TPMBHSW 02

Chapter 02

The funeral procedures of the central nobility are unique.

When a head of family dies, the body is buried in a cemetery established in the capital for about a hundred years. Afterward, once everyone who would mourn him has also died, he is relocated to the estate.

It was a custom born from the fact that, for generations, heads of family spent more time in the capital than on their estates.

My task today was to sprinkle dirt over my father’s coffin as it was buried deep in the cemetery. In other words, all these people had gathered just to watch a handful of dirt being thrown.

“Everyone must have rushed here dying of curiosity about how you, my lady—ah, I suppose I should say Your Grace now—Duke Bellua, would react to the appearance of your ex-lover.”

Noah, who was assisting with the ceremony behind me, kindly explained the situation. The problem was that it was entirely unnecessary kindness.

“Truly absurd. How long ago was that, and everyone’s in such an uproar.”

“No couple has caused a scandal that big since, so please endure it.”

What is this, a relay race? As if we needed a baton pass. I was dumbfounded but didn’t retort further. It wasn’t the time for it.

The majestic bell tolling noon began to slowly fade.

‘It’s time.’

It was time for the new head of family to send off the predecessor.

I walked relying on the fragmented vision visible through the dense veil. At some point, the noise around me disappeared. I felt all my senses concentrating on the scene unfolding before my eyes.

I stopped before the deeply dug pit. The coffin, hidden by mounds of flowers, wasn’t even visible at its edges.

“what use is a girl besides becoming Empress!”

Perhaps because old stories were being tossed around from all sides, what happened to reach my ears was my father’s harsh voice from ten years ago.

What a shame. The girl you said could never amount to anything has become Duke Bellua, Father.

‘He must be fuming even now.’

I let out a faint smile and looked at the coffin. Even at the final moment, no tears came, but with so many eyes watching, I should at least pretend to cry…

“My goodness, he really came.”

“I heard he passed through the capital checkpoint at dawn… Then did he come straight here? Abandoning even the Princess?”

Murmuring.

Whispering.

And the thoughts that had been building toward a strange excitement were abruptly cut off. I froze on the spot.

It’s Richard. He’s come.

Why?

The first thing that entered my mind was a question.

Why? Why on earth did he come? Does he still resent me? Or did he come to spit on my father’s grave?

“Could it be he still has lingering feelings?”

At that moment, someone’s whispered words burrowed into my ear.

Lingering feelings.

That he still, for me.

I reflexively raised my head. My body moved before my mind did.

‘Ah.’

A beat too late, I realized I shouldn’t have done that.

Three days after my father’s death. Having been worked to the bone handling the aftermath with less than three hours of sleep a day, the moment I faced the sun, my vision swam.

I only realized my body was tilting after the sky came into view. I couldn’t steady myself.

‘Damn it, Father. Now that you think it’s the end, do you want to see my face?’

In the deep pit was a coffin, and atop it thousands of flowers. So even if I fell, I wouldn’t die.

Probably.

The moment I squeezed my eyes shut and cursed inwardly, someone roughly grabbed me. A hot, firm hand caught my arm. Another hand quickly supported my body that was about to plunge downward.

Amid screams of shock from all sides, the moment my body was pulled up.

“…Richard.”

I murmured his name and promptly lost consciousness.

* * *

“Honestly. I’m speechless. Do you know how dumbfounded I was when the physician said Your Grace was in deep sleep?”

The moment I opened my eyes, Noah launched into a tirade.

“Why on earth didn’t you sleep? I checked myself to make sure you went into your room, precisely because I feared this!”

“I was just going to look at some urgent documents for a moment in bed…”

“Hah!”

What can I do when I concentrate better in bed?

When I averted my gaze, Noah clicked his tongue. After threatening to remove the nightstand and lamp from my bedroom immediately, he soon swallowed a sigh and spoke.

“So what will you do?”

“About what?”

“About the uninvited guest who’s occupying the drawing room, insisting he absolutely won’t leave until he sees with his own two eyes that Your Grace is fine.”

“…Don’t tell me that uninvited guest is Richard?”

“Who else but that man would shamelessly plant himself in someone else’s drawing room without an invitation?”

I rose from the bed in shock.

“You should have told me that first!”

The dark window outside was the first thing I saw. How many hours did I sleep? No wonder my body felt light.

“Why didn’t you wake me!”

When I crossed the bedroom scolding him, an incredulous answer came back.

“Wake someone who fainted from accumulated fatigue? For a knight who looks like he could punch a monster to death with his bare hands?”

“Sounds like Richard’s reputation has gone up.”

Just days ago he was calling him a bastard, and now he’s a knight. As I roughly threw on my coat, Noah grumbled beside me.

“I do acknowledge the merit of him saving you, my lady.”

Ah. That’s what it was.

It was something to be grateful for. If I’d fallen onto the coffin then, I really would have been talked about for ages.

As if there were only one or two people pretending to worry about the Bellua Dukedom’s wellbeing while enjoying the gossip. And what about my great-uncle Gerard and my aunt Claire?

I pushed thoughts of the family elders to a corner of my mind and asked about Richard.

“So he’s still in the drawing room?”

“Yes.”

“Has he eaten?”

“Should I serve meals to a guest who’s planted himself here without an invitation?”

Why get stingy again there?

“You starved him?”

“I gave him simple refreshments, so if you have the presence of mind to worry, take care of your own body. That man will be fine even if he starves for days.”

Leaving Noah clicking his tongue behind me, I quickly adjusted my attire and headed straight out of the room.

“Waiting another hour or two won’t cause any great problem!”

Starving a knight for over half a day and saying it won’t cause a problem!

I hurriedly crossed the corridor.

My heart began pounding with a strange anticipation.

Let’s look at only the objective facts.

Richard came to a funeral he hadn’t even received an obituary for. He saved me, and he’s waiting in the drawing room for over half a day to see my face.

No one would go to such lengths just to pour out resentment.

If so, there could only be one reason.

‘Still.’

If he still had feelings for me.

My steps quickened with anxiety.

Perhaps we could start again.

When I grasped the drawing room doorknob, my heart was beating so fast it wouldn’t have been strange if it burst right then. I heard a few servants notice me and hurriedly approach, but I opened the door faster.

“Rich…”

“Oh my.”

A chandelier softly lighting the drawing room and the warm flames of the fireplace.

A beautiful woman leaning comfortably on the dark beige sofa smiled at me.

‘Huh?’

Why is there a woman I don’t know in the central drawing room of the Bellua Dukedom?

I unconsciously scanned her.

Her long, trailing pale pink hair was thickly waved and fluffy, and as if she’d traveled long, the fabric was patched here and there with the North’s distinctive leather.

“I was worried when I heard you collapsed—are you all right, Duke?”

Her deep blue eyes curved thinly. It was someone I’d never seen before, but I could tell who she was.

Why? Because her eye color was the same as that damned Damon’s.

“Princess… Your Highness?”

“Oh my. You recognize me? Calling me Princess and all. Instead of such a stiff title, please call me Sasha. If you’re close with Richard, you’re my friend too!”

“…Ah, yes.”

I answered creakily at her cheerful smile.

Your friend is my friend, we’re all friends—it was a way of thinking I’d never even entertained as a child.

Behind that brightness, so out of place in high society, a figure rose.

Hair black as pitch, eyes a heavy, sunken dark red. Draped over his shoulders was leather that seemed to hold the North’s chill itself…

“Richard Winston.”

Facing the man whose once midsummer-sunlight face was now utterly cold, I blankly murmured his name.

“I heard you were meeting a friend after a long time, and it seems that’s true. Duke, there’s no need to be so nervous. No matter how Richard looks, he’s ever so gentle.”

From beside me, the Princess—Sasha—cut in. She clearly thought she was mediating between estranged friends. Then she turned to Richard and asked.

“Right, Rich?”

That’s my nickname.

My nickname alone.

I looked at Richard, struggling to suppress the feelings welling up. If he were the Richard I knew, he would sternly warn Sasha to draw a firm line.

However.

“Yes, Sasha. I’m always kind to you.”

The voice that flowed out softly was a level lower and thicker than in my memory.

The cold gaze that had brushed past me melted like spring sunlight the moment it reached Sasha.