63. The Real Antonio

As if in response to his silent question, a breeze swept through, rustling the leaves around them with a soft, whispering sound.

The light shimmering on the lake’s surface was so bright it hurt Klaus’s eyes, and he closed them.

A soft, feather-light touch brushed against his lips, gentle and fleeting.

For a moment, he felt as though time had stopped.

It was a kiss—one so light it could barely be called one, like the touch of a feather floating down, driven by an indescribable pull.

Even that slight contact sent a subtle tension through his fingertips and toes, making him forget everything, lost in the warm sunlight and the sound of the wind.

But the surreal moment was abruptly shattered by a familiar voice.

“Antonio!”

It was Claucet.

Klaus froze, snapping back to reality and realizing what he’d just done. He quickly rose, his face flushed, a rare look of confusion and embarrassment spreading across his face, even to the tips of his ears.

Hearing Claucet’s footsteps drawing near, Klaus stood up quickly.

“Klaus?”

Claucet had come closer and called his name upon spotting him.

Without a word, Klaus turned away, giving only his back to Claucet as he walked off.

Claucet, puzzled by his behavior, noticed Roselia sleeping peacefully and gently shook her awake.

“Antonio! How can you be sleeping when I said let’s go for a picnic?”

“Milady…?”

Roselia opened her eyes drowsily and blinked at Claucet.

She vaguely remembered a very pleasant dream, though the details were already slipping away.

Claucet, looking at her with an expression that suggested he had long given up, glanced in another direction and muttered with a slight pout.

“He didn’t even acknowledge me and just left.”

“Who?”

As Roselia looked at him in confusion, Claucet jerked his chin in that direction.

Following his gaze, she spotted Klaus’s retreating figure.

Did he see her but just leave without waking her?

Roselia shook her head, thinking he must really be annoyed with her.

* * *

After spending the morning picnicking with Claucet, Roselia prepared to head to the Count’s estate in the afternoon as usual.

It was a 30-minute walk, and she enjoyed the exercise, so she typically went on foot.

Just as she stepped out of the mansion, however, a carriage pulled up beside her.

Recognizing it as the Duke’s carriage, she looked on in surprise as Klaus stepped out.

“Your Grace?”

“Allow me to take you.”

His casual offer left Roselia wide-eyed.

Wasn’t he avoiding her?

Despite her bewilderment, Klaus’s steady gaze wordlessly invited her to board, so she quickly climbed into the carriage.

“Thank you.”

And so, without further conversation, they traveled in silence until they arrived at the Count’s estate.

Feeling stifled, Roselia hastily exited the carriage as soon as it stopped, almost like she was making an escape.

But to her surprise, Klaus stepped out of the carriage as well, following her.

Confused by his uncharacteristic behavior, Roselia gave him a respectful bow before turning toward the estate.

In the garden, the old Count Bernas was waiting, an unusual sight.

Roselia’s face lit up as she ran over to him.

“Grandfather! I’m here!”

Klaus, observing her, felt a sharp gaze on him and looked up to find Count Bernas staring at him intently.

Momentarily startled, Klaus bowed his head politely. The Count then gestured him over with a beckoning wave.

Without much choice, Klaus followed Roselia into the Count’s estate, offering the Count a courteous bow.

“Greetings, Count Bernas.”

“Young Duke, have a cup of tea with us.”

Roselia whispered to the Count, nudging him lightly.

“Grandfather, he’s not a young duke; he’s the Duke.”

The Count responded with a subtle “Shh!” silencing her, and Roselia sighed in reluctant acceptance.

Somehow, all three ended up sitting in the Count’s garden, sipping tea, with Roselia scratching her chin awkwardly.

The Count broke the silence by turning to Roselia with a gruff order.

“Antonio, bring some cookies.”

She squinted at him skeptically.

“Grandfather, there aren’t any cookies in the estate.”

The Count cleared his throat, putting on a stern expression.

“Well, then, bring something fit for snacking.”

Grumbling, Roselia got up to fulfill his request.

As soon as she was out of earshot, the Count took a sip of tea and began speaking slowly.

“Are you aware that there are spies from the Grand Ducal family near that child?”

“…”

Klaus stiffened slightly, surprised that the Count had noticed this much.

“There’s no need for concern. We’ve taken all necessary precautions on our end.”

Klaus’s tone was firm and reassuring, yet the Count only stroked his beard, gazing pensively at his teacup.

“Whatever’s going on, it seems troublesome.”

“I intend to personally escort Antonio to and from the Count’s estate from now on.”

The Count, hearing Klaus’s calm response, looked a bit more reassured and nodded quietly.

“Of course, be vigilant. I don’t know what schemes Rubelio is brewing this time, but it seems both you and that child are his targets.”

“Thank you for your concern.”

Count Bernas gazed into the distant sky and sighed, his tone tinged with frustration.

“I’ve kept it under wraps since there’s no solid evidence… but perhaps you could uncover something.”

“What do you mean by that…?” Klaus asked, his curiosity piqued.

The Count, his eyes hardening with a sharp glint, replied, “There’s something I want to show you. Come back at this time tomorrow.”

“Is it something you can’t show me now?”

“It’s currently not in the estate,” the Count replied, looking unusually solemn. Klaus nodded seriously, sensing the gravity of the matter.

“Understood. I’ll bring Antonio over and stop by again tomorrow.”

At that moment, Roselia emerged from the mansion, looking curiously between the two of them.

“What are you two talking about?”

“We were just complaining about how slow you are,” the Count teased, his words mischievous.

Roselia pouted and protested, “What could I do when there’s nothing to snack on here? I was about to head out to buy something.”

The Count dismissed her idea of going out with a gruff, “Just sit down.”

“But didn’t you tell me to get some snacks?”

“Did I now?”

Roselia narrowed her eyes, suspecting the Count was feigning forgetfulness. But the Count sipped his tea with a completely innocent expression, as though nothing had happened.

Watching the two of them, Klaus’s mind wandered to the mysterious item the Count had mentioned. Whatever it was, he would find out tomorrow, so there was no need to rush.

* * *

In the carriage on the way back from the Count’s estate, the atmosphere felt less awkward than it had on the way there, perhaps due to the time they had spent together.

Klaus engaging in conversation with the Count was a surprising sight. For someone who seemed to build walls around himself, this was unexpected.

As Roselia pondered these thoughts, Klaus muttered almost to himself.

“I heard he was suffering from dementia, but he seems relatively lucid.”

“His memory wavers. Today was one of his better days.”

“Did it start after the young count passed away?”

Roselia looked at him, wide-eyed. “You know about that?”

“Did you really think the Duke’s information network wouldn’t know?”

Roselia shrugged at Klaus’s curt response, then shifted the conversation back to the Count.

“He doesn’t remember much about the young count. I don’t see much point in bringing it up with him, so I’m just keeping an eye on him for now.”

“That’s probably for the best.”

With that, a comfortable silence fell over the carriage.

Roselia, tired from the day, leaned her head against the carriage door, gazing out the window.

Klaus watched her for a moment before hesitantly speaking.

“Have you ever thought…”

Roselia turned her head, surprised by the unusual hesitation in Klaus’s voice.

Klaus glanced at her briefly before looking straight ahead, continuing with a calm tone.

“How do you feel about… people of the same gender having affection for each other?”

Roselia was momentarily taken aback by the unexpected question.

“For instance, a man having feelings for another man.”

After a moment’s contemplation, Roselia replied bluntly, “I think it’s possible. Loving someone doesn’t need a reason or conditions.”

For a brief moment, Klaus’s face lit up at her words.

But his expression quickly fell when she added, “Still, it feels like something from another world for me. Oh, but that doesn’t mean I look down on it!”

“I see…”

Klaus turned his head to the window, his shoulders slumping as he stared outside.

Roselia watched him curiously, then dismissed it and resumed looking out the other side of the carriage.

* * *

As dusk began to settle, Roselia was preparing to step outside the mansion, responding to a request from the head butler, Jeffrey.

One of the servants had collapsed from stomach pains, and it seemed they had run out of the necessary medicine. Since the Duke’s personal physician was on leave, Roselia had agreed to make a quick trip to the nearby hospital.

As she exited the mansion, she noticed a figure emerging slowly from a building opposite the estate entrance.

At first, she assumed he was just another drunkard and tried to step aside. But as she moved, she felt his intense gaze fixed on her, making her freeze in her tracks.

Could it be… a spy from the Grand Ducal family?

Her body stiffened, and she was ready to turn back and dash into the Duke’s estate.

But the familiar voice that echoed toward her caused her to halt, as though her feet were glued to the ground.

“Well, well… long time no see.”

Roselia slowly turned, disbelief flooding her face as she looked at the man who was smiling at her—a familiar yet strangely changed face.

“Roselia.”

He raised an arm, missing a hand, waving it as if in greeting. A chill ran down her spine, from the tips of her toes up to her back.

Her lips, as if blocked by something, barely managed to move.

“Antonio…?”