If I Disobey the Duke - Chapter 112
Sad Dream (1)
Trigger warning: hints of ableism, mentions of prostitution and violence
From that day on, all of Cadis’ citizens had gathered and told that story.
Rather than when the lord took over or when the duchess suddenly appeared, this was a better topic.
The entrance to the side road, where even the shadows did not come easily. A dark red sunset permeated the shabby, dusty tavern.
It was full of cheap music and vulgar conversation.
The dwarf farmer chuckled as he set the wooden beer mug down on the round table with a tooth missing.
A tall, slender guy sitting across from him shook his head.
“I thought a saint appeared in the city. I memorized everything Madam said. Did you listen?”
“You say funny things. Can you put me in your compliments too?”
A suspicious man in a black robe lowered his hood and intervened.
“Rumor has it that the duchess entered the city?”
He had a majestic stature and hair as bright red as flames. He was smiling cheerfully, but he somewhat had a belligerent air to him. The two farmers instinctively withdrew.
The dwarf slid into the corner of the chair.
“What. People like you again. What kind of neighborhood is this really…” Rocus spat on the floor as if fed up. He turned cold in an instant.
Even his pretense of a smile was removed, and he laid his chin on the backrest.
“Look. It’s very difficult for people like you to mix with others.”
The tall farmer blinked his eyes in fright. “T-the security guards followed one woman in a mask. Maybe she was trying to sneak in.”
“Ahaha. Is that so? That’s funny.” Rocus laughed and drank the farmer’s beer naturally. The two farmers were startled.
“On your sleeve… Bloodstains…”
Rocus simply wiped the beer from his chin lightly. “Yeah. I educated my brother. He kept asking questions. I came and saw him. But why does alcohol taste like this?”
The two farmers exchanged anxious glances
“Young man. You’re not from this city but you can’t do that here. If you hit a young child or buy a woman, your head will be on the wall…”
“Why does alcohol taste like this?”
The tall farmer sighed deeply. “It’s because of the Prohibition Order. We are fortunate that Madam gave us a grace period… Even at the tavern, the drinks are less strong because they are saving it.”
“Prohibition? Wow, that’s crazy…” Rocus sighed in shock. After a moment’s silence, he placed his elbows on the table and supported his temples with his fists. “I have to go see the business sooner rather than later. No one can buy a woman. We can’t even beat stubborn children. We can’t even drink. This is none other than a living hell.”
“If you live, you must obey the rules. This place was so barren until the lord came…”
“Noisy. I’m not interested in his life, so talk about the duchess.” Rocus pounded the table with his hammer-like fist. Beer glasses and appetizer plates bounced.
The peasants were terrified and nodded hastily.
“She said this…”
“I tried to visit you secretly in the stead of the lord who was curious about everyone. I’m just glad to see everyone from so far away.
The Lord is always looking over work to see if everything’s fine. As a mistress, I am always concerned about you.
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So, let’s hope for the safe return of the lord…”
The farmer who had spoken up there paused for a moment.
They seemed to be excited again just by talking about the duchess.
It was heartbreaking to see how aggrieved she was with longing.
They chatted for a while, but Rocus didn’t say anything.
His expression gradually darkened.
The farmer delivered the duchess’ last appeal.
“Please sincerely pray for my husband’s safe return.”
Rocus clenched his teeth with a grim expression as if he was going to kill someone. The farmers were quiet.
“Fuck, darn it. Tristan was right. She’s totally obsessed with the mongrel.”
It has to be stupid enough.
His clenched fists on the table filled with strength.
Green eyes glanced over the peasants who held their breaths in fear.
“You two. Follow me right now.”
* * *
The pale moonlight spilled into Vlad’s office.
A faint light barely reached the huge office chair resembling its owner’s body.
Lily was buried in that huge chair. It was as if she had slipped into Vlad’s arms. Her silver hair, braided to one side, reflected the cold moonlight.
She looked particularly sad, eyes downcast and draped in a burgundy cloak over her negligee.
There was too much to think about.
Dandelion shut his mouth tightly in the end, not saying anything.
He was like a child who came running with a commotion.
The second matter, which was about the women disappearing in the alleys
And last but not least…
She lay down on her table. The nape of her slender neck, fresh white, was listless.
“…I can’t do anything.”
She was about to cry.
There was an empty sheet under her neat fingernails. There were written drafts scattered all around.
After returning from Cadis, the paper had been in her hands all day.
“Please sincerely pray for my husband’s safe return.”
She shouldn’t have said that.
The iron door that had been locked with a rusty chain broke. Her emotions poured out all day long.