Eldenvale, I understand. Even in a place this vast, it feels like an invisible hand is squeezing the life out of me. I want to escape this place, even if just for a moment.”

“Then that’s a breach of contract.”

“…What did you say?”

“May I take that to mean you want to get entangled with me in a sordid way?”