Headrin removed the cigar he had been holding.
“I was so preoccupied at the time that I couldn’t properly look after the Duchess, and it has been weighing on my mind—”
“Priest.”
“Yes?”
“I am grateful for your concern, but I don’t think this is the time for idle greetings.”
Headrin gestured toward the area where the casualties from the incident were gathered. A flash of embarrassment crossed Miella’s face.
“Ah… I apologize. I was just so pleased to see you that I—”
Instead of leaving immediately, Miella hesitated for a moment before bowing and adding,
“Then, I shall see you another time.”
She turned and walked away, her gaze fixed on Headrin until the very end.
Ruth watched her retreating figure with a look of pity. It was a scene he had witnessed countless times while serving as Headrin’s aide.
*‘Though, unlike others, the only shame about this woman is…’*
The fact that she was a priestess with divine power.
In any case, those with divine power were rare, and having one close by would be helpful.
Yet, despite that immense utility, his lord didn’t even spare her a single glance.
“Still, she is the one who treated the Duke; couldn’t you have been a bit warmer?”
“That is why I told her what to do before she got dragged away for neglect of duty.”
Ruth was struck speechless by Headrin’s dry retort, but it was already water under the bridge.
“Yes, yes. You are just overflowing with affection.”
Ignoring Ruth’s insincere reply, Headrin walked toward his tethered horse.
He could not wait for the situation to be fully settled; his thirst for the woman back at the residence had reached the breaking point of his patience.
* * *
Returning from Headrin’s private study to the bedroom, Blair handed Mihail’s letter to Lina.
“Lina, please burn this.”
“Ah, yes.”
Blair turned her back on Lina as she lit the candle and approached the window. Her eyes wavered with anxiety as she gazed at the scenery outside.
[I have discovered the origin of the crest you requested I investigate.
That crest is engraved on the daggers bestowed by His Grace, the Duke, your husband, upon the knights who braved life and death with him after the war ended.]
*‘Then, the man who killed me is a knight of Del Marc…’*
And one of Headrin’s direct subordinates, at that.
Blair recalled the memory of going to the training ground right after the wedding to check the faces of the knights.
*‘But none of them had a scar on the bridge of their nose.’*
Did I miss it?
Pacing the room anxiously, Blair checked the time and immediately left, heading down to the first floor.
At this hour, the knights would be having their lunch training at the grounds. She wasn’t a mistress who doted on them, but it wouldn’t seem strange for a mistress to check on them.
As Blair reached the bottom of the stairs and turned toward the back entrance of the residence, she heard a commotion from the foyer.
*‘Has Headrin returned?’*
Just as she thought that, she bumped into Mason, who was coming out from the first floor.
“Ah, Your Grace. You’ve just come down at the right time.”
“Has someone arrived?”
“A few people from the main castle have arrived. They seem to wish to pay their respects to you; if you aren’t too busy, could you spare a moment?”
She wanted to go to the training ground immediately, but it wouldn’t look right to ignore them and walk away flatly.
*‘Nothing will change if I’m a few minutes late.’*
Blair gave a small nod.
“I shall.”
Blair followed Mason out to the foyer of the residence. Five knights on horseback approached and dismounted in front of her and Mason.
They were all covering their faces with cloaks to shield themselves from the sharp winter wind.
The man standing in the center approached with a smooth, practiced air.
“Oh, my. I never imagined Her Grace would come out personally to welcome us on our first meeting… This is an honor. Had I known, I would have bought a gift on the way.”
Blair, who had been watching the man approach as he lowered his cloak, froze. The eyes visible above the fabric were familiar.
*‘This man is…’*
Blair’s pupils shook violently as she remembered those eyes.
They were the eyes of the assassin who had killed her.
He had no scar on the bridge of his nose, but it was undoubtedly him.
“Nice to meet you, Your Grace. I am Caligo Elparind, a knight of Del Marc.”
He kissed the back of Blair’s hand with a sly, knowing air. The touch of his lips against her skin felt dreadfully chilling.
*‘I never considered the possibility that he might be a knight from the main castle.’*
Blair’s hand trembled in his grip. She needed to say something, but it felt as though someone were strangling her, suffocating her.
Just then, the sound of approaching hoofbeats was heard. It was Headrin, Ruth, and a few knights. They had returned just ahead of him.
As soon as Caligo saw Headrin, he beamed and let go of Blair’s hand.
“My, even His Grace welcomes us so warmly.”
However, Headrin, having dismounted, ignored Caligo and walked straight toward Blair.
Even though he had arrived, Blair could not tear her gaze away from Caligo.
Seeing this, Headrin ordered Caligo to leave.
“That’s enough with the greetings. Caligo, you must be tired from the long journey, go and rest.”
“Yes, sir. Then, I shall see you again, Your Grace.”
Caligo greeted her with practiced ease and rode off with the knights who had come with him.
Blair stared at his retreating back. She looked somewhat precarious.
Headrin, who had instinctively reached out to hold Blair, paused upon noticing the dirt on his clothes. He removed his leather gloves and took Blair’s hand with his bare one.
Feeling that warmth, Blair finally lifted her gaze, which had been fixed like a statue, to look at him.
“Are you not feeling well?”
His hand was as warm as always, yet she feared his heat.
She feared he might change at any moment and wrap his hands around her throat.
Blair gently withdrew her hand from his grip and replied.
“……I’m fine.”
Headrin furrowed his brow. Contrary to her words, her expression did not look fine at all.
He commanded Lina, who was nearby.
“Escort the Duchess to her room.”
As Blair was being helped to her room by Lina, she looked back. Headrin was talking to Mason about something.
Words she could neither ask nor receive answers to scratched at her throat.
* * *
Back in her room, Blair sat blankly on her bed.
As her emotions subsided and her head cooled, questions and hypotheses began to surface one by one.
*‘Why did that man kill me?’*
He had no significant ties to her, so it couldn’t be out of personal resentment, nor likely a private motive. There was no benefit for a mere knight to gain from killing her.
Could it be Headrin’s doing after all…?
Blair stopped herself from thinking further.
*‘……No, no. Perhaps the knight named Caligo thought I was an obstacle to Del Marc.’*
While he had approached her amicably as a stranger today, he might have acted unilaterally, wanting to remove her because his loyalty to Headrin was so deep.
But there was a catch to that assumption.
*‘Before I am the Duchess, I am an Imperial Princess. If anything happens to me, it would lead to friction with the Imperial Family. Would he really go that far?’*
Blocked by a dead end, another hypothesis emerged.
*‘Perhaps that man is a spy planted by a third party who desires conflict between the Imperial Family and Del Marc.’*
As such, Headrin might be unrelated to her death. However……
*‘……No. I must not trust anyone.’*
The possibility that the mastermind was Headrin could not be completely ruled out.
Come to think of it, there were many reasons for Headrin to be displeased with her.
She was a wife forced upon him by the family of his enemy, she lacked the memories to clear Esmeralda’s false charges, and he had a woman he loved separately.
Blinded by love, he might have tried to kill a wife who was useless and only an obstacle.
She found it laughable that she had foolishly thought, even for a moment, that he might be unrelated to her death.
Blair rubbed her anxious hands, contemplating her future plans.
*‘Simply running away without knowing anything will solve nothing.’*
If it were Caligo’s personal feelings or an action born of loyalty, resigning from the position of Duchess or running away might solve everything, but if there was a mastermind behind it, the story changed.
As long as there was a mastermind with a clear purpose for her death, they might continue to try to kill her.
To avoid death, she first had to know why she had to die, and to uncover that, she had to learn about Caligo.
*‘Who is he conspiring with, and why did he kill me?’*
Blair decided to commission an investigation into Caligo to Mihail and began to pull out stationery to write the letter.
At that moment, she sensed someone behind her.
“I didn’t hear you knock, so I thought you might have drifted off to sleep.”
Blair flinched at Headrin’s sudden appearance, covering the letter she was writing and looking back at him.
Headrin was in a robe, as if he had just washed up. His gaze was fixed on the letter.
Only then did she realize that her actions might look suspicious, but fortunately, he merely looked at it for a moment without asking anything.
He picked Blair up easily and sat in the chair himself. Then, he began to undo the ribbons of her dress. The action was incredibly natural.
As the dress loosened, her white, round shoulders were revealed. Headrin buried his lips into her shoulder and asked.
“Are you feeling better?”
The hot breath that flowed with his languid, low voice tickled her shoulder. His unhesitating contact, to which she should have been accustomed by now, still felt alien to Blair.
Noticing that he was asking because he remembered her bad complexion from earlier, Blair answered a beat too late.
“……I am fine.”
As if he took those words as permission, his hand, which had been clutching her waist, moved up to cup her soft mound.