I Thought It Was the Monster Duke's Fake Sedative - Chapter 21

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 21
‘That startled me.’
She’d thought her neck was being strangled.
When her senses returned, she realized she was being held by the chin.
The armored fingers wrapped around his hand had merely touched her neck, making her think she was being choked.
Lucy glanced up at Edward timidly.
Instead of the usual relaxed air, the man looked down at her with an expressionless face.
Seeing that face, she felt a little disappointed.
‘Even when I’m helping him, he’s upset with me.’
But what could she say? She was someone whose life hung on Edward’s whims.
Lucy hastily concealed her fear and hurt.
And she smiled harmlessly while her chin remained firmly grasped.
“Why, why are you like this, sir?”
Edward stared intently at Lucy, tilting his head.
Unaware that his hand, which had been holding her chin, was gradually sliding toward her cheek.
An indescribable feeling stirred in Edward’s chest.
Neither wholly bad nor wholly good.
‘This tiny thing dares.’
To meddle in his affairs without permission.
And though it was meant to attack him, she went on singing the praises of that count regardless.
‘…gazing at another man that way in front of me.’
The flattering words she’d poured out to the count, the innocent smile she’d offered him—all of it irked him far more than it should.
And yet….
The image of her small, pale back, standing proudly before him with shoulders squared, defending him with such courage, remained seared in his mind.
And the way she’d casually touched his armor, drenched in the blood of demons that others instinctively avoided.
‘So fearless for something so small.’
Other humans subtly feared and avoided Edward in the moments after combat.
They praised him with words.
Yet in their eyes when he dripped with demon blood or his scales rose in the aftershock of battle, both longing and revulsion flickered together.
Those nobles standing there earlier were no different.
They called him a great hero and all that, but their eyes held an unspoken wariness.
Yet why was it different with her?
This woman approached as though such things were ordinary, and stood at his side.
Moreover, even now, not a trace of fear showed in her at the demon blood that clung to him.
Only an awareness of his mood.
As if all that mattered to her was Edward’s feelings.
……
Edward’s hand, which had been cupping her cheek, twitched without his awareness.
Her cheek was compressed, her lips puckering outward like a duck’s bill.
Come to think of it, touching those lips had felt rather good.
It was then that Edward’s gaze, without his notice, fixed upon them.
“Yes, well, those lordly fellows looked down on you, treating you like you were small and unreliable….”
“Small?”
“No, I mean they genuinely didn’t realize how capable you are….”
Lucy chattered on earnestly, her words mangled by the pressure on both cheeks.
It was her attempt, in her own way, to make excuses.
‘He’s probably going to blame me for butting into his business.’
It wasn’t difficult to guess, given how well she knew Edward’s temperament.
He could laugh playfully and act at ease, then flip entirely and turn cold as ice.
Survival-minded flattery flowed naturally from her body.
“At least you and I can work together, and, and like this, even with the demon blood all over your armor….”
She kept her eyes pitifully wide while gazing at the armor soaked in demon blood….
‘Wait, but.’
What had those people done to deserve complaining about someone who fought in their stead?
Without realizing it, sincerity had mingled into her flattery.
She found herself wondering whether the older women had suffered like this, hunting monsters.
“It’s unfair.”
Even as she said it, she felt a bittersweet pang.
‘You’re no different, Lucy.’
The dream she’d had last night came back to her.
A dream of her past self trembling in the Shelter, waiting for a hero—and Edward appearing before her.
Of course, what came after was him testing how useful she’d be, doing all sorts of things….
‘…I’ll skip that part.’
Still, she’d relied on Edward in ways both known and unknown.
To be her hero.
Even though she’d grasped, at least vaguely, how heroes were truly treated.
‘Though maybe being a hero isn’t all that good for him either.’
Such bitter thoughts—though not quite bitter—were all she had to offer.
Of course, the Edward she glanced up at seemed to have no particular reaction.
If anything, he seemed more bothered by what Lucy was saying than by the resentment he’d heard from the people outside just moments before.
“That it’s unfair,” she pressed on.
“Yes. So… phew!”
The face he’d been holding down finally broke free.
Edward had released his hand, as if inviting her to continue.
Lucy nodded eagerly.
“Our Duke—no, my master may speak unkindly, or rather, quite unkindly, but how is he not compassionate… or rather, how is he not… quite, quite tolerant?”
…….
“Honestly, how diligent are you? Taking even Purification you don’t want to receive, forcing yourself to accept it….”
As she spoke, her eyes rolled slightly.
In the old days, Sepia had performed the Purification, but now it was she who did it.
One wrong word and she could dig her own grave.
Yet the words that tumbled out next came from the heart.
“But because you’re a hero, they blame you for other people’s mistakes too?”
…….
“They rush at you when it’s good, they shout that they love you—then what?”
…….
“They only call you a hero when it suits them, and the moment they suffer, it’s all the Duke’s fault? What you do isn’t even something that should be expected of you.”
Lucy spoke with intensity in her eyes.
“That’s unfair.”
As she finished, Edward watched her without stirring.
Then he laughed softly.
Unfair.
It was a word he’d never truly considered before.
And there was good reason….
“In pain? When you were incomplete from the start?”
“Be grateful you can become a perfect hero. You ought to think of repaying that debt.”
“Act like a hero. That means accepting sacrifice as given.”
The oppressive face of the Previous Duke, whip in hand, flashed swiftly through his mind.
Edward’s lack of doubt in his own perfection stemmed from the Previous Duke.
It was different from mere arrogance.
‘That perfectionist had carved me according to his vision.’
There was no way he could be anything less than perfect.
It was a thought half-laced with mockery.
At least, after the Previous Duke’s death, things had become easier.
He could speak carelessly to the nobles, dispose of them without consequence—yet certain teachings the Previous Duke had seared into his very bones still remained within Edward.
Things like accepting blame even when working as a hero, or never bothering with pointless excuses.
‘How unpleasant.’
At that sensation, Edward blinked slowly.
Teachings that had been so obvious before that he’d never even thought to find them unpleasant.
Yet here he was, becoming aware of them simply because this small mouse had said such a thing.
On one hand, it occurred to him—
This small mouse….
‘She likes me quite a lot.’
She seemed so timid, yet here she was, stepping forward in front of others to take his side.
Moreover, what he’d taken for granted, this woman seemed to regard with genuine conviction as unfair.
That she could treasure him this much.
The faint displeasure that had been settling within him melted away entirely.
‘…I’d planned to discard her once her usefulness faded.’
Yet here she was, repeating such endearing actions.
How could he coldly abandon her now without feeling reluctant?
In truth, no matter who the opponent was, he’d never felt a shred of guilt about disposing of them efficiently.
All the while, Lucy continued to stare wide-eyed, her words tumbling out in a passionate torrent.
“You left it all to him? You left everything to the Duke?”
“…I agree!”
“You startled me!”
Lucy, speaking with an earnestness that surprised even herself, spun around at the sudden intrusion of another voice.
Tepe had slipped into the Inn behind them and now stood with clenched fists, his expression taut with emotion.
“Precisely, Your Grace. These fools carry on as though they’ve entrusted everything to you.”
Lucy nodded vigorously in agreement.
“…That’s right. You’re absolutely right!”
“What makes them think they can sleep soundly in safety?”
“I agree! They claim to care, yet love changes on a whim!”
Even the usually composed Gorgo nodded along without attempting to calm the two of them.
Tepe turned to face Lucy, his eyes suddenly bright.
The displeasure that had clouded his gaze moments before had vanished entirely.
“Listen, woman. I apologize for suspecting you—for thinking you some dubious, unidentifiable creature. A little mouse, I mean. A baby mouse.”
“What? That’s information I never wanted to know.”
“Now I see you’re a rare sort with your head on straight.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“Judging only by your words, I took you for a con artist.”
“Ahem, ahem!”
“But it seems we might understand each other rather well after all—”
It was the moment Tepe reached to place a hand on Lucy’s shoulder.
Whisk.
“Oh!”
Edward pulled Lucy swiftly to his side, his gaze settling on Tepe with cold indifference.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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