Estelle revealed the truth, prepared to face criticism.
'Even if it's true that who to give it to is Your Grace's choice, the fact remains that because of me, Lady Glesia lost her share.'
Estelle felt a burden of guilt over that matter.
Reading her memories through demonic energy, and making contact with her every day—all of it had been driven by guilt.
'They'll probably call me a hypocrite and curse me.'
Glesia lifted her head.
Her eyes were full of scorn…
"…So?"
"…Pardon?"
…They were not.
"That's all? That's your reason?"
"It's not just 'all.' Lady Glesia's very life was at stake."
"Even if you had given it to me, I wouldn't have accepted it."
Estelle knew it too.
That it wasn't something she ought to feel guilty about.
'From the start, Lady Glesia's illness was an incurable disease that not even mandrake could heal.'
"…But then, was it something else that made you sick?"
"I heard my whole body was failing to the point they said I didn't have much time left."
"What? A chronic disease?"
"I don't think so. But… I do have one suspicion."
Glesia had suffered from the same affliction Estelle once had.
It was—
"Before marrying His Grace, I tried to die."
"…!"
Depression.
"The moment I resolved to do it, I secretly went to the market without my family knowing and bought poison at a cheap price. It wasn't as difficult as I expected."
Estelle recalled the time when she was about to enter her fifth marriage.
"Living requires clinging on desperately, but dying… it felt so easy. I drank without the slightest hesitation."
"…So that's why you became ill?"
"Yes. It must be the aftereffects."
Glesia fidgeted restlessly, not knowing how to comfort her.
"But I'm fine now. I've recovered, and I'll never make the same choice again."
"Why?"
"Because I've come to value the things I'd be leaving behind."
She couldn't stand the thought of the people of Vellonsa living well, eating well, off the legacy she'd abandoned.
"And after meeting Duren—after becoming the center of my child's world—my own world changed, too."
Just as Estelle was Duren's world, Duren had become Estelle's.
"Hasn't it been the same for you, Lady Glesia?"
Glesia gave a small nod.
After meeting Duren and Estelle, every day had become something to look forward to.
'What Lady Glesia needs isn't some panacea.'
What she needed was simply… a reason to live.
A presence she could laugh and chatter with, without a second thought.
That was all.
"Come to think of it, you said you wanted me to divorce, didn't you?"
Nod.
"His Grace is away right now, so it's difficult for the moment. But when he returns, I'll bring it up."
"You will… divorce?"
"Of course. After all, it's what you wished for, Lady Glesia."
This marriage had always been destined to end.
Pretending not to notice Glesia turning pale with shock, Estelle spoke again.
"When I'm gone, please take good care of Duren."
"M–me?"
"Yes. Now that Duren has grown fond of you, I think I can trust him to your care."
It wasn't only guilt over having taken the mandrake—because of Duren, Estelle had to grow closer to her.
'I can't entrust Duren's upbringing entirely to His Grace. He never shared a single important word even with Lady Glesia, the one who at least felt some sense of family affection!'
He was a man cold to the point of cruelty.
So once she divorced him, Estelle needed someone else to look after Duren in his stead.
Fortunately, Duren liked Glesia. There could be no one more suitable.
"I'm really counting on you. Now, please get some rest."
"Th–that…"
"Yes?"
At the mention of divorce, Glesia's heart dropped heavily.
Yet she couldn't stop Estelle from escaping this place through that divorce.
"…Please. Divorce him."
"Yes, I will."
Run away.
There was nothing more to say.
'When on earth is His Grace coming back?'
Lying in a bed far too large for one person, Estelle pondered.
'It's a divorce that would've happened anyway, but saying it to Lady Glesia as if I were doing her a favor pricks at my conscience.'
She couldn't speak rashly, wondering if perhaps he had his own reasons for agreeing to a contractual marriage.
All she could do was wait for his return.
'Surely he's not still wandering around aimlessly, is he?'
The place Estelle had marked on the map was a true treasure trove, with holy relics and rare minerals.
She had even drawn it out herself to pinpoint the exact location—she only hoped he wouldn't come back empty-handed.
As she once again tried in vain to drift into sleep while waiting for Lennox's return—
Bang—
The door swung open.
Startled, Estelle shot upright.
'At this hour, who could it possibly be?'
Step.
Step.
A stench stung her nose.
A huge, black figure approached.
Seeing the sticky demonic energy dripping off that thing, Estelle's eyes widened in shock.
A… a monster?!
Bathed in moonlight, it was clearly a monster—its form inhuman, foul, grotesque.
Estelle, who had been about to grab her sealing rope, froze mid-motion.
It wasn't a monster.
"…Your Grace?"
Though there was no trace left of his once-handsome appearance, the moment she glimpsed those faintly glowing red eyes, she knew—it was Lennox.
"Your Grace."
Grrrk—
Only a beastlike groan, monstrous in sound, leaked out in reply.
Estelle had seen a similar sight before.
'On our wedding night, he was drenched in demonic energy.'
Though now, it was incomparably worse.
So much so that he no longer even looked human—he had become a monster in all but name.
"Your Grace… can you hear my voice?"
Estelle carefully tried speaking to him.
But only groans—"Grrrk, grrk"—escaped. Not even true replies, just meaningless sounds.
He staggered closer, clutching his head with his arm as if in pain, moving only toward the source of the sound—not because he recognized Estelle.
Their eyes met.
They were filled with murderous intent.
"He's completely lost himself."
Right now, he was no different from a monster.
Perhaps a shred of reason lingered—he reached out a hand as if to harm Estelle, but then used his other hand to restrain himself.
Even so, the threat was real, and Estelle was about to run when—
"Your Grace!"
He collapsed to his knees.
His labored, ragged breathing made it clear he was in terrible pain.
'It's the demonic energy, after all.'
Estelle approached Lennox.
"It's all right."
She stroked his cheek to wipe away the demonic energy.
The sticky miasma clung to her hand.
It was an unpleasant sensation.
"You'll be fine."
Like soothing a beast, Estelle repeatedly reassured him as she stroked his face, and the demonic energy cloaking him receded like an ebbing tide.
"Go back to where you belong."
The miasma pooled on the floor quivered, as if bowing in farewell.
Then, like liquid, it seeped through the cracks in the window frame, slid down the wall, and sank into the earth.
That was why, when Estelle had once killed her former husband with demonic energy, it could pass as a perfect crime.
'As long as there's earth, demonic energy can always hide itself.'
Once it peeled away, Lennox's ragged breathing slowly steadied, and his eyes drifted shut.
'He won't have seen what just happened.'
And even if he had, she could easily insist it was just a hallucination.
Estelle let out a sigh of relief—
Cough—
A spasm wracked her chest.
Blood spurted out with the cough.
She hurried to cover her mouth, but it was already too late.
Her blood had splattered not only across her own clothes but also onto Lennox's as well.
'Of all times… now…'
For the sake of keeping it a perfect crime, she needed to hurry and change her blouse.
Grrrk—
"It's nothing serious."
Though she knew he couldn't understand her, Estelle muttered anyway.
With the miasma stripped away, Lennox's face was laid bare, and she could finally read his expression.
His brows drooped like a worried puppy, his gaze brimming with concern.
Strangely, his emotions showed more clearly than usual.
Seeing him like this, she even thought he looked a little like Duren—
"Y–Your Grace!"
Lennox pulled Estelle into his arms.
Tightly, as if shielding her from something.
"If I asked you to let go…"
"…."
"…You wouldn't understand, would you?"
Hearing only a faint grrk in response, Estelle tried to free herself from his embrace.
But his strength was overwhelming; she couldn't move an inch.
In the end, trapped against him, Estelle rolled her eyes, unable to hide her awkwardness.
"Lord Helios, Roman is dead."
At the Central Temple—
Helios, carefully polishing an amulet necklace engraved with a star in relief, didn't so much as flinch at the news.
"It seems his cover was blown the moment he infiltrated."
"I never expected him to play the part of a proper spy anyway."
When Lennox firmly barred priests from entering, Helios sent Roman to learn about Winterren's internal affairs.
It had to be Roman, because no matter who was sent, discovery was inevitable.
"Then you mean to say you deliberately sent Roman to his death?"
"It was not a meaningless death. When a loach stirs up the mud, things that are normally hidden come into view."
"..."
"For example—truly demonic things."
"I don't know what it is you claim to have seen."
"Do you really believe that the Duke of Winterren, infamous for his hatred of mankind, could sincerely fall in love and marry someone?"
"…Ah."
"Exactly. His marriage is far more likely to have been a means to an end. And if so, then there should be no emotional exchange between husband and wife."
Like the political marriages nobles so often arranged.
[Estelle! I heard a loud noise—are you all right…]
Lennox's voice echoed through the solemn prayer chamber.
Click—
Helios pressed a button.
It was a miniature recording device, shaped like a button, that had been attached to Roman's clothing.
Even Roman himself probably hadn't known he'd been walking around with it.
"But it seems my assumption was entirely wrong."
He had loosed the loach in order to uncover Estelle's true feelings, yet instead he had gained wholly unexpected information.
For Helios, it was a most troublesome revelation.
Meanwhile, Lennox's head throbbed as if it would split apart.
It felt, for the first time in his life, like suffering from a hangover.
Forcing his senses to clear, his eyes suddenly widened.
"…?!"
Estelle was in his arms.
Covered in blood.
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