I Thought It Was the Monster Duke's Fake Sedative - Chapter 47

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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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Episode 47
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“Oh my, how adorable.”
……
“Do look at this, madam.”
Squeak.
Clara carefully lifted the stuffed doll from where it lay on the floor.
Each time she pressed the doll’s chest, a squeaking sound echoed through the quiet space.
“It’s hard to imagine the Duke playing with something like this, wouldn’t you say?”
While Clara chattered on, stealing glances at Lucy, Lucy herself was too busy surveying the room.
“So this is….”
“Yes. It’s the room the Duke used when he was young.”
Just moments earlier.
“A favor?”
“You said Edward—the Duke—spent his childhood here. Would you take me to that room?”
“But madam, we should treat that wound first—where you were pricked earlier….”
“That’s really fine. I’m more curious about how the Duke spent his time.”
……
“Suddenly I just had to see it for myself.”
Lucy pressed the matter, urging Clara onward.
Clara looked flustered at first, but eventually relented and began leading the way.
When they left the room, Gorgo, who should have been standing before the door, was nowhere to be seen.
Yet the unease from Gorgo’s absence paled compared to the disquiet that space had stirred in her.
It was in this peculiar tension that they had arrived here.
A room as lavish and gleaming as the one where they’d found the Duchess’s hair.
This was the room where Edward had lived as a child.
‘Certainly….’
This looked far more fitting for a room where Edward—who had been destined to become Duke—would have spent his youth.
The expensive furniture bore the refined craftsmanship of a master artisan.
The toy chest was crammed with fine toys studded with Mana Stones, and through the wide terrace windows stretched a courtyard where children could run freely.
By any measure, it was the room of a young duke.
“Goodness! Look at this too!”
Moreover, when Clara opened the wardrobe, it was filled with beautiful, high-quality children’s clothing.
Bright and ornate garments that a young Edward would have worn.
“To think the Duke wore such things—it’s so….”
“…charming.”
Lucy answered without thinking.
There were tailored shorts, a formal dress suit with a gold bow tie, fine pajamas—
All things that would have suited young Edward perfectly.
It wasn’t difficult to imagine the golden-haired boy dressed in them.
As Lucy surveyed the many garments, her mind conjured a vivid scene of young Edward cycling through them dozens of times—”No, this isn’t it. Not this either. Do you have eyes in your feet?”—fussing and changing endlessly.
“Doesn’t it seem that way? He must have looked absolutely precious.”
Lucy nodded at Clara’s words, trying to banish the afterimage of that dingy room she’d seen earlier.
‘That’s right.’
Edward must have lived in this room.
Back then, he’d have acted just as imperiously, strutted about like a little tyrant, running from place to place.
The thought was oddly reassuring, until….
“But, Clara.”
“Yes?”
“You mentioned a portrait earlier.”
“That’s right.”
“I don’t see it anywhere.”
“Pardon?”
Lucy glanced around the room, gesturing broadly.
“I’d like to see a portrait of him as a child—to better imagine him in these clothes.”
……
“Where is that portrait?”
“Well, that is….”
“Don’t tell me it doesn’t exist?”
“No! No! It must be somewhere! Let me find it for you!”
Clara glanced around hurriedly and started forward.
Lucy felt reassured by her words, yet couldn’t help a wry smile at the thought.
‘I just wish I could be a little more certain.’
Just a tiny bit more certain, that’s all.
That young Edward had lived here joyfully and happily.
A portrait from back then would serve as proof.
When she thought about it rationally, there was no real need to confirm his happiness—and yet she wanted to.
‘He must have been raised spoiled, getting whatever he wanted.’
He must have grown up wanting for nothing, well-fed and warm and content.
A man who possesses everything he desires, who handles people as he sees fit.
He speaks as though he means to frighten you, and yet he quietly looks after you. Feeds you, puts you to bed, clothes you, tends to you.
Could only someone raised with such indulgence and affection do such things?
What flickered through her mind was the memory of those hands, gently massaging her ankle.
“How can someone so weak talk about performing more Purification?”
“I can do it, I’m telling you. Don’t you trust me?”
“No.”
……
“You want me to trust the word of a Purifier who twists her ankle while running the Training Ground?”
A few days ago.
She had twisted her ankle while running the Training Ground, and Edward had gently cradled her foot in his hands, saying he wanted to check how badly she’d hurt herself.
His touch had been warm then, and careful.
As though the slightest pressure might shatter her into pieces.
When Lucy thought back on it, Edward had always been that way.
He seemed like the sort of man who would discard anything that might hinder his path without hesitation.
And yet, for all his cutting words, his hands were gentle when he held her. He slowed their pace to spare her weak body, all the way until they reached the Territory.
After arriving at the Territory, she didn’t even need to curry favor with him.
He saw to her meals himself, gave her the finest room, and even let her use the luxurious bath attached to his own chambers.
And that wasn’t all.
‘Now we’re even getting married.’
Of course, it was a marriage they both wanted, driven by their own desires.
It was a marriage that would make full use of Lucy’s Purification abilities.
So she didn’t think Edward was sacrificing himself for her sake, or that she owed him a one-sided debt—and yet.
The way Edward had casually pulled her close before the priest. The warmth that had wrapped around her lower belly. The memory came flooding back.
“My dear shouldn’t do something if I tell her not to.”
“That’s right, my dear, isn’t it?”
The way he’d smiled, repeating back the term of endearment she’d used.
Lucy pressed her burning ears with embarrassed fingers.
And she realized, somewhat to her surprise, that her affection for Edward was larger than she’d thought.
‘…Could this be Stockholm syndrome?’
Perhaps she’d grown accustomed to his whims and selfishness, and without realizing it, had begun taking his side.
Perhaps she was being overly grateful for kindnesses he thought nothing of.
‘But still….’
Still, no child should have to grow up in a place like that.
So she wanted to be just a little more certain.
Lucy was drawing a deep breath against the nameless unease when
Clara returned empty-handed from searching the room for a portrait.
Before Lucy could say anything, Clara smiled hastily.
“How strange. Perhaps because I don’t come here often… I can’t seem to find it.”
“So there’s nothing?”
“No! It must be somewhere here… unless he hung it in another room.”
“I see. Then take me to that other room.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Clara answered readily and stepped toward the door, her eyes carefully scanning the surroundings.
“Clara?”
Lucy called out to her as she noticed Clara lingering, staring at something in the distance.
“You wretched thing!”
Smack!
From not far away came an unexpected cry and the sharp sound of something striking hard.
It was the sharp voice of a middle-aged woman.
‘Was there someone else in this building?’
Lucy’s eyes widened at the unexpected voice.
A slightly hollow tone followed.
“My apologies.”
“How could you manage it so poorly that it simply disappeared!”
“It is entirely my negligence, Grand Lady.”
‘Grand Lady.’
The moment that title reached his ears, Edward’s mind—until then consumed with thought—turned to ice in an instant.

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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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