Rewriting the Trash Ending - Chapter 33

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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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33.

***

She had set out with her heart buoyant, but the journey home was bittersweet indeed.
When Lumiere returned to the castle, she ventured cautiously to speak to the man loosening his Cravat.
“I’m sorry. I promised to stay quiet, but I broke that promise.”
Her words to Magda about relatives had been meant to show that she no longer deserved to covet the inner workings of her own household.
But to touch the Reverse Scale of the Grand Duchy in front of everyone like that—
The handful of power she held came from the Grand Duchy itself, so she had never imagined he would be angry enough to score an own goal against himself.
“Lumiere has nothing to apologize for. If anyone owes an apology, it’s whoever spoke of Lumiere in such a manner.”
“…….”
The Bedroom, where a faint lamp flickered softly through the darkness.
Beneath eyes drawn sharp and straight, dark pupils regarded her with quiet composure.
The man who had always been transparent was now like a closed door—she could see nothing within.
Was he angry?
No—was he angry?
‘Of course he’s angry, you fool…….’
She had quarreled in front of his wife, her aunt, and everyone else, dredging up the Curse that lay upon the Grand Duchy, and on top of that she had stood there and taken a blow. Of course he was angry.
And yet.
“Before leaving the Empire, I believe I told you something.”
He unfastened the cuff links holding his sleeves in place, one by one, and continued in an even tone.
“If Lumiere desired it, cutting down your opponent would present no difficulty whatsoever.”
Beneath his voice, words he had spoken long ago echoed back.

“If the Princess desires it, you need not strike her cheek—her neck will do, and it will cause no problems.”

That was it.
As long as she was his, he was a man who would stand by her no matter what she did.
“It is the same now. Whatever Lumiere has done, it cannot be a problem.”
His voice was firm, as though to say it would matter not even if it were.
“Ah…….”
Only then did she understand.
The reason his dark eyes appeared closed was not that Axid’s unconditional loyalty had changed in any way—it had not.
Even in that moment when she had struck the Reverse Scale, painful even to name.
She had thought him surely angry, yet he spoke to her in the same voice as that day, repeating the same words.
Her heart, cinched tight with tension, slowly loosened, and an inexplicable longing welled up inside her.
“…Duke, may I hold you for a moment?”
“I…?”
“…I don’t know. You just said there would be no problem with whatever I did, so I want to hold you for a little while.”
Before he could answer, she reached out and pulled his body into her embrace.
She did not wish to think of anything else now.
She wanted to wrap her arms around that large, rough frame of his—far too big and unwieldy for her own body to contain—and comfort him.
Her husband as he had appeared at the entrance to the Banquet Hall, looking vulnerable, as though an old wound long concealed had been torn open.
“…….”
His hands, as if lost, fumbled through empty air before gently drawing her shoulders close.
The awkward gesture of someone who did not know how to be held stirred something tender in her chest.
She held him tight for a long while, refusing to let go.

***

Deep into the dawn, when the moon hanging at the edge of the sky cast a pale, pale light upon the earth.
Axid lay watching Lumiere, asleep in his arms as she always was, with quiet contentment.
She slept peacefully, cradled against his hard frame as though it were the most comfortable place in the world.
He had warned her to be careful when sharing a bed with a man.
Whether she had forgotten that warning, or whether today had simply exhausted her so thoroughly.
Lumiere stirred in her sleep and naturally nestled deeper into his embrace, and for hours now she had remained thus.
His rough fingertips carefully brushed the strands of her hair, disheveled and pale, back over her shoulder.
Perhaps he’d thought his wife didn’t know the rumors that circulated about the Grand Duchy.

“What if I wanted to?”

The way she approached without fear, playful and bold—the way she clung to him like a beloved doll each time they lay together.
It wasn’t the behavior of someone who knew about the Grand Duchy’s curse.
Yet when she saw him respond without hesitation to the Countess’s words, he realized she did know the dark history of his house.
She hadn’t even asked for reasons when he spoke of marital duties being unnecessary—something he’d privately found strange. Now the pieces were beginning to fit.
She’d known all along about that ominous fate, inseparable from his very being, and yet she’d smiled at him all the same.
He’d carefully avoided mentioning the family’s secret, fearing he might be treated as a monster. To think all that caution had been for nothing.

“Surely you weren’t brought here merely to continue a distinguished line? You must know what became of the previous consorts.”

His eyes darkened, pupils narrowing.
Since his body had developed with pronounced masculine vigor, he’d suffered through rut every single year.
Lumiere seemed not to believe in the curse’s existence, but the rut that visited him each year—something no human should experience—proved the curse was real. Each time, he thrashed like a beast, restrained and helpless.
His mother had endured it. Every Grand Duchess before her had endured it.
The moment she carried this accursed bloodline within her, she too would not escape death.
He had to keep his distance from her.
But that alone wouldn’t be enough.
Lumiere was the kind of person who opened her heart to the smallest warmth, and he was the kind of man who felt shameful impulses at her defenselessness.
To prevent her from growing attached to him, to shield her from his own sordid desires, he had to become a cold husband.
Laughing bitterly at himself, he gazed long at her sleeping face, then carefully withdrew, taking pains not to wake her.
Click.
The moment the door shut, his black eyes grew cold, shadow-like chill descending over them.
Only after he’d firmly sealed away the fragile emotions that had been seeping through.
Axid adjusted his disheveled appearance and asked casually.
“Has the Count been brought?”
Brian, waiting before the door, answered with a stony expression.
“He’s been shown to the Audience Chamber.”
Axid nodded curtly and headed toward the Audience Chamber.
It was late for receiving guests, but he gave it no thought.
After all, this wasn’t a guest.
Upon entering the Audience Chamber, Count Mobert stood trembling, bewildered and confused.
Since marrying into the Mobert Family and obtaining his title, he’d done nothing but enjoy the comforts that came with being the Grand Duke’s relation.
With everything already within his grasp, there was no reason for him to appear at some tedious old man’s birthday celebration.
Thus he couldn’t even guess why he’d been dragged here by the Grand Duchy’s knights in the dead of night.
“Y-Your Highness, I—”
As Axid strode toward the seat of honor, Brian closed the door behind him.
The moment Axid sat, the Count’s trembling lips opened.
“Sire, I don’t understand why you’ve summoned me at this hour, I—”
“You will refrain from speaking until His Highness permits it.”
At Brian’s warning, the Count fell silent.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The Grand Duke drummed his index finger against the armrest as if waiting for someone, and in the quiet space, only the irregular, fearful breathing of the trembling man could be heard.
How long had they stood thus?
Terra entered with a composed expression.
Despite the late hour, not a single strand of hair was out of place.
“Your Highness, the documents you requested.”
Axid silently began turning through the sheaf of papers she handed him.
……
Page after page.
The sound of each turn carried through the room like the ring of a whetstone, and soon Axid closed the dossier.
“You’ve received quite a substantial sum over the years.”
The tone was measured, yet it sufficed to heighten the tension.
Over all these years, the money flowing into the Mobert Family was draining from the Grand Duchy’s coffers like clockwork—a monthly bleed.
An annual stipend Axid’s father had established, so that a fixed amount would flow each month to his wife’s natal house.
Until now, he’d deliberately left that matter untouched, allowing it to continue through sheer inertia.
Not out of affection for the Mobert Family.
If his mother had traded her life to bring him into the world, then surely that debt should be repaid, if only to her remaining blood.
But paying the price and granting an appointment were two different matters entirely.
So whenever the Countess Mobert had coveted the position, he’d drawn the line without exception.
But the moment that woman showed it to the Grand Duchess, his resolve had shifted.
“Count.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“How much has your family’s situation improved these years?”
“Incomparably, Your Highness. We live in comfort and abundance now, and it is entirely due to the boundless kindness you have shown us.”
“Then there’s no need for further support.”
“I beg your pardon……?”
The Count stood frozen in place, cold sweat beading on his brow as he questioned what he’d just heard.
No need for further support?
It sounded terribly like he was saying he wouldn’t provide any more.
The Count’s eyes widened in alarm as he looked toward him.
But the Grand Duke’s gaze had turned cold and distant.

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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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