My Vengeful Former Lover - Chapter 117
“Ah.”
The hand tending to a wound paused after hearing a soft moan. Deatrice realized she was making those noises only when Rosalynn looked up at her.
“Are you alright, m’lady?”
There was worry and surprise within those eyes. Her fingers carefully examined her lady’s wound which had already healed by a large margin. It shouldn’t be that painful anymore, but it was still enough to make one wince.
So, Deatrice’s short moan probably came from being distracted by something else on her mind rather than feeling the pain.
Everything progressed unbearably slow. The seasons changed by the day and people busily went in and out of the manor. But Deatrice felt that she was still trapped within the memories of that day, a mixture of mild weather and hot breath.
“Do you want to do it with me?”
His soft whisper and the kiss they shared shortly after swirled around her mind. Most of her thoughts had devastating anger directed against him, but there were moments when even that anger felt strange.
The rustling of her clothes as he bunched them in his palm, the feeling of his silhouette towering above her with his arms pinning her down, and that fervent kiss that made her head go fuzzy.
Now, those things remained only in her memory, but the small cut from a stone when he pushed her down was still with her.
Why is he so silent?
She gestured to Rosalynn, pulling her down to sit.
He acted hastily before like he couldn’t wait to hug her immediately. But after returning home, he was silent as a mouse. As if nothing had ever happened.
Maybe he suddenly realized how crazy he was at that time and was now regretting it. Deatrice thought cynically for a moment but soon withdrew the thought.
No, this wasn’t regret. When she accidentally ran into him before mealtime, he passed her with her laid-back attitude rather than avoiding her with awkwardness.
His actions needed more than just silence for them to be considered as regret. It felt more like he was waiting for something, with the certainty that what he was waiting for will surely fall into his hands.
Then what is he waiting for?
Without much thought, Deatrice was able to answer. It’s her. She was almost certain that it was her.
She wasn’t being vain when she thought of it, but with his gentle glance and brief smile, she could see that his attitude was the same as if his thoughts still lingered during that day behind the bush.
He still wanted her…
But Deatrice’s thoughts always stopped there. Because she couldn’t figure out why he was waiting for her or what kind of certainty he clung onto.
Unable to withstand the wind mixed with the chill of autumn, she closed the window. Soon after, in her soon-to-be-arrived letter, she knew everything he was up to.
“…thank you for willingly allowing me to stay at your house and for that reason, I have prepared a small gift for you… Since we haven’t chosen a painter to paint portraits yet, we’ll pick a few and recommend them… All expenses will be taken care of by our family…”
And after checking the affixed signature adorning it, Deatrice crumpled the letter. The letter stated that the duke’s close friend, Marquis Wilton, was visiting.
“Where is Lucius?”
“He is practicing archery in the backyard, m’lady.”
The day was gloomy, and rain felt like it would pour any moment from now. The grass in the garden was also damp and darkened, and the hem of Deatrice’s green dress that she wore quickly muddied. It goes without saying that her thin, indoor shoes became filthy almost immediately.
But maybe it was because it was padded lightly that she could feel more of the earth than usual.
“Lucius.” She murmured as soon as she saw his pale blonde hair and his body firmly positioned on the ground. He fired his bow at the target, then looked at her as if he heard her muttering.
She knew he was doing something similar to training on days when he couldn’t train normally because of administrative tasks, but for Deatrice, all of this felt like a play.
Before the darkened sky, his body turned opposite of her as if the new visitor did not interest him at all.
After shooting a second arrow, he glanced back at her.
She thought that Lucius would pretend not to know anything and look back at her in wonder. But in reality, Lucius looked at her face, saw the letter in her hand, and smiled as if he had expected it. “So, you have read the letter.”
Holding back her irritation, Deatrice answered.
“I have.”
He smiled again, turned around, and pulled the bowstring. “You seem angry…”
“Why are you doing this?” She asked aggressively. She, of course, had already guessed his intentions, but she still wanted to question and strangle him for his childish and cowardly behavior. Nevertheless, she still gave him a chance to respond.
But Lucius skillfully took a step back, as is often the case with the aristocrats.
“I had no choice. The empress asked me a favor.”
“Are you saying that Wilton can waltz his knight into the estate because it’s the ‘Empress’s request’? He even asked you to train his knights! You said you didn’t know what would happen and confidential information might leak out, yet you still allowed it?”
“I am grateful that you are still able to think of the estate’s well-being, but it isn’t possible for Wilton to take away the land that the Emperor himself gave me. It hasn’t even been in my possession for long, but if Wilton truly has designs on this territory, he wouldn’t make a move so soon.”
Lucius carefully retrieved an arrow from his back and examined it, “And I’m worried that there are still monsters in the area, so I would appreciate it if I can have more manpower from him. I would hate for a beast to show up out of nowhere and launch me into another unexpected mission.”
Annoyance was visible in his brows when he said those last words, but they were still uttered skillfully like they were prepared a long time ago.
Well, actually, he did prepare for it.
Lucius that day, lying on his messy bed, stared at the ceiling and thought about what he had to do.
He needed to find a way to get Deatrice back into his palms.
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