“If I were not sincere, how could I say such things in front of you? I swear it. It’s not me. Never.”

“How are you going to prove it?”

Finally, an opportunity.

Beke swallowed hard. His mouth was dry, and his tongue felt stuck to the membrane, but he couldn’t miss the opportunity.

“However you want.”

Levianna silently crossed her arms. She was as confused as him, as if she couldn’t grasp anything.

Beke opened his mouth again.

“If I can regain your trust, I can do anything.”

He added, but Levianna still kept her mouth shut.

Beke rolled his eyes in silence, and seeing Levianna’s gaze fall on the letter on the floor, he quickly bent down.

The ink was slightly smeared, but the contents of the letter were unchanged. It contained Margaret’s confession that the child in her belly was Beke’s.

Levianna stared at it for a moment before finally opening her mouth.

“Let me meet Margaret.”

“…Margaret?”

“If the letter was really manipulated, Margaret can prove it.”

That wasn’t too hard.

Margaret had been a bit assertive recently, but she was submissive. If he persuaded her properly, she would tweak the story in his favor.

Of course, under the premise that Margaret was safe.

Beke’s lips twitched.

“Why? Can’t I?”

“No. Of course.”

He had briefly considered telling her that Margaret had been kidnapped, but soon gave up.

Judging by Levianna’s expression, it seemed unlikely that she would simply believe him if he pinned all the charges on the kidnapper.

Margaret’s letter didn’t just reveal that Beke was the father of the child. It also contained a farewell message that she was leaving and not to look for her anymore.

There was nothing to gain from revealing Margaret’s disappearance in the current situation. He would be lucky if he didn’t provoke more suspicion from Levianna by mentioning it.

“I’ll contact her right away.”

Beke lifted his lips again.

To leave the letter as a fake, Margaret had to be safe.

Beke’s hand holding the letter tightened.

“You’re skilled. I really thought Margaret wrote it.”

“I’ve met all sorts of people in my mercenary, um, no. That’s not it! Hahaha.”

The last laugh was too forced. Anyone who heard it would have thought he was trying to change the subject in a panic.

Cheshire held back his urge to tear his hair out and pressed his forehead with his hand. He didn’t have anything to boast about. He wondered what he was trying to say in front of Levianna.

Cheshire glanced at Levianna, his shoulders drooping.

She didn’t seem to care, but he was still worried.

Cheshire Cat, as you can tell from his name, wasn’t an aristocrat. No, rather, it was impossible to know.

He was an infant left anonymously in front of an orphanage, with no parents or siblings, not even a decent name.

When the orphanage received a huge amount of cheese, they started calling the abandoned child Cheshire, which eventually became his name. His nimble body reminded them of a cat, so they called him that as a nickname, which became his surname.

But it wasn’t bad. Cheshire liked his name and the people who called him that.

He always thought it was a blessing that he was left at an orphanage sponsored by Creighton.

Creighton was a generous sponsor. Life in the orphanage wasn’t luxurious, but it wasn’t lacking either. And above all, Cheshire liked the people there.

Of course, that included Creighton’s daughter who came by sometimes.

“How is Margaret?”

Cheshire inadvertently swallowed his breath at the sight of the blue eyes he accidentally met.

Time had passed a lot, but it was useless. Whenever he saw those eyes, he naturally tensed up. He felt like a little kid from those days.

Now he was a proper adult.

Cheshire regained his composure and exhaled the breath he had been holding.

“It seems that she is increasingly reaching her mental limit. She had spoken of opening her mouth herself last time, and today, she was on her knees crying and pleading.”

“Then we can slowly start.”

As Liviana tilted her head, her long hair followed and fluttered.

The faintly colored blonde hair was not flamboyant, but it had a certain quality that reminded one of the gentle spring sunshine. And, at the same time, it was what spoke most clearly of Liviana’s lineage.

Of course, not all Craitons had platinum blonde hair. Looking at the portraits of past Duke Craitons, one could often see different hair colors.

But at least the Craitons that Cheshire had seen had that. Liviana’s father, the previous Duke Craiton, had the same color as her, and so did her brother, even her daughter.

Among the Craitons Cheshire knew, there was only one with a different color.

Beck Craiton. A man with an overbearing name for his stature, whom he would bring to an end someday with his own hands.

Cheshire clasped the hilt of the sword with his thumb.

Although Liviana pretended not to notice his reaction, he also pretended not to know, but that didn’t mean nothing was seen.

A man who had watched a woman for a long time was sensitive to even the smallest of her reactions.

Just before entering the room where Margaret was confined, Liviana had clearly hesitated to take a step, even if only for a moment. It was not difficult to notice that something was going on just from that.

Cheshire suppressed the boiling inside him like a soup on a high flame and shoved his sword further into its sheath.

He hoped it wasn’t so, but his heart was already certain.

Liviana, being of high noble birth, couldn’t possibly know torture methods. She was not the type to harm anyone, and even the suspicious event of ten years ago was something Liviana had unilaterally suffered. She was not in a position to torture someone.

Then, in the end, the possibilities he could consider were limited.

Liviana had been wronged. In the same way that Margaret is being wronged now.