When Erik leaned out the window, he saw Emelline gripping the hem of her robe and dashing down the stone path.
“…What in the realms…”
He murmured under his breath.
Was he truly so naïve that he didn’t even know the nature of his own father’s deeds? Or did he simply refuse to know? Either way, ignorance is no less a sin, Erik Orléans.
Her words echoed in his mind.
Ignorance? What was it he supposedly didn’t know?
Erik’s expression hardened. He strode toward the bookshelf and reached for the third shelf. His fingers found a thick envelope he had once hidden there.
Whatever this was—whatever truth it held—he would soon find out. That envelope contained the long-buried secrets of the Duke of Orléans.
Erik had always, for the most part, trusted his father. But as he gripped the documents, a rare tension coiled in his chest.
He opened the envelope.
Click.
Just then, the door to the study creaked open.
It was Lily.
Noticing the documents in Erik’s hand, she sighed in relief.
“You’ve found it, Young Lord.”
“I have.”
Erik slid the papers back into the envelope. Opening them in front of Lily didn’t feel appropriate.
Looking uneasy, Lily began explaining herself.
“I beg your pardon. I made sure no maidservants could ascend to this floor, but Lady Emelline vanished all of a sudden, and the steward began scouring the entire estate…”
“She vanished?” Erik repeated, glancing at the open window.
“Yes. They’re still searching for her. It seems she disappeared the moment the steward was distracted…”
Erik stood silent, deep in thought about Emelline Wedgewood—such a peculiar woman.
At the banquet, she behaved like a clumsy bumpkin from the southern provinces. Then she’d visited the estate and shamelessly demanded 100,000 spirit coins…
She endured Vivian Cavendish’s humiliating remarks with a smile—only to later forge her handwriting.
“What kind of creature is she…?” Erik muttered.
“My apologies, Young Lord.” Lily bowed immediately at his words.
Erik snapped out of his daze when he noticed her stiff posture.
Lily Bellian.
In truth, she was no mere maid, but a knight of the royal sect. Back when Erik was commander of the Imperial Guard, she owed her life to him—thus taking on the secret mission to stay by his side.
Erik shook his head.
“No, I wasn’t speaking to you. Rise.”
“Then… who were you speaking of…?” Lily asked, puzzled.
But Erik gave no reply. He merely gazed at the bookshelf in silence.
He approached it again and, without hesitation, pulled it open. A narrow hidden space revealed itself behind it, shrouded by stone walls on three sides.
Lily furrowed her brow.
“Is this… warded with a spirit-locking formation?”
Erik nodded at her question.
From his robes, he withdrew a small silver pendant. When he inserted the pendant into the recess at the heart of the secret compartment, the bookshelf split with a faint rumble. A hidden chamber was revealed.
Lily looked at him in surprise.
“This is the true vault,” Erik said. “I had heard whispers that the Orléans manor had a hidden archive. But no one knew where the key was hidden… and it turns out—it was this.”
As his eyes dimmed with emotion, Lily glanced at the necklace in his hand, her voice heavy with sympathy.
"Isn’t that the late Duchess’s?"
“That’s right. It belonged to my mother.”
A trace of longing flickered in Erik’s eyes—the kind that only the departed could stir.
Lily spoke gently.
“A bond deep enough to entrust the key to a hidden vault… The Duke must have truly loved your mother.”
It wasn’t a simple thing. Among noble clans where bloodline was paramount, most marriages were forged through strategy. In such arrangements, the pursuit of clan interests often turned husband and wife into political rivals.
The Duke of Orléans and the Duchess were no exception—their union had been a marriage of convenience. Yet, they had been betrothed since the age of six and were said to have loved one another with sincerity from the start.
Erik gripped the silver pendant tightly and muttered,
“Still, what does it matter… My mother was…”
A madwoman.
That’s how Erik saw her.
"I should never have given birth to you! You’re the child of a monster!"
As his mother’s dying words echoed in his memory, Erik’s face hardened.
Child of a monster.
He’d heard it so many times, he’d lost count. She spoke those words more often than she spoke his name.
Maybe that was why.
To keep from becoming what she said he was, Erik had honed himself ceaselessly—tempering his spirit like a cultivator reforging a broken blade.
Even after her death, those cursed words clung to his soul like a malevolent seal.
"Monster’s spawn! You’ll become a demon—just like him!"
Staring out the window, Erik remembered her voice the night before she died—found cold and lifeless in the heart of the manor’s spirit woods.
Those hateful words had become her final will.
While Erik sank deeper into thought, he caught a glimpse of a figure racing toward the forest.
Emelline Wedgwood.
The red-haired lunatic, barreling ahead in her inner robes, hair flying in the wind.
Erik muttered to himself,
“I really… can’t stand crazy women.”
✵
✵
✵
Finding the Duke and Philip along the manor’s spirit-path was easy.
Though the forest was vast and dense, the cluster of servants nearby gave away their location.
Huff… Huff…
By the time I stumbled out onto the path, breath ragged, Philip was clapping enthusiastically for the Duke.
“Your marksmanship is truly remarkable, my lord!”
The moment I heard Philip’s cheerful voice, my legs gave out. I collapsed where I stood.
A servant nearby rushed over.
“Lady Emelline?”
Hearing the servant, both the Duke and Philip turned toward me.
“Emelline!”
The Duke’s expression shifted to concern as he saw me, drenched in sweat.
A man more skilled in performance than any con artist…
I looked up at him. The Duke extended his hand to me—just as Erik had done in the study minutes earlier.
So similar…
Erik Orléans and the Duke were truly alike—raven-dark hair like polished obsidian, skin pale as spirit jade, blood-red lips, and those same chilling crimson eyes.
Only one thing set them apart:
The Duke smiled. Often.
“Why did you run all the way out here, Emelline? I heard you weren’t feeling well.”
His voice was warm and kind.
I stared at his hand for a long moment, then slowly took it.
The Duke grinned.
“If your stomach’s settled, how about joining us for some fresh spirit-bird meat?”
“What do you mean ‘us’? You were the one who brought it down, my lord, hahaha!”
While Philip fawned with oily praise, the Duke’s hunter returned, holding up the bird carcass freshly fallen from the trees.
As I stood staring at the blood-drenched carcass, nausea churned in my core again, forcing me to turn my head away. Sensing my discomfort, the Duke swiftly gestured to the beast keeper to remove it.
“Oh dear, it seems our delicate young miss was frightened. My apologies. You see, I never had a daughter, so I lack… finesse in these matters.”
Delicate young miss…
So apparently, one needs a daughter to know that not everyone finds mangled animal corpses charming?
The Duke chuckled gently, placing a hand on my back with practiced familiarity.
“But from now on, we’ll slowly become family, won’t we?”
That sly tone lingered in my ears.
I glanced sideways at Philip.
At the word
family
, Philip’s face went stiff.
To others, it might have looked like he was upset, his grin from earlier wiped clean—but I knew the truth.
That idiot…
He was moved. Just from hearing the word
family
.
“…Haa.”
I sighed under my breath.
A duke deceiving a scammer, the scammer being dumb enough to fall for it, and me—despite knowing the truth from the start—still unable to stop this from happening…
What kind of absurd comedy was this?
I turned to look back toward the direction of the duke’s manor—the place I’d just fled.
The chance of forging an alliance with that suspicious Erik Orléans was growing dimmer by the breath.
That man was too peculiar, and worse yet, he thought I was just as strange.
I failed to steal the documents, and after today’s debacle, sneaking back in would only draw more suspicion.
At this point, it seemed there was only one path left.
Cause a massive disruption that will obliterate the marriage!
Only six days remained until the wedding.
What could I possibly do that would create chaos so catastrophic it couldn’t be salvaged?
✵
✵
✵
While I failed to come up with a brilliant plan to wreck the marriage, time marched forward mercilessly. Now only
three days
remained.
The seamstresses had worked three sleepless nights to complete the ceremonial robes. Instead of the garishly jeweled dress from my dreams, this one was far more modest—only the hems were adorned with diamond dust.
A different dress from the one I saw in the dream…
Right after the whole Vivian debacle, I’d advised my mother to go for something less extravagant. I suppose I’d tried to change at least one thing about this doomed marriage.
Then again, what good is a dress in a wedding that’s going to fall apart anyway?
I pressed my fingers hard against my throbbing temples.
My mother, either oblivious or deliberately ignoring my mood, was holding the dress up to herself, humming with glee.
“Look here—these are real diamonds, all of them! Worst case, we could flee with just this dress and still come out on top, Philip!”
With cheeks aglow, she turned to my brother. He lit up instantly.
“How many of these do you think we could sell, Mom? Huh? Maybe I could finally launch that new business venture I’ve been planning…”
As he reached for the cluster of diamonds around the chest of the gown, my mother smacked his hand away.
“You rascal, even you wouldn’t—!”
Wait, what?
Color me shocked.
But then, just as I raised an eyebrow, my mother scurried over and locked the bedroom door.
“If we’re going to do this, we need to lock the door!”
…Yeah. That’s more like it.
Chapter 10