FWTR Chapter 38

Chapter 38: The Margrave of Luenbein

Most of the southern nobles attended Count Madel’s funeral.

“How great must your sorrow be? May the Count find eternal rest in the embrace of God.”

“…Thank you for coming.”

Lucas responded with composed politeness to the mourners who had come to pay their respects.

Estelle, standing beside him, thought he was remarkable.

Her eyes were swollen red from crying too much, and the tiny blood vessels had burst. But Lucas—he remained perfectly composed.

‘…Just like that time. He looks completely fine.’

Even at the moment when Count Madel took his last breath, Lucas had calmly held her back, trying to console her.

As his heir, he had always maintained constant connections and had a close relationship with their grandfather.

So how could he be so unaffected?

‘At my own funeral, too, he didn’t even shed a tear. He just looked like he wanted it to end quickly.’

If she could, she would trade her emotions for his unshaken demeanor.

She knew that continuing to cry would only make Count Madel’s heart uneasy, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop.

“I loved you… and I wanted to love you even more.”

It felt as though she had hastened Count Madel’s death.

If she had called the doctor earlier—
If she had refused his request to paint a picture and let him rest instead—
Maybe he wouldn’t have passed away.

‘Why…? It’s not even winter yet. I should have done something. I shouldn’t have been so reassured just because there was still time.’

As the funeral proceeded, in front of all the gathered nobles, the lawyer began to read the Count’s will.

“The title of Count of Madel shall be inherited by my grandson, Lucas Winchester, along with—”

She couldn’t focus. She already knew what was written, so she only half-listened.

“Lastly, the title of Margrave of Luenbien and all associated rights shall be inherited by my granddaughter, Estelle Winchester.”

All eyes turned toward Estelle.

“Surely, we didn’t mishear that? The Margraviate of Luenbien… is being given to Lady Estelle?”

“The wealth of Luenbien is comparable to Madel’s, if not greater. And with the honor of a Margrave… its status is even higher.”

Estelle couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

The will had changed.

Before, both the Madel Countship and Luenbien Margraviate had been left to Lucas.

She glanced at the lawyer, wondering if the will had been tampered with. But there was no reason for that, and the lawyer had nothing to gain.

‘That’s right. That time at the dining hall… I remember hearing that the lawyer had come, and Grandfather left urgently, as if he had something important to handle…’

Could it be… that was when he changed his will?

‘But why? Even though I came back to see him, why did he suddenly rewrite it?’

Her head swam with confusion, and standing upright felt exhausting.

“Lucas. I need to step out for some air.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“…I want to be alone.”

Avoiding the mourners, Estelle went out into the garden and sat on a bench.

‘Even so, making me the Margrave of Luenbien…’

The Margraves of Luenbien had always been treated as Marquises.

They had broad autonomous authority and military power, placing their status far above that of other noble houses.

‘Being a Winchester noblewoman already gives me a high rank, but all the real power lies with the Duke. However, the wealth and lands of Luenbien… those are entirely mine.’

At last, she understood Count Madel’s intentions.

‘So that’s why he left Luenbien to me…’

With Luenbien, she could achieve independence without relying on Duke Winchester.

And if she brought it as a dowry upon marriage, her husband would have no choice but to treat her with respect.

He had left her Luenbien because he was thinking about her freedom and her future marriage.

“Estelle.”

A shadow fell over her.

At first, she thought it was Lucas. But the voice was deeper, more solemn.

“…Your Highness Michael?”

She looked up to see him, dressed in a black military uniform, holding a single white lily.

“Why… are you here, Your Highness?”

Even as she asked, she realized the answer.

She had seen him on the train—he had been in the south.

Of course, he would have heard of Count Madel’s passing.

“Pain is something that, even if you hold it in for now, will eventually fester and burst out in a far worse way. So, it’s better to let it out and grieve properly.”

“I’ve already cried. I don’t even have any tears left. I’m fine. I stayed with my grandfather until the very end. He said the words I had longed to hear.”

I’m fine. Truly, I am.

‘Then why…’

‘Why do I feel so at ease when I see you?’

A cool breeze swept through.

Michael’s hair fluttered—so did Estelle’s.

“Sometimes, the wind blows so strongly that it makes your eyes sting… and that can bring tears, too.”

“…Yes. My eyes sting so much.”

Since the tears were caused by the wind, it should be fine to let them fall.

“I thought that as long as I saw his face one last time before he passed, I wouldn’t have any regrets. But… I was wrong.”

“…Would you like me to hold you?”

Estelle felt embarrassed looking at him as he reached out to her.

Even though they were engaged to be married, he was still Olivia’s lover. The way he acted so freely with her made her uneasy.

“Your Highness… you already have a lover. Even if we are to marry, this isn’t right.”

She understood that he simply wanted to comfort her, unable to ignore the sorrow of his future wife.

But she didn’t want to cross that line.

Because when you start wanting something, the moment you have to let it go later… the emptiness hits you twice as hard.

“…What lover are you talking about?”

Michael scoffed in disbelief.

“I saw it. You were on the train with Lady Olivia Aslan.”

“I know. We ran into each other before I boarded, remember? That’s also how I heard the news and came to Madel Manor.”

Michael replied calmly, as if he had no idea what the problem was.

“I even heard you call her by a pet name. I should have realized when you sent the masquerade invitation under her name…”

“Wait a moment, Estelle.”

Michael cut her off.

“You think Olivia is my lover?”

“There’s no need to deny it. You’ll divorce me eventually anyway, and like I said before, I won’t interfere.”

Of course, imagining him immediately remarrying Olivia after their divorce wasn’t exactly pleasant.

“Olivia is like a younger sister to me. I’ve known her since she was crawling on the floor.”

“Then… the pet name?”

“She didn’t want to call me ‘Your Highness’ in public, so I let her use whatever name she wanted. Not that I cared much—I told her to just call me by my name.”

“…Oh.”

Relief washed over her upon realizing Olivia wasn’t special to him.

But at the same time, embarrassment consumed her.

“I’m really sorry, but… could you leave now? I’ll apologize properly another time. Please.”

Right now, she didn’t even have the courage to face him.

“If you call me ‘El,’ I’ll go.”

“Do you always have to tease me…?”

He covered his mouth, chuckling like a mischievous child.

“I’m not teasing. I just… want to hear it.”

She had a feeling he wouldn’t leave unless she gave in.

He was already watching her lips closely, waiting for her to speak.

“…El.”

“Too quiet. I couldn’t hear you.”

“El. There, happy now?”

Silence.

She had expected him to smile, to tease her further.

But Michael’s eyes were deep, shadowed—like a man drowning in his own thoughts.

‘Why is he looking at me like that? Did I say something wrong? I only called him what he wanted…’

He didn’t seem upset.

If anything… he looked sad.

Like he was on the verge of breaking.

‘What is he thinking?’

“Estelle.”

Michael placed the white lily he had been holding beside the bench.

“Your Highness…?”

Kneeling down, he took her hand in his.

As his lips brushed against the back of her hand, a brief, electric sensation ran through her.

“This is as far as my greed will go. I won’t take any more.”

Then, rising slowly, he leaned in and whispered softly in her ear.

—

“Estelle!”

A voice called from the distance.

Lucas came running toward her.

‘Did something happen inside?’

Lucas grabbed Estelle’s hand and pulled her behind him protectively, his gaze filled with suspicion.

Michael simply brushed his hair back and watched Lucas in silence.

“Are you after Luenbien? The inheritance was barely finalized, and yet here you are, clinging to her.”

Lucas ignored all etiquette expected when addressing a member of the royal family. His hostility was plain.

“I didn’t realize the second son of the Winchester Dukedom was more dog than man.”

“What did you just say—?!”

“Shall I throw a bone for you?”

Michael smiled, but the air around him had turned chillingly cold.

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