Duke, This Will Sting for a Moment (30 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 16

“I’m curious. Truly curious.”

Justin plucked a rose petal red as blood, placed it in his mouth, and crunched it softly before swallowing.

Captain Aaron, still prostrated on the floor, glanced up furtively at the Emperor—his eyes trembled slightly.

Though it made sense that His Majesty, second in line to the imperial succession, Frost Eelheim, would be curious about his cousin’s woman—after all, she was being considered for the position of his consort—

that act of chewing rose petals…

He had seen Commander Solace Moretti do exactly that once while on imperial palace guard duty.

That day, Aaron had seen the commander’s face for the first time.

Solace, who always concealed her face completely with a hood and high collar to hide severe burn scars, had unknowingly lowered her collar that day, not noticing Aaron nearby, and was gently tasting a rose petal she’d plucked.

There were no burn scars to be seen—only lips savoring the petal, redder and more vivid than the rose itself.

Smiling softly, her eyes like green leaves, she gently lifted onto her hand a butterfly drawn by the scent of nectar—she was as beautiful as a saint depicted in a holy painting.

Gone was the fearsome warrior who, clad in bloodstained black armor, had severed the head of a barbarian chieftain and held it aloft…

Her fiery red hair, revealed beneath a hood swaying in the breeze, shimmered translucently in the sunlight.

The sovereign of the Flame Sword—whose mere presence made one’s knees quake and whose blazing blade seemed capable of incinerating the world—now evoked a strangely wistful feeling, owing to her unusually fair, pallid skin.

How could a man be so breathtakingly beautiful?

Along with admiration, a sense of betrayal had surged within him. So the rumors were true—His Majesty preferred men, and his lover was Commander Solace.

To think his respected superior had clouded the Emperor’s judgment with such disgraceful conduct. Thus, betraying him had caused not the slightest hesitation.

Though it would be a lie to claim he hadn’t coveted the position of Imperial Knights Captain. He firmly believed the Emperor’s decision to brand his beloved as a traitor was an extreme but necessary measure to regain sanity.

He had thought it a truly imperial decision befitting the ruler of an empire…

Yet why couldn’t His Majesty let go, continuing these strange behaviors?

“Leave now. I wish to be alone.”

The Emperor reached out, plucked another rose petal, and placed it in his mouth.

As Aaron rose to his feet, he resolved to commission the Information Guild to investigate the woman destined to become the Grand Duke’s consort.

It was surely a marriage of political necessity—but the Grand Duke was no ordinary man.

If the Grande bastard truly came from a courtesan background, perhaps she was a legendary seductress capable of capturing even the Emperor’s attention.

If this rose-petal-chewing, male-loving Emperor could be made to desire women again, then elevating the Grande bastard to the rank of imperial consort might not be a bad idea.

After all, the North would inevitably be crushed by the Emperor—and everything the Grand Duke once possessed would become the Emperor’s, including his woman. The fact that she was his cousin’s lover was a slight inconvenience, but the Emperor was fearless.

Perhaps, unexpectedly, the path to swiftly placing his sister Karina on the throne as Empress lay right here in the North—and with that thought, Aaron quickened his pace.

Left alone in the garden brimming with blooming roses—a painting come to life—the Emperor, more beautiful than any artwork, lay sprawled carelessly on the flowerbed, heedless of his splendid ceremonial robes being soiled. Propping his head on one arm, he stared blankly at the slow-moving clouds above.

[That octopus-shaped cloud looks tastier than the rabbit one, Your Majesty. Oh! Look—a whole roasted pig drifting by!]

Justin rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow.

Beside him, just as yesterday, Solace’s phantom lay there, pointing at the clouds with long fingers and smiling.

And just as yesterday, he smiled wistfully back at the vision.

“…Solace. Does everything you see look edible to you?”

[It’s a habit from childhood. When I was a barefoot beggar roaming the streets, even table legs looked like food.]

“You just… devoured four full plates of lamb skewers by yourself.”

The phantom grinned, turned toward Justin, and rested her chin in her hands.

[Isn’t it strange? Now I can eat as much as I want, yet I still keep imagining food out of habit. Perhaps my body’s hunger has become my heart’s hunger.]

The woman lost forever in time was so beautiful that the Emperor bit his lip.

“…Does imagining that help ease it at all?”

[Only makes my stomach hungrier. Haha. Has Your Majesty never felt that way? When something is so desperately desired yet unattainable, so you claim it for yourself in your imagination?]

“I’m not sure.”

[Hmph. Of course—everything in this world belongs to you. What could possibly be beyond your reach? A foolish question, indeed. Haha.]

“The body’s hunger becomes the heart’s hunger, you say…”

A clear tear slid down the Emperor’s cheek, mixing with blood from his lips, and dropped—*plink, plink*—onto the fine earth below.

Justin Della Ponti finally understood the full meaning of Solace’s words from back then.

In a world where everything became his with a mere outstretched hand, he had become the poorest, most naked soul—ravenous with hunger.

In a world where those emerald eyes, always there whenever he turned, were now gone.

In a world stripped of the clear, refreshing laughter that once washed away the exhaustion of his weary days.

Amidst the ruins of a heart he’d shattered with his own hands,

Justin was starving.

Starving, he conjured those eyes, that laughter. The more he imagined, the hungrier his heart grew—and unable to bear it, he was slowly going mad.

*

“Did you just say the Emperor is coming to attend our wedding?”

I shrieked aloud without realizing it, utterly startled.

The seamstress measuring my wedding dress pricked her finger with a needle at my sudden shout and winced, tears welling in her eyes.

Head butler Alexis nodded.

“Yes. This morning, via communication magic device, His Majesty conveyed his intention to attend your wedding ceremony and deliver his congratulations in person.”

“You didn’t mishear something like ‘marching an army here to behead the Grand Duke,’ did you?”

Seeing I couldn’t calm myself, the Grand Duke—who’d been silently leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, watching me—waved his hand dismissively, sending both the seamstress and maids out of the room.

“Alexis. We’ll have lunch in the garden.”

“Yes, Your Highness. I’ll make the arrangements.”

Alexis skillfully navigated through the reception room—so crowded it looked like an entire jewelry shop and atelier had been moved inside—and slipped out efficiently.

“Lunch, of all things, at a time like this?!”

“It’s mealtime. You especially must eat well.”

“But—but the Emperor is coming! The Emperor!”

“Yes. He says he’s coming to congratulate us on our marriage. Given the large entourage and the valuable gifts he plans to bring, preparing the magic teleportation circle will take time—but he assured us he’d arrive punctually.”

“But that’s—”

Wait—hold on. Is the Grand Duke… speaking formally to me right now?

“W-why are you suddenly using honorifics with me…? Are you angry, Your Highness?”

Justin was the type who’d use overly polite speech to spite someone when he was furious.

“No.”

When he replied so curtly without even smiling with that perfectly handsome face of his, it honestly unnerved me a bit.

“Then… did I do something wrong to you…?”

Even if I did, shouldn’t you forgive me? I did save your life twice when you were at death’s door, after all!

“It’s not that I’m angry with you, nor that you’ve done anything wrong.”

Huh? Then did Marquis Grande or thick-headed Dolman do something foolish? While imperial law mandates extermination of three generations for treason… Your Highness, though my blood is tied to the Grande family, my soul certainly isn’t!

“Then why…?”

The Grand Duke strode toward me with those enviably muscular long legs, extended his hand. Just seeing that massive hand—capable of becoming a weapon even unarmed—made me sigh involuntarily.

Even as Solace, I’d always admired and envied those hands. Now, placing my slender, small hand atop his, I felt only embarrassment and envy.

“My father always treated my mother with the utmost respect. My grandfather did the same with my grandmother. How could I possibly speak informally to the one who will soon become my consort?”

“Oh… Y-yes…”

Though my skin prickled slightly and goosebumps rose, I nodded earnestly as if I understood.

Of course. My Grand Duke is ever so meticulous—since we mustn’t let our ruse be exposed, he maintains this decorum even when we’re alone.

“But… we haven’t even signed the contract yet.”

What if she hands me a twenty-five-clause contract like Airy did? As his sworn liege, it’s only proper I grant him whatever he desires…

“Contracts are unnecessary.”

“What?”

Does he trust me so deeply that he doesn’t even need a written contract? My heart fluttered again—but I quickly reined it in.

“I’ve never met anyone bold enough to break a promise to me. And even if such a person existed—”

The Grand Duke tilted his sharp jaw and quirked the corner of his lips upward. The fact that he was smiling only made it eerier.

“I’d collect my due with their life. Arguing over trivial contract clauses simply isn’t my nature.”

“I’ll definitely cure you, Your Highness! I’ll devote every ounce of my being so you can live a long, happy life with the lovely Lady Shabelle and your true Duchess!”

Without realizing it, I clenched my fist and pressed it to my chest, vowing solemnly.

But why did the Grand Duke’s expression darken? A cold, blade-like chill radiated from his stern, unyielding face.

Of course—how could he stay calm knowing that bastard Justin is coming? He’d heard directly from the Emperor that Empress Dowager Sophia orchestrated the carriage accident that killed his parents.

“Your Highness, shouldn’t we skip the wedding and prepare defenses instead? Do you really believe the Emperor is coming just to witness our ceremony? He must have some ulterior motive!”

“Skip the wedding?”

“The people coming could all be elite fighters. They might hide dangerous items among the gifts. If we don’t prepare in advance—”

“Are you dissatisfied because it’s a hastily arranged ceremony?”

“Huh?”

Frost frowned slightly, glancing at the jewelry boxes and dresses scattered across the sofa and tables.

“Since the position of Duchess has been vacant so long, your taste in jewels and clothing seems to have declined considerably. I’ll immediately summon the capital’s top designers and wring out the best from them. As for the jewels—”

“No, that’s really not necessary—”

“I’ll prepare everything properly so you’ll never utter the words ‘skip the wedding’ again.”

Before I could even protest further, the head maid was summoned at once. The lavish dresses, jewels, and accessories filling the reception room were swiftly cleared away. Alexis broke into a sweat scrambling to urgently locate designers in the capital via teleportation magic circle.

The more I refused, the more jewels and dresses the Grand Duke ordered—so I finally clamped my mouth shut.

After lunch, the Grand Duke led me to the annex.

The first floor displayed ancestral portraits and armor of past family heads and their kin; the second floor housed the family’s treasures.

There, he retrieved a necklace—once gifted by his grandmother to his mother as a token of welcome into the family—and fastened it around my neck.

A massive blue diamond hung from it, and every link of the multi-stranded chain sparkled with embedded diamonds. It was incredibly heavy—

as heavy as the contract the Grand Duke claimed was unnecessary.

[I’d collect my due with their life.]

The cold touch against my skin sent shivers down my spine.

“Do you like it?”

His fingertips traced slowly along the necklace chain. His touch burned hot. Wait—do you have a fever again?

I quickly turned and stood on tiptoe to press my palm to his forehead. He frowned—but there was no fever.

Ah! He must be displeased because I didn’t immediately say I loved the necklace. It’s a family heirloom, after all!

“Yes! I absolutely love it! It’s wonderful!”

Relieved, I saw the Grand Duke smooth his forehead wrinkles and smile contentedly before leading me to the rear of the annex.

Workers were busy removing stones and leveling the ground. I instantly knew what this construction was for—it was exactly what I’d always dreamed of building someday upon retirement to a small fief!

“A small training ground for the Duchess.”

“But… why would you build this for me…?”

“I saw your skill with Mars on the day assassins attacked. I also witnessed how you gathered the power of wind, shaped it like a sharp spear, and struck down those who sought to harm me.”

The Grand Duke had closed the distance in a few swift strides. Placing both hands on my shoulders, he knelt slightly to meet my eyes. My reflection filled his clear, blue gaze.

His eyes were asking—he wanted an explanation for that day.

“…”

I tried gently twisting away, but his grip on my shoulders tightened. He waited stubbornly for my answer.

What could I possibly say?

That I was once the wielder of the Flame Sword, Flama—but lost the blade and died beheaded as Commander Solace Moretti…?

Or that yes, I’d made a pact with the spirit of the Wind Sword—but I didn’t even know where the sword was, and might not be able to save you after all…?

“Answer me.”

“It’s just that…”

“Just what?”

He tilted his head slightly, a familiar smile playing in his eyes.

It was precisely the same smile he used to unsettle foes, lull them into complacency, and then strike their vital point when their guard dropped!

For a moment, I’d forgotten just how relentless and masterful a warrior Frost Eelheim truly was.

Could it be? Were the mountain of dresses and the sudden formal speech part of a feint? Was the heirloom necklace from the previous Duchess and this personal training ground also tactics to make me drop my guard—pretending the battle was already won?

“Yuriella Grande. Just what exactly are you?”

But there’s something the Grand Duke doesn’t know. I, too, was once a relentless warrior who detested losing more than death itself. A change of shell doesn’t alter the core.

I have no intention of losing this fight. The victor’s smile will be mine.

Gathering my wits, I spotted an opening—thankfully.

As Yuriella Grande, I fiercely countered the Grand Duke’s strike.

“That’s what I’d like to ask you. Just what am I to you, Your Highness?”

Did my counter land? The Grand Duke flinched.

“Do you even know what day today is? You probably don’t. If you did, you wouldn’t be treating me this way.”