Chapter 197: Chapter 197
Desisting the distasteful sensation of placing his hand on the Claye Theuros Door, Paul gave a chilling gaze to the guarding man at its hidden side from a distance.
Knowing the shade it would take at his touch, Paul wished to avoid the unique treat of the ancient decoration.
A tiny and misty hue that mirrored his figure, devoid of colour and clear lines... It was surely not a pleasant sight to see when its space was so wide.
—... Paulos... Your seal... It makes me recall your uncle’s. That’s... truly a wonderful coincidence. —
The words of his Father were recalled.
’An uncle I have not met... Surely it’s wonderful to share it with a stranger.’
The door had been opened by the time he arrived before it and entering the tall tower, he glanced insipidly at the abandoned place.
He commenced his way down, noticing the scholar mumblings, who certainly lost in his own thoughts, did not rise from his chair at his obvious arrival.
Paul had not planned on surprising him. Yet...
"... Marianne..... deathly poniard..."
The low utterance of her dreamy name was heard by his ears.
"... I hope she’s recovered..."
His way was smoothly made to stand behind him. Hence, their tense, yet fortunately short exchange began.
Paul knew that part of the truth would be kept from him, however, some truth would still be told.
— She fell ill on the second day. —
Like an echo, the unsightly scholar’s words were heard. The more was said the more his rage escalated.
Bringing his hand to crack as it clenched strongly to restrain the outburst as an innocent sheet was crumbled unrecognised.
Eventually, the unheard inquiry he made on the cause threw him into a short fit of anger, making his rage explode by pushing the upsetting desk filled with piles of books and sheets.
— Stress. —
A sudden pause to his inward chaos was placed by the answer. And so, needing confirmation, he repeated after gaining some lost composure.
"Stress?"
"Yes."
Her image clouded his eyes bringing him peace as he heard it again.
’... Stress...’
"... I see... I see..."
’Marianne..... Are you also having a hard time....?’
".. Haha... My Sister..." — ’My beloved Sister..... Oh, Marianne..... So you also miss me this vexingly... This harmful and strongly...’
No better satisfaction could have been given to him on this day.
And so, he retired from the building, refreshed, for he had crafted a false truth from his learnings that brought peace to his unstable mood.
His day would surely continue. Yet, this time, entirely hopeful to reach the end of it.
Tonight he would dance joyously hugging one of her delicate dresses in preparation for their fateful meeting at the Summer Royal Ball.
He was impatient for the darkest of the night’s arrival and excited to think of the words they would tell to each other once their steps moved in synchrony to an awaited piece.
’... Marianne..... We will meet soon, dear sister... Do not fret, lovely goddess of mine.....’
"I will hold onto you, Marianne... This time..."
’Even if I have to rip you apart as I grab you... lovely sister...’
His work was done as scheduled. Nevertheless, something else was yet to be lived before the night arrived.
*******
Peaceful days had been lived by the Duchess.
Days filled with leisure and luxuries as she accustomed.
Days that every other day would be spiced up by the arrival of her cherished daughter’s letters informing her of the events happening at the Palace.
She would smirk at the news and pity her daughter for having to endure the distasteful company of the other child she had given birth to, attempting to ensure more opportunities with her goal, the Crown Prince.
Short yet delightful to read, the letters conveyed the girl’s care in keeping her Mother informed of what she couldn’t see for herself while staying at their manor.
Besides enjoying the silence, she would answer consistently to her handwriting, roam the halls and instructs the servants with unimportant matters, mere details, to ensure they knew she was the wife of this Household’s Head, flaunting her authority at them for it was a pitiful yet enjoyable act to be done in front of the powerless.
Sporadically, Elenaide would cross paths with her firstborn, dryly greeting him and feigning interest in his days taking care of the Duchy’s matters the Duke had left him to manage.
Today was one of those days.
Therefore, their paths crossed as each strolled through the wide Main Hall of their Castle, just in time to meet him as he made his way back to his quarters; as his work had been done for the day.
"Paul. How has my son’s day been? Are you retiring this early?"
"... Mother... Indeed, I have fortunately finished for today." — Lightly, his features softened, decided to please the woman before she asked for a more lively response and make the useless conversation end faster.
"... Leaving your office early must have granted new energy to inhabit your demeanour... A rare sight as a spontaneous grin in your expression ought to bring my attention."
"... Mother has requested previously to grant her a smile. As your son, I only wished to please you this time, Duchess."
"..." — A smirk invaded her visage as her thin brow lifted in satisfaction at the unexpected thoughtfulness of her usually calculating offspring. — "If it is so, I am glad to witness it..... At least two of you can bring delight to this Mother of yours with a capable existence."
"..."
"Hm?... Have you not heard, Paul? That creature made a spectacle of her vain presence at the Royal Palace after only spending one night as a guest. As expected, even if she earns that unique Title... No shame can be lifted from my shoulders at how unsightly a behaviour and appearance she has. Hah. Could you believe she even meets the Crown Prince every day only for that Title? He must be sickened by that threadbare presence she unveils as our Family’s disgrace."
Her steps had brought her to stand before him.
Acting unconcerned as her venom was spouted to the wrong ears, Elenaide’s hand decided to act like the mother she was. Reaching for his collar frills she organised them uselessly to enhance their already pompous arrangement on his chest. However, instead as common her babbling was not ignored.
"..... Duchess." — A silence that usually should have continued suddenly called for her coldly.
"? What is it?"
"Your hand... Say another word... And it will not be able to wear that horrendous jewellery again."
"!? How dare you speak to–!?"
"My good mood is gone thanks to you... ’Mother’..."
A darkness she had been lucky to not realize was showing in her child’s eyes. Greatly similar to an upset Duke’s... yet hiding a threat her husband would never let out towards a member of his family. Stammering, Elenaide took a step back, aware that something unseen was occurring.
"I’ve avoided saying anything to your and Theressa’s disgusting babbling for a protracted time... As it’s bothersome dealing with... Your innate imbecility."
"Wha–!? Ah!"
Her hand wished to travel and reach his cheek out of the blunt offence the man was spouting. However, her wrist was held easily before succeeding. And, instead... The scorching pain was felt on her own skin.
"Don’t dare... Again... you’re acting stupid, ’Mother’...."
A numbing shiver, continuous and frightening, kept travelling the powerless Duchess once his gaze was met after a struggling attempt to free herself.
"Don’t ever talk about this with me again. Fortunately, the Duke is not here, so I can spell this clearly to you... Even with your duncery, you understand, right?"
... Clench...
"!! Paul!"
"Answer me. Something you do know how to perform is chatter. Now. Did you understand?"
"!!!!..... Khh... Alright! Let go, Paul! You’re hurting your Mother!! Ah!"
Throwing her skinny arm away with contempt, Paul watched her stammer trying to regain lost balance.
"... Then act like one. A duchess like you... Where have you seen such a pathetic one?"
"..."
Elenaide could not believe what her eyes and ears were witnessing. A humiliation like this one... By her own blood...
"... Paul... I’m your Mother–"
"Indeed. My greatest disgrace. Having a brainless mother.....Sigh. Now, if you’ll excuse me. Oh." — Gesturing to take his leave, Paul halted his steps before continuing his path. — "That’s right. You lack awareness so I’ll take the trouble to say this too..."
Her eyes returned from her hurting wrist to look at him again with a flinch at his voice.
"Don’t go around whining about this. Stay shut for once, act sane... And come see me tomorrow."
"!!? Wh– why??"
"If you’re going to talk then tell me everything that daughter of yours has been secretly telling you. I want to know what you have been leisurely hiding from me as if it’s natural. Not now though. I’m sickened for how long I’ve been losing time with you."
His last sentence was said as his steps resumed.
Not caring to even look at the distasteful woman that was his Mother, Paul turned his back on her without difficulty. Maybe, if not because his mind was concerned with other matters, he could have even walked away with delight.
Plainly, the man to who she had given birth so proudly, was dryly indifferent to her current state and uninterested in the impact his words could have done on his Mother.
— She even meets the Crown Prince every day —
The heavy echo of her annoying babbler was all his psyche was focused on... Even ignoring the twisting pain of his clenching fists, the enraged Young Lord now desired to reach the body of his goddess... Not only because of longing... But to demonstrate his displeasure at the echoing truth the Duchess ignorantly told him.