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If she hadn’t spent more leisure time with Lucius, she might’ve had breakfast with him as he asked. But Lucius’ mischief ate up Deatrice’s time longer than she would’ve liked. She had to move as quickly as possible, saving her meal for later just so he could prepare for Wilton’s arrival.
“Count Wilton.”
Lucius and an elderly gentleman walked between the knights in formation. Deatrice curtsied as she greeted Count Wilton whom she had looked up to since childhood.
“Ah, Deatrice.”
Wilton, who soon saw her, smiled and motioned for her to get up.
“There’s no need for you to greet me so formally.” He assessed her from head to toe and gave a toothy smile, “It’s the first we’ve seen each other since the wedding and your face is blooming. I’m glad you’re doing well. It seems that Sir Elliot is good towards you.”
As a matter of fact, Wilton’s compliment of ‘your face is blooming’ to her had never once changed since the day he saw her. By now, it’s almost like a tradition of some sort.
The uncanny part of this little quirk of his was that he compliments a person that they’re blooming—even if they’re lying on a coffin.
Despite knowing all that, Deatrice put on a smile because of the mention of Lucius.
“So, this is the manor.”
Wilton Hu looked around the house and said, “When Princess Effy was fighting her disease, she recuperated briefly in this location. She was particularly fond of the garden, and when she tended to it, it became more beautiful than she had ever seen. The manor met a caring owner and thus came to life.”
Princess Effy was one of the emperor’s sisters. Her body had always been weak since an early age, yet she still continued to fight against her disease.
Unfortunately, time was cruel. She did not reach adulthood and passed away in her sleep. But perhaps because of this, she was one of the emperor’s most cherished members of the royal family.
The room where the princess stayed was still preserved in the imperial palace and her portrait was also introduced to the new descendants of the imperial family.
Deatrice also remembered seeing the portrait. The princess was smiling so beautifully and was surrounded by colorful clothes and glittering jewels. She couldn’t see the traces of her battle against her disease.
She couldn’t believe the manor that the princess lived in was where she lived now. Perhaps the exact location where she stayed was the room she was currently occupying with Lucius.
After all, the emperor who made the manor ensured that the princess lived the same way she lived in the imperial palace until the day she died.
How could Deatrice not be surprised? She initially thought the emperor gave this manor to Lucius purely because he favored the knight. But a place where someone died…
Did he have some ill intent by choosing this manor and then give it to Lucius on the guise of a reward?
***
Wilton has been unable to do what he was supposed to do during an official visit due to his knees’ deteriorating integrity. Hence, they stayed in the guest room an hour earlier than scheduled and talked about the situation of monsters making a reappearance.
Wilton uttered as he pressed his hand on a sore knee, “Hmm. Maybe someone is trying to find a dungeon that has been sealed before.”
Lucius agreed with his statement and gave some information as well.
“Yes, I have even confirmed it too. A sealing formula has been broken.”
“But a sealing formula isn’t that easy to break, is it?” Deatrice asked, holding a teacup to her lips.
Wilton answered, rubbing his temples in a troublesome way.
“It’s not that difficult if there are about…” he pondered, “four skilled wizards. As far as rumors go, they say it is possible to use magic every day after being locked in a dungeon, but only for about four months. But as you know, magic is an unknown realm to us. In the meantime, someone might have discovered something powerful that could easily break a seal.”
“The newspapers were talking about doing something like that in Alhen.”
“The Emperor is, well, suspicious of that sort of thing…” Wilton seemed to have a different opinion, but it was evident that he was using his words sparingly because he was in front of the emperor’s faithful knight—Lucius.
Lucius also noticed his hesitance. Eventually, the topic was steered into how the knights are trained and the tactics used to defeat different types of monsters.
It was clear that Lucius invited Wilton to satisfy his personal desires, but the older gentleman’s enthusiasm in conversation was very impressive despite his ailments. At dinner time, Wilton started asking questions again as if he wanted to know everything about this place.
He inquired about how the cooperation of the temple should be led and how the siege of dungeons and monsters was carried out. Then he followed up with the words, “Deatrice helped a lot on the temple. She went to the temple a lot more than I did here.”
Red eyes with an enigmatic gaze stared at her. One that seems to say:
Yes, I know you were there.
That was the kind of gaze Deatrice had always seen from people who came to dinner with her father when she was young. She gave him a side-glance, but Lucius simply continued his meal with a casual attitude.
“…on that note. I didn’t think that you and Deatrice would eventually get married.” Wilton said, as everyone here already knew what happened six years ago.
Lucius answered with a sip of wine, “Well, who could’ve known?”
The count burst into laughter.
“Really? What about the rumors that say you’re the one who stole her away.” he responded with a slight slur to his words.
“Count Wil…”
Deatrice, who was very uncomfortable with the subject, tried to change the topic of the conversation by calling his name. But Lucius answered with a modest attitude, like there was nothing to hide.
“They are just that—rumors. At the time, I really didn’t know what was happening. But given the circumstances now, I think of it as having been rewarded by the heavens. Because I’ve had no one in my heart but her for the longest time…”
“…”
A brief silence passed, and their eyes met.
He spoke as if he hadn’t just made any great confessions, as if these kinds of conversations happened frequently between them. There was no tension in the way he looked at her and his movements were as natural as water flowing down the stream.
Deatrice didn’t feel anything immediately, but as time went on, the meaning of his words slowly sank into her head. With her every realization came a different, conflicted expression.
It didn’t make sense.