Please Be Patient, Grand Duke - Chapter 84

“I once respected you, but now I’m just embarrassed for you.”

Claude’s footsteps rang through the greenhouse. Amidst the servants clearing the dishes, Gliad sat alone at the table with his eyes closed.

“Grand Duke, I love my daughter.”

He was baffled at how the marquis would dare to use the word love. “Is that why you let everything happen?” asked Claude.

“If I hadn’t, my wife would have kept on hurting Canillia, and one day she would have succeeded. I… I’m afraid of what she will do next.” The marquis’s hand trembled at the thought, but Claude only felt a fresh wave of how shameless he was.

“So you’re going to send her away to Geore out of fear, not love?”

“It’s for her own good. I have no other way,” said Gliad, slowly opening his eyes. “Same goes for the banquet today. If I hadn’t ended it, something would have definitely gone wrong.”

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” spat Claude.

At the coldness of his words, Gliad lowered his head in response. But just what was Ian Sergio thinking? Although he knew Canillia was his, holding hands with the marquis was nothing but provocation and defiance. An uncontrollable rush of anger made Claude shake. Hee had no intention of sending Lia away to Geore.

It was strange in the first place tha Ian Sergio was called here in the first place. He expected something like this to happen after he was aware of the fact that Ian proposed to Canillia, that he might be the last choice Anastasia had in taking care of Canillia.

But something was off. As someone who regarded honor the same as her own life, Anastasia was quiet after being humiliated in front of the nobles. Why was that?

Why…

“Grand Duke!”

Claude stopped his steps at Rosina’s yelling. White as a sheet, Kieran appeared and hurriedly opened the door to the servants’ passageway and ran inside without a single look back.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Marilyn Shelby is in this manor,” said Rosina.

“Marilyn? What are you talking about?”

“I saw her through the second story window. She gave a cup of tea to Canillia’s driver.”

Rosina told Claude everything she saw. Soon, a loud scream could be heard and the door that Kieran had just stepped into opened.

“Let go!”

Kieran had Marilyn by the arms—the same Marilyn Shelby who vanished in Louvre three years ago.

Yelling at the top of her lungs, Marilyn caught sight of Rosina, and next to her, Claude. She was suddenly speechless. She flushed with shame and humiliation. Claude stared at her and asked, “What happened?”

“She said that there was nothing in the tea. Then why are you here? Who brought you here, Shelby?!”

Marilyn broke free of Kieran’s grasp.

“I’ve done nothing wrong! Is there a problem with being a maid under a noble family? I only sought to make something of myself, and the marchioness brought me here. Is there a reason that you think there’s another reason I’m here?”

“A reason, you say. Maybe it’s along the same lines as putting your father up for death.”

Claude’s words brought a violent rush of memories and Marilyn could only glare at him. She didn’t want him to see this side of her. Three years ago, she really did not know what conspiracies and schemes were lurking in the Shelby family. All she did was love Claude, and she had no other crime than believing in her parents’ innocence. However, she was kicked out because of him, and fell to the bottom. He didn’t believe her, and did not forgive her father. Despite this, shining so brightly in front of her, she could neither hate nor despise him.

“Please believe me. My father was sentenced to death for poisoning the former duke. Do you think I’m capable of doing the same thing?” Marilyn yelled with tears in her eyes. Surprisingly, the expression on her face showed nothing but the truth.

When Kieran was about to shout a rebuttal, Claude asked, “Then why did you give out tea?”

“It was the order of my master. And… although I’m deeply grateful, I do not deserve her benevolence. I… refused to follow her orders.” As tears fell from her eyes, Marilyn pulled out a small bottle from her pocket and held it out. It was a glass bottle in its sealed state. “It’s a sedative, not poison. My master told me to put a little, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to be a murderer.”

Even if she had to crawl on the ground, she refused to let it get her down.

Marilyn was the same as before. She was cynical, despised others, and had a self-righteous attitude, but her pride as an aristocrat was extraordinary.

Staring at the sedative in her hand, Claude turned to leave.

“Grand Duke!”

“Claude!”

Claude ran outside and climbed into the driver’s seat as if possessed. Then, he saw Ian’s vehicle leaving the manor in the distance.

Ian Sergio had been quiet throughout the meal despite what had happened. Claude now knew what had made Ian act so aloof. Ian was confident that Canillia would choose him.

And he probably studied everything that was unfolding, with that beastly intuition of his. When Claude was focused on Canillia, Ian must have found something else.

“Damn it!”

***

Canillia looked down at her clenched hands. She could see the gloves that were made out of expensive fabric. I don’t need anything like this…

No matter how much she had dressed up, she was Canillia from Louvre, the illegitimate child of the marquis. In addition, she was nothing but a chess piece in a game. A game not like the one with Claude, but a real one where the pawn was sacrificed without a trace of remorse.

And a pawn was nothing but a pawn. It could never be a queen.

I thought I could be happy if time passed… I was a fool.

The same was true with her. She thought if she grew up, she could be happy, that happiness was a thing that came to everyone naturally. She didn’t know that he would try to push her away with such light, vulgar, and even childish moves. This reminded her of when she took the entrance exam for the academy and was disappointed at the reality that was so different from everything she knew.

How laughable they all were.

“Can a woman get her own last name?”

Wondering if Canillia was speaking to him, Matisse the driver glanced at the rearview mirror. Canillia nodded and repeated her question.

“It depends, but you probably can’t go through the legal procedures,” he replied.

“And if you get married?” asked Canillia.

“You get your husband’s last name,” answered Matisse.

“So that’s a no.”

Puzzled, Matisse resumed driving.

Through the car window that ran along Leon River, she could see Louvre. The flags of the guards and the vehicles of the Metropolitan Police Department were placed here and there. Did something horrible occur? Or maybe, something had happened to her mother? Lia pushed down the swell of tears that threatened to surface by thinking of her.

“I should have cut off her leg… I should have had her throat cut. When she had you in her, we should have cut up that stomach!”

The irrational explosion from Anastasia made way to everything that Canillia wanted to know. Her mother’s leg was the work of the marchioness.

Lia wanted to beg the driver to take her back to Louvre. That day, she hoped that her mother’s smile she saw in Dr. Carol’s hiding place would be directed toward her. For once, she wanted to be held in arms that were just for her. She missed her. Lia buried her face in her hands and sobbed. She failed to hold back the tears.

The car slowed. Matisse didn’t know what to do as she continued to weep.

“My lady, are you alright? Are you hurt, or…”

“No, I’m fine.”

Lia replied without raising her head.

Matisse looked around for a place to stop the car, wanting to calm her down. It was when he found a cafe with wide awnings and was driving toward it. He saw a car running toward them at full speed on the opposite road where the lanes were tangled.

People were screaming and backing away. Even so, the car ran straight for the two without a care in the world.

Matisse realized the seriousness of the situation.

“M-My lady!”

It was the moment when Matisse, startled, sounded the horn and hurriedly turned the steering wheel. Canilia’s body tilted sideways as she raised her head, then floated up. Then, a huge shock hit them both.

***

A roar of fire.

When she opened her eyes with difficulty, someone was pulling her arms, shouting instinctively. Was she bleeding? The world was nothing but red. Black smoke and someone’s howls, screams, and voices echoed in her ears like noises in the distance.

“Canillia!”

Blinking slowly, she stretched out her hand, and Claude shouted, holding it tightly. He was also bleeding. Why? She was the one hurt, so why was he bleeding? Just when she wondered if her heavy body was being moved, a white stretcher took her.

Lia blankly glanced at the firefighters, the people who were weeping, and the four half-destroyed cars. Four cars. Another person who had been taken out of the car in the distance was being put on a stretcher.

Red uniform and silver hair. The man, who had been breathing heavily as if in pain, turned his head. Ian let out a grin of relief when their eyes met.

So that’s what had happened.

A single drop of tear fell from her eyes at the realization.

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