The Countess's Body Has Disappeared - Chapter 46

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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 46
Davion shook his head, trying to dispel the haunting thoughts that had seized him.
In the meantime, Cecilia—her basket brimming with fruit—had wandered off humming to herself, straying from the path they’d come by. Only when her retreating figure was already distant did Davion notice, and he hurried after her, catching her hand and gesturing toward the opposite direction with his chin.
“Silly girl, where do you think you’re going? We came from that way.”
A faint blush crept across Cecilia’s nose. She lifted her chin deliberately, trying to mask her embarrassment.
“If we get lost, we can just ask the birds. They grumble about it, but they answer in the end.”
“The thicker branches on a tree point south—that’s where the sun shines brightest. And if one side of a rock is wet, or the moss is thick there, that’s the north, since moss grows in shaded places.”
Davion’s hand swept up and down, indicating each direction. Cecilia’s eyes darted back and forth following him, and soon she screwed up her face in irritation.
“How do you know all this?”
“I learned it at school. But when I was deployed, I ended up in a desert, so I never had much use for it.”
“I’m curious—does Kalita really have sand stretching out like an ocean?”
“It does. A few years ago I traveled to Moksha with Mother, and it was completely different. There was grass in Moksha’s desert, but in Kalita, I didn’t see a single cactus.”
Yet for some reason, Cecilia’s brow had grown darker. Without meaning to, Davion tensed.
“What’s wrong?”
Cecilia looked away, her voice dropping to a whisper.
“I’ve never traveled anywhere, not once.”
Davion’s heart sank. Had he said something tactless? But studying her expression, he realized that wasn’t it.
“Not even before you lived in that cottage?”
“Mother always kept me locked in a hotel room. She’d leave before dawn and come back days later. That’s all I remember from childhood.”
“You have so many days ahead of you, Cecilia.”
Davion tucked a few strands of white hair behind her ear with a careful smile.
“You can travel whenever you want, wherever you want.”
“You’re right. You’re absolutely right.”
As a smile bloomed across Cecilia’s face, Davion felt his worry lift. He brushed his knuckles against her cheek. Cecilia stiffened her spine and let out a deliberately casual cough.
“My husband will have to be very rich. Rich enough to pay for all my travels, since I’m a pauper!”
“Do you even know how much this watch costs?”
Davion pulled the wristwatch from his trouser pocket—the one he’d removed during their exertion—and held it out to her. A mischievous smile twisted his features.
“Probably as expensive as a duchess’s diamond earrings.”
Cecilia burst into laughter, then fixed him with a sharp glare.
“You insufferable braggart.”
Davion lifted his shoulders in a sheepish shrug, but a realization pierced through his mind like a blade, and his heart plummeted.
This wasn’t just a flutter of excitement. He didn’t merely want to give Cecilia everything she desired—he wanted to build a future with her.
I’m truly in love with her.
Yet knowing his own heart brought something else in its wake: fear. Love alone couldn’t bridge the chasm of class difference—that much was plain.
And what of his family? His older brother had left home long ago, but what would he tell his mother? Would she ever accept his relationship with Cecilia?
No. It was impossible.
By now Cecilia had moved far down the mountainside, the basket tucked under her arm. But Davion remained rooted to the spot, unable to follow.
Just as Cecilia had said, he had an arranged meeting with Esmeralda ahead of him. Even if he called this one off, there would be endless others until marriage.
Cold reality had come knocking.
And Davion was not yet ready to open the door.
* * *
Days passed before Davion breathed a word to Blake about the arranged meeting.
He knew well the weight of Blake’s expectations for her son. To deny feeling the pressure would have been a lie. But beyond that, he believed there was another reason it wasn’t yet time.
For Blake, August was always a crucial month. She hosted a grand party each year, inviting promising young artists and introducing them to patrons.
Having studied at a respected arts academy herself, Blake took deep interest in the advancement of the artistic world. Yet this year’s party, Davion noted, looked rather different.
“There seem to be many people here who have nothing to do with the arts.”
In the ballroom, where the light of the crystal chandelier scattered in all directions, invited guests—gentlemen and ladies alike—clustered in small groups, conversing.
A good many were politicians and businessmen. Had the party’s purpose changed without his knowing?
As Davion’s skeptical gaze swept across the room, Blake appeared beside him, swirling a champagne flute with a smile.
He understood the meaning of that expression at once. His stomach tightened.
“Didn’t you once tell me that you had no need for connections that would scatter like leaves in the wind?”
“That’s true for me. But not for you.”
So that’s why she’d insisted he wear his dress uniform instead of formal attire today.
The sudden weight of expectation made it hard to breathe. He wanted to hide the prominent shoulder insignia right then and there, or at least remove his cap.
“Remember their faces. These are people you’ll need in the future.”
“And you should look around carefully too, Mother. If there’s someone suitable among them, why not meet them? There’s no need to be lonely forever—”
“What are you saying, my son?”
Her perfectly groomed eyebrows, shaped like a V, tilted upward sharply. She grasped his uniformed arm lightly, then released it. Her smile turned elegant and sinister, like a villain from a storybook.
“We have to protect our fortune.”
Davion watched in silence as she drifted away, the hem of her black satin dress trailing across the ballroom floor.
Blake, descended from foreign royalty, was nobility to her very core. Just as her mother had been, passing wealth to her son was the great ambition of her life—and Davion knew this better than anyone. Every now and then, he felt grateful for it.
So, though his heart wasn’t in it, he’d decided to make an appearance before his mother returned, a matter of preserving dignity. The guests were expecting it, after all.
Yet as he surveyed the room, watching the movement of the crowd, he collided roughly with someone by accident.
“Oh, dear.”
A tall gentleman with hair nearly platinum-pale and eyes the color of spring leaves turned to check behind him. He was unmistakably Western, though his features bore no resemblance to bloodlines native to this land.
“My apologies. I was trying to avoid someone and lost my footing.”
As expected, his accent carried something foreign, neither quite a regional dialect nor entirely native to the tongue.
Davion removed the hat that had been shading his face and smiled.
“Not at all. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“You’re a gracious sort.”
The gentleman smiled back at Davion, but then his eyes narrowed slightly. In Davion’s striking gaze, he had glimpsed Blake.
“Forgive me, but are you perhaps a member of this household?”
Davion extended his hand first, offering a handshake.
“Davion Cissledown.”
“Ah, just as I suspected.”
The gentleman took his hand lightly, then released it and withdrew a business card from his jacket’s inner pocket, which he handed over. The moment Davion saw it, his composure faltered.

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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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