I Tamed the Black Duke as a Terminally-Ill Saint (3 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 8

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‘How strange.’

No matter how dull I am, I can’t help but notice something this obvious.

I don’t know if it’s the maids or the kitchen staff, but someone is deliberately ruining my meals.

Of course, I had no intention of telling the Grand Duke.

After all, I’m merely an uninvited guest burdened upon him, while the maids and cooks have long served under him.

Yet, I didn’t want to confront the maids either.

They might obediently bring me bread and soup, but what if they spat into it afterward?

Thus, after much deliberation, I settled on a solution…

I’d raid the kitchen.

Hugging a sack brimming with loot, I beamed with joy.

‘So happy!’

Perhaps because it was late autumn, the kitchen was overflowing with fruits harvested throughout the year.

There were so many apples and pears that taking a few wouldn’t even be noticed.

I even snatched a slice of apple pie.

Judging by its delicious aroma, it surely tasted wonderful.

But my happy plunder didn’t last long.

“She didn’t even eat the cheese this time? What’s wrong with that woman!”

I quickly hid myself and pricked up my ears.

I had a pretty good idea who the “that woman” the cook was loudly complaining about might be.

Maybe I’d finally find out why my meals always turned out this way.

“Maybe she realized we gave her cheese gnawed by rats.”

What?

For a moment, I doubted my ears.

What did he just say?

“Shouldn’t she be grateful just to get that much? His Grace said to keep her from starving—that’s all.”

“…But what if she reports us to His Grace? However it is, she’s His Grace’s first consort, after all.”

“A woman he’s never even spent a night with counts as a consort? He must’ve just brought in some lowborn girl out of curiosity.”

“Still, we might be going too far. We should pay more attention to her next meal.”

“Right, let’s send her barley porridge this time.”

A tangled mess of shock and fury bubbled inside my stomach.

Given how poorly consorts seem to be regarded in Donovan’s Grand Duchy, I could understand why my meals were so poorly prepared—even with abundant ingredients.

But cheese chewed by rats?

That wasn’t something I could let slide quietly.

Of course, for now…

‘I should speak to the Grand Duke and clear up this rumor.’

Thinking about it, there were more than just one or two odd things.

From the butler panicking when I asked for a room on the same floor, to the maid who didn’t wake me until the bathwater had grown so cold my body trembled.

This hostility couldn’t be explained by mere resentment toward a freeloader.

Thud thud.

Only after the two cooks left the kitchen did I emerge from my hiding spot.

Gurgle…

With the tension gone, my stomach growled loudly.

I stared blankly at the sack.

Surely the Grand Duke wouldn’t die just because I delayed telling him a little longer.

But if I didn’t eat these lovely foods soon, I felt like I might die.

‘I should find a safe place where I can eat in peace.’

Hades Crohittner massaged his shoulders.

Attacks from demon armies occurred once every two or three months, but that didn’t lessen the exhaustion of the duchy’s citizens.

Fortunately, the Grand Ducal Castle stood at the frontline against the demon hordes, so the territory itself remained unharmed—but cleaning up afterward fell to the knights.

‘I’ll likely need to raise their pay.’

Trending

Demon horns sold for high prices.

Even a small share of that profit would boost the knights’ morale.

The problem was that winter was coming soon, and trade routes would close…

‘I must find buyers before that happens.’

Hades fell into thought for a moment.

If only he could forge a path alone—but while freezing things was his forte, thawing wasn’t.

‘…Perhaps the Saintess could manage it, if she channels holy flame.’

For a fleeting moment, the image of that mouse-like Saintess flashed through his mind.

He quickly shook his head.

Despite her surprisingly sharp wit—contrary to her pitiful appearance—he’d confirmed multiple times that her actual divine power was negligible.

‘She won’t be any help at all.’

Hades sighed.

He’d likely have to postpone the pay raise until spring.

At least the knights’ loyalty remained his one comfort.

Especially Sir William, captain of the knights, and his deputy Sir Tobias, who both possessed skill and integrity, serving as reliable right and left hands.

Hades rose from his seat.

Though it was nearly time to sleep, he intended to dispel distracting thoughts through training.

Particularly on nights after annihilating demon armies, when his dreams grew restless—he often trained until completely exhausted.

‘I’ll head to the training grounds tonight, for the first time in a while.’

The drill field would be filled with knights practicing as usual.

Not wanting to unsettle knights who were likely already tired, Hades headed toward the private training grounds instead.

‘What’s this?’

The moment he entered, Hades frowned.

The presence he sensed wasn’t familiar, yet not entirely unfamiliar either.

He moved silently toward the source of that presence.

Unlike the spacious, open drill field, the private training grounds featured a complex layout that enabled diverse exercises.

Which also meant plenty of places to hide.

‘…?’

Hades frowned again.

The intruder seemed to have concealed herself among sculptures modeled after valley rocks.

She’d hidden herself fairly well—except for one problem: strands of silvery hair stuck out between the rock crevices.

Even under dim light, they gleamed white as snow.

As he drew closer, he saw Angelica muttering to herself.

Hades stared at her in disbelief.

Of all the places in the castle, why choose this dusty training ground to pass time?

As his personal guest, she could have been welcomed anywhere in the castle.

Yet here she was, crouching in this grimy training hall.

That wasn’t all that baffled him.

‘What on earth is she wearing?’

Even a Saintess would feel the cold unless she could ignite holy flame.

Yet the outfit Angelica wore now exposed so much of her chest that goosebumps were clearly visible.

Though Hades rarely paid attention to young women’s fashion, even he could tell this wasn’t ordinary attire.

But Hades quickly revised his thoughts.

Angelica’s gaze sharpened, and the Holy Sword suddenly radiated brilliant light.

‘She’s training.’

A faint smile touched Hades’s lips.

He’d thought of her only as a clever but weak Saintess, but it seemed she possessed ambition—striving to improve without relying solely on her wits.

‘That’s good.’

He decided to quietly observe her training.

If she ever struggled to control the Holy Sword’s power and found herself in danger, he’d step in immediately.

ads

‘What?’

Hades tilted his head in confusion.

Angelica bent down and pulled an apple from a sack lying at her feet.

‘Is she practicing slicing it into ten pieces in one strike?’

But his guess was completely off.

Angelica began peeling the apple with slightly awkward motions.

‘It must be training.’

Hades briefly faltered but quickly steeled his resolve.

Though peeling fruit thinly was more fitting for a cook than a swordsman, Angelica was a Saintess from the countryside.

Perhaps this was simply the best training she could conceive of.

But his positive thinking soon hit another wall.

Angelica quartered the apple and started stuffing a huge bite into her mouth.

Hades stared blankly.

He was aghast at the sight of the Holy Sword—a relic guarded for dozens of generations—being used as a fruit knife.

But only for a moment.

When Angelica pulled out a ripe pear next, Hades’s patience reached its limit.

“What on earth do you think the Holy Sword is, Saintess?”

“…!”

Angelica’s eyes widened in shock, and the pear slipped from her hand.

‘She never ceases to amaze.’

Hades sighed and froze the pear midair to stop it from falling.

He didn’t want to see the juicy pear splatter across the training floor.

“Y-Y-Your Grace!”

Angelica scrambled to stand and bow, but the half-chewed apple in her mouth garbled her words.

Hades caught the pear from the air.

“Are my servants starving you?”

“…No.”

Her reply came a beat too late.

Hades fixed his gaze on her.

He wasn’t dull.

The fact that she snuck away to eat in secret clearly meant she wasn’t getting proper meals.

Perhaps the staff had even discouraged her from eating altogether.

As he stepped forward, Angelica visibly stiffened.

“Things won’t change unless you speak up.”

“Will they change if I do?”

Hades’s eyes narrowed.

For the first time, Angelica’s eyes—previously filled with fear—flashed with defiance.

“Yes.”

Her answer came instantly.

“Everyone thinks I’m Your Grace’s consort.”

For a brief moment, silence fell.

I swallowed hard.

Though I’d blurted out the truth in a fit of anger, I was still terrified of Hades’s reaction.

If he believed me, that would be fortunate—but he might just fly into a rage, accusing me of slandering his servants.

“…Consort.”

Hades’s voice was so calm that I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“So that’s it.”

“Yes. It seems being Your Grace’s consort makes me fair game for hatred.”

I tried not to sound overly bitter.

Since I needed to ask a favor to escape this situation, I didn’t want to sound resentful.

ads

“So, if Your Grace could just deny this rumor…”

“Why should I deny it?”

For a moment, I thought I’d misheard.

What on earth was Hades Crohittner thinking?

Being seen as a tyrant who keeps a universally despised consort wouldn’t benefit him either.

I asked, bewildered,

“Why shouldn’t you deny it?”

Hades’s reply came slowly.

“…It’s not because they see you as my consort that you’re mistreated.”

“But they definitely call me your consort and say that’s why I don’t deserve proper meals…!”

“It’s because they see you as a consort I’ve lost interest in.”

I blinked.

Was that it?

It did seem that way.

I scrutinized Hades’s face, trying to decipher his intent—but his expression was as unreadable as a mask.

“If I start showing you favor, flatterers will flock to you. Just a hint from me, and you could have anything you desire.”

“Do you think that’s what I want?”

A cold smile appeared on Hades’s face.

“It’s what I want.”

“…What?”

“Accept everything offered to you, then report to me who gave what and when. I need to root out all the opportunists—so you’d better mingle actively.”

I bit my lip.

“Then, what Your Grace expects from me is…”

Hades nodded.

“Become a consort worthy of history.”

I had to bite my tongue to keep from blurting out what was on my mind.

Are you…

even in your right mind right now?

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