Chapter 30
Unlike the journey out, the return trip was quiet—tense, even.
The air inside the carriage was heavy with awkward silence.
Tericia felt she should say something, anything—but she couldn’t think of a single word to break the ice.
Even when they’d stopped overnight at an inn, Rashid had reserved two separate rooms, allowing her space to rest on her own.
From the moment they arrived at the inn to the moment they left the next morning, she hadn’t seen his face.
But sure enough, at exactly the right hour, Rashid was there waiting to escort her once again—calm, polite, and composed as ever.
During the journey back, he said very little. Now and then, Tericia could feel his gaze on her. And when she turned to meet it, he was looking at her with an expression she couldn’t read.
That look made it hard to breathe. Like it was wrapping around her and holding her still.
The carriage ride continued in a thick, silent fog. And before she knew it, they had arrived back at the duchy—a full day earlier than planned.
＊＊＊
“You came back a day early. That’s actually perfect.”
As soon as Rashid entered the study, Adler was right behind him.
“What’s going on?” Rashid asked.
“Count Clu has requested a private meeting.”
The name alone made Rashid’s gaze sharpen.
“Count Clu?”
“Yes.”
“What could dear Uncle possibly want with his young nephew?” Rashid scoffed, voice dripping with sarcasm as he began loosening his tie. “What could he possibly have to say to this ‘child’?”
Adler didn’t react, only added flatly, “It seems he thinks he’s finished gathering support.”
“Our uncle’s been tucked away in the countryside so long he must’ve forgotten how dangerous the capital nobility can be.”
“Does he still think of himself as the rightful heir to House Hespelt?”
“So now he wants to take it back?” Rashid’s quiet laugh was full of disdain.
“I must’ve treated him far too well. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be feeling this bold.”
Even sitting casually on the edge of his desk, Rashid’s presence was imposing. More than imposing—it was suffocating.
Adler observed in silence, inwardly clucking his tongue.
He really miscalculated.
It was clear that Count Clu still believed Rashid was the same boy from years ago.
That had to be the reason—otherwise a man like him, known for being sly and calculating, would never make the mistake of underestimating Rashid Hespelt.
But something had changed.
Rashid’s aura had become more dangerous—more feral.
Even Adler, who had long worked by his side, found himself unconsciously stepping a half-step back.
He had been trying to keep it hidden, but his true nature was starting to show.
And it would only grow stronger from here.
Those who tried to oppose him would be in for a painful awakening.
No one will be able to touch him soon.
Whether that was a good thing or something to fear… Adler wasn’t sure. Maybe it was both.
It worked in his favor, certainly. But for Rashid’s enemies?
It would be devastating.
“If he wants a private audience, let’s give it to him. Set it up.”
“Understood.”
As Adler turned to leave, he asked casually, “Was the trip enjoyable?”
“…It was.”
Rashid answered after a slight pause, a faint, almost unconscious smile touching his lips.
There was a calmness in him now. A kind of certainty, as if something within him had settled.
Looks like Lady Tericia’s in for some trouble, Adler thought, holding back a wry grin.
He bowed lightly and exited the study, already making a mental note to find Heinz, the attendant who had quietly followed for security during the trip.
After Adler left, silence settled over the study.
“Siblings, huh…” Rashid muttered in a voice much lower than usual—dry, quiet, and cold.
“That kind of empty title breaks easier than you’d think, Tericia.”
If all he’d ever wanted was to stay in the lines of that label, he never would’ve reached for her to begin with. He never would’ve even thought about making her his.
He had approached her so carefully—bit by bit—so she could get used to him, so that his presence beside her would feel natural, inevitable.
But now… letting her go wasn’t an option. Not when she already had his heart.
With a swift, frustrated tug, Rashid pulled the tie from around his neck and tossed it aside.
“You think you can run from me?”
A low laugh escaped him, his expression curving into a smile that looked far more like a predator’s than a man’s.
The atmosphere had changed—subtly, but unmistakably.
At least, Tericia could feel it.
Outwardly, nothing seemed amiss. Both she and Rashid were busy with their own schedules, which naturally reduced the time they spent together.
“He said to go ahead and eat first, my lady.”
“…Did he?” Tericia replied, trying to sound casual.
They’d always shared breakfast, at the very least. But lately, even that routine had started to fall apart.
She took a spoonful of soup but soon set the spoon down again. She had no appetite.
“My lady, if you’re not going to eat…”
Trying her best to coax her into eating, Mandy placed a delicate cream pudding in front of her. Tericia gave a faint smile.
“I just don’t have an appetite. Could you prepare some light refreshments and bring them to my office later?”
“Of course.”
But Mandy looked deeply concerned. Her lady’s complexion had been worsening. And it wasn’t as if Tericia had been overly busy—certainly not enough to affect her health like this.
There could only be one cause.
Mandy made up her mind.
‘I need to speak to the young lord.’
“She hasn’t been eating?”
“No, Lord Rashid,” Mandy answered politely.
She had come to see him the moment Tericia and Sarah had left the estate on a short outing.
She’d been prepared to wait as long as it took to see him, but surprisingly, Rashid had made time for her right away.
“She’s been refusing most meals. Just a bit of soup and tea here and there. That’s all.”
It wasn’t technically false—she wasn’t not eating. But the amount she was eating… it was pitiful.
“How long has it been?”
“Almost a week now.”
A week. That meant ever since they returned to the duchy.
“…And you’re telling me this just now?”
“Well… you’ve been busy,” Mandy replied with a tone that—while polite—held just the barest trace of reproach.
From anyone else, that could’ve earned a reprimand. But Rashid didn’t mind Mandy’s bluntness. If anything, he respected it. She was loyal to Tericia above all else.
“What time does she usually wake?”
“Before seven, usually.”
Earlier than most noble ladies, who preferred to rise closer to midday.
“From tomorrow onward, I’ll take breakfast with her again. You’re dismissed.”
“Yes, my lord! I’ll have everything ready early.”
Mandy brightened at once.
Rashid opened his mouth again to ask something else—
“She’s currently…?”
But before he could finish, a sharp knock interrupted him—and Adler entered the study without waiting to be invited.
He glanced briefly at Mandy, then stepped closer to Rashid and spoke in a quiet tone.
“Lady Tericia is in the reception room with Count Clu.”
“…Tericia?” Rashid’s voice dropped, almost dangerously.
“She encountered him as she returned from her outing. Apparently, he visited while she was away and they happened to cross paths.”
His expression froze.
It was the look of a man whose mood had turned black in an instant.
He could already guess what venomous words Count Clu might be pouring into her ears.
“Mandy.”
“Y-Yes, sir?” she stammered, startled at being addressed again.
“Bring some refreshments to her in about thirty minutes.”
“Yes, of course!”
She bowed deeply and hurried out of the room.
“What room are they in?”
“The Blue Parlor.”
Rashid’s lips curled into a slow, deliberate smile. He immediately understood why Tericia had chosen that room.
“…That’s why we don’t use the Blue Parlor. There’s a risk of conversations leaking. The only ones who know how to activate or disable the eavesdropping system are the current head of house, their spouse, and their heir… ah, Adler and Heinz know, too. They’re special cases.”
She had remembered.
“How could you tell me something that important?”
“Because your mother doesn’t know. So if you do, it’s fair.”
“Fair? How in the world is that fair?! Rashid, you—!”
That was the day he’d slyly coaxed a very naïve Tericia into learning the purpose of the Blue Parlor and how its hidden sound-transmission mechanism worked.
When she’d finally realized what he’d taught her, the shock and dismay on her face had been absolutely adorable.
“How could I not love you when you’re like that?”
Rashid rose from his seat.
“Let’s see what dear Uncle has to say.”
A satisfied smile crept onto his lips for the first time in a while.
“Tericia, my dear niece.”
Count Clu’s exaggerated greeting made Tericia frown slightly as she set her hat down on the sofa—though she took care to keep her expression neutral.
Since when does he call me that affectionately?
She sat gracefully, back straight and posture impeccable. Whatever happened, she wasn’t going to let this man find any flaws to exploit.
Even now, just being around him made her heartbeat flutter irregularly. Her fingertips felt cold.
Rashid’s presence had helped calm those nerves somewhat, but she still found this man—Count Clu—deeply unsettling.
“Would you like some tea, Uncle?” she asked evenly.
Her poise gave Clu a slight pause. She was far more refined than he remembered—elegant and composed in a way that made it hard to find a single opening.
Had they not crossed paths outside purely by chance, he might never have gotten this close at all.
“It’s such a shame… about your mother.”
“Thank you for your concern.”
He feigned sympathy. She lowered her gaze politely.
Since when does he call her ‘my sister-in-law’?
Clu had never once called her mother that—not ‘sister-in-law,’ not ‘Duchess,’ not even anything respectful. And now he had the nerve?
Tericia had never thought of herself as someone who angered easily, but if she kept looking at him, she might actually lash out.
She looked down again, mostly to hide the rising heat of fury building in her chest.
Apparently interpreting that gesture as sorrow, Count Clu leaned in slightly, his voice turning theatrical.
“Oh, Tericia. You’re still grieving, aren’t you?”
“……”
Trying to comfort her—or pretending to—he reached out and gently took her hand.
And right then, as if perfectly timed, the door to the parlor opened.
“I’ve brought tea,” said a voice.
Tericia had expected one of the maids. Instead, Sarah entered with a silver tray, placing the tea and refreshments carefully onto the table. Clu had no choice but to release Tericia’s hand and sit back.
After setting the table, Sarah turned to her lady and asked, “Shall I bring you water for your hands?”
“Please.”
Without missing a beat, Sarah presented a bowl with warm water for washing, along with a towel. Tericia washed her hands calmly, then dried them—her movements smooth and deliberate.
The entire sequence was so seamless, Clu could only watch, dumbfounded.
After Sarah bowed and exited, Tericia turned back to him.
“I appreciate your condolences, Uncle. But I’m sure that’s not the real reason you asked to see me today.”
“I just wanted to offer you some comfort,” he said, placing a hand dramatically over his chest. “Especially since you may have to leave House Hespelt.”
Her brows drew together ever so slightly.
“After your mother passed, your father was consumed by grief, and handed all authority over to Rashid, didn’t he?”
That wasn’t exactly true, but Tericia didn’t bother correcting him.
Clu had a knack for interpreting the surface of things in whatever way suited him best.
She was about to let the comment pass when his next words made her heart give a small, involuntary jolt.
“Sure, he calls you ‘sister’ now. But how long do you think that will last?”
At that moment, a low thud echoed somewhere in the room. But Tericia couldn’t afford to react.
Her fingertips were starting to go cold.
The situation was different, but Count Clu had managed to poke at exactly the part of Tericia that still struggled—the part that remembered too much.
“…What are you trying to say, Uncle?” she asked, praying her voice wouldn’t betray her.
“It’s exactly what I said, Tericia.”
“……”
“That boy—he’ll take everything from you. And in the end, he’ll cast you out. My poor, pitiful niece.”
Count Clu’s smile curved into something sharp—something tainted with venom.
