Chapter 12 The Lost Book
“Baby, you can’t run like that!”
Delphine continued to run, unperturbed by Anna’s alarmed cry.
From the window of the quarters, she could see the entrance to the mansion.
Delphine hurried to the window and stood there, watching nervously as the man’s backside receded into the distance.
This is strange, this is strange.
Just now they had exchanged lies.
The papers he’d picked up were the ones she’d checked.
It was the one she’d signed off on a week ago.
“… Something’s not right about this.”
When Delphine realized that he had completely left the mansion, she called the maids in a panic.
But the result was the same.
All of those stationed in the foyer and hallways said they hadn’t seen him.
The President’s office is on the third floor of the mansion.
There is no way to get to the third floor except through the entrance hall and the central staircase.
Could her faithful maids be lying to her?
She doubted it for a moment, but it was unlikely.
The other people working in the foyer had all looked like they’d seen a ghost when he came down from the third floor.
“Surely you’re not up at the crack of dawn again today, master?”
And the book? What was that reaction again?
Chewing her lip, Delphine hastily called for her faithful butler.
“Wilson.”
“Yes, My Lady. You asked for me.”
“I’m sure there was a book in our library called ‘Ancient Demonic Traces and Exorcism Explored’. Will you find it for me?”
“Yes, My Lady.”
Wilson said he had worked at Pembroke Manor since her father’s generation.
Delphine hesitated for a moment, then asked again.
“And… there was a secret passage in this mansion that allowed you to get to the third-floor hallway without going through the front door?”
“Not that I know of.”
Wilson shook his head emphatically.
Delphine wrapped her arms around herself, hugging herself against the creepy, odd feeling that had come over her.
It’s weird, so weird.
It was as if she had been suddenly thrown into a marionette puppet show, controlled by someone else.
It felt like invisible threads were being pulled behind their backs.
‘No, perhaps it is I who am being manipulated?’
Delphine looked down at the garden of swaying irises with a white face.
***
The book never came out.
The book on demons was one of the country’s banned texts, and it was not readily available.
It was a wonder it was here in this peaceful Pembroke manor in the first place, Delphine remembered.
So was the journal of her father’s rebellion.
She had searched the manor thoroughly over the course of several days, but it was not there.
There was nothing left for her to do in the mansion anymore.
“Do you know how heartbroken this old nanny was? Oh, God. Searching the house!”
Her timid nanny, Anna, had been muttering to herself for days, her hand over her heart.
“It’s a good thing the new master is so benevolent, or I’d have been in so much trouble before!”
“Hmm. Anna’s right, I would have been in trouble, too…”
Sitting in the study, Delphine muttered lowly, her hand on her chin.
Though she’d been unsuccessful in her search for clues, there was one thing this incident had made clear.
The man has no intention of killing her.
Glare at him, suspect him. Sneaking into his office.
… So, how far is she willing to put up with herself?
“Baby, do you hear me? Always be careful, always be quiet…”
Delphine’s emerald eyes shone silently as she listened to the boisterous nanny.
She’ll have to test the limits of his patience, then.
***
The Guard Barracks, north of District 3.
After a brief debriefing, Walter, the deputy captain of the Guard, asked cautiously.
“Are you sure you’re not pushing yourself too hard?”
It was the tenth day.
His superiors had been on a rampage that seemed to be drying up the rebel seed in District 3.
“…”
Walter glanced at Lord Pride, who remained silent as usual, and added this.
“Is this all because of his Majesty’s play?”
There was a reason he asked.
In the Emperor’s eyes, there was no way he could look favorably on a captain of the guard who dared to take the daughter of a traitor against his orders.
The Emperor, who wore the captain like a sword protecting him, banned him from the palace, saying, ‘I don’t want to see him for a while.’
Rumors spread through the capital that the beautiful traitor’s mistress had been ordered to be confined to her mansion.
But Pride only smiled a thin smile of disdain and disbelief.
The Emperor was always on edge, wondering if he would lose his power, or if an assassin would come for him.
It was not the old coward that Pride feared.
It was his own mansion that frightened the old coward.
Or, more precisely, the woman who resides in his mansion.
His wife.
Pride, his wife.
His thoughts raced towards her before he had time to take the reins.
Red hair that rippled in ecstasy and emerald eyes that often seemed to dazzle him more than the sun itself.
Whenever he looked into those eyes and saw a spark in them that mirrored his own soul, he always thought…
Oh no.
“I wonder if this is… why you were in such a hurry to get married.”
Pride swore harshly.
Walter, still in the barracks, flinched for a moment.
Even if he had been a knight and behaved badly on the battlefield, he was a nobleman’s son.
Walter cautiously called out the sergeant’s name, a name he had never heard in his life.
“Lord… Pride?”
But Pride’s attention was elsewhere.
This was a crisis he hadn’t expected.
He couldn’t believe he could barely control his lust for color.
His patience, which had crumbled like a sandcastle from the moment he saw her in her wedding dress on their wedding day, was now barely intact.
Was this because the fruit of so long a patience was before his eyes, or because…
Pride heaved his massive body from his seat as if to break the thought.
“… is marching out.”
“Yes, but, My Lord. The soldiers are exhausted from back-to-back operations. They need to rest for a night or so…”
“Useless bastards.”
Pride cursed, and then strode out the barracks door with his usual brusque demeanor.
“I’m going alone, don’t follow me.”
Alone, Walter sighed in defeat.
Ten days of inhuman scheduling in the doldrums had made him useless.
He muttered in disbelief.
“… Why have you become more sensitive since you got married?”
It was only after the sergeant left the barracks that he relaxed, his whole body tense and rigid.
It had been a year since he had served the man who had become an imperial hero as his Lord.
And he still couldn’t get used to the feeling of power.
He’d never felt like he lacked spunk in his life, but strangely, facing this hero made him feel like a small animal in the presence of a beast.
It’s as if he is facing something he shouldn’t be facing.
He shuddered for a moment as he remembered the fierce look in his eyes as he cut down his enemies.
What could have touched the ice-cold man’s heart?
It was strange to Walter to see his Lord, who had always acted as if he had no heart, show emotion.
He pondered for a moment, then summarised his thoughts with the simplicity of a knight.
He’s married to a very beautiful woman, but the honeymoon isn’t going as well as he’d hoped.
Then he shuffled the papers on his Lord desk and tidied them up.
Unaware that there was only one document in between, the one he had approved a week earlier.
Late dawn.
Pride muttered low to himself as he strode to his quarters.
He’s not sleeping tonight.
His senses were as sensitive as any, and he could tell from beyond the door.
Her breathing was different from when she was asleep.
Irregular, somewhat strained…
At the gates, Pride paused for a moment, pondering.
Should he go back to the palace or the barracks?
His patience was almost at its limit, and he knew it best.
Would he be able to resist the overwhelming urge to see her lying alone in bed in this dark dawn?
His muscular chest heaved upwards as he took a deep breath.
His ice-blue eyes, which had been cool and steady, became cloudy.
His thoughts did not continue there.
With a hesitant motion, he pushed open the door to the stateroom, somewhat roughly.
It was not a decision he made because he was confident he could resist his instincts.
Rather, he now had no patience left to take the first step away from this sweet temptation.
And so it was.
He deliberately let himself in, and she slowly rose from her bed, breathing irregularly.
Through the patternless curtains, the moonlight illuminated the candleless room.
On the massive bed, tailored to his size, his saint stared at him, her red hair hanging down.
Her transparent skin seemed to glow slightly in the moonlight.
Feeling his heart thudding in his chest, Pride sucked in a sharp intake of breath.
But she immediately realized her mistake.
Her dreadlocks filled the room, numbing his brain.
“You’re late home again today. You must be very busy these days.”
The woman, who could not possibly know his situation, asked casually.
