The Murderous Duke's Domestic Affairs - Chapter 14

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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 14
Despite my resolve not to react, I stiffened involuntarily. The hand against my cheek was ice-cold, yet at some point it began to feel scorching, as though it might burn me at any moment. The nail marks on my cheek—marks that should have long since faded—throbbed painfully. Those fingertips felt as though they might claw at me again, just as they had when I was very small. Delania smiled with satisfaction as she watched my lips tremble.
“Because of you, I’m about to end up marrying that old man. Do you understand?”
Memories cannot wound me. They are nothing. I knew this well. So I should have said that none of this was my fault. But my frozen lips would not open. Breathing became difficult. I had thought I would be fine by now, yet the memories of childhood refused to release me. I squeezed my eyes shut.
I wanted to forget my childhood. I had an abundance of memories of being loved by my parents. Yet despite that, there were things I did not wish to remember. One of them stood right before me: Delania.
My father, Emel Siaz, cherished his only younger brother dearly. As the second son of a humble marquis house, he should have naturally sought independence early and found his own way to survive. But having lost his parents young, he wished to keep his brother Trace Siaz close by his side. Even after Trace established his own household and had two children, my father used the excuse that the Marquis Estate was too vast and lonely without them.
That my father loved his brother was, at least to me, no source of joy. Delania existed even in my earliest memories. Perhaps that was natural, given that she was older than I was.
One of Delania’s claims was true—it seemed she had indeed behaved like an older sister in childhood, at least according to my parents’ testimony. She would select clothes for me to wear, braid my hair, and dote on me. Only later did I wonder if she had simply wanted a living doll to possess.
When did Delania change? Was it when I began attending school? I was praised for my quick understanding, for my excellent grades. Though there was a prevailing belief that girls should simply marry, even the teachers said it would be a waste for me to do so.
Perhaps it began that day. I became a sensitive, difficult child—at least, that is what Delania made of me. The day she savagely clawed my cheek, Delania instead wept and claimed I had pushed her. She said she had only tried to steady me for fear I would fall, but her nails had caught me instead. She apologized to me, saying she was sorry.
It was only the beginning. Delania tore my clothes, injured me, and stole my things. Whenever I told my parents, she would weep and accuse me of lying, saying she had given me those things or that we had simply fallen while playing together.
I gradually stopped speaking. No matter how loudly I cried out, people listened only to Delania’s words. The Delania they knew was the girl who had always been particularly fond of me, taking me everywhere she went.
When some unsavory incident occurred, Trace Siaz’s family left the Marquis Estate. I could finally stop being swayed by Delania’s lies. My parents smiled, noting that I had become gentler, no longer so sensitive. I could not smile in return.
Now I understand what happened then, but at the time, I knew only that Delania had vanished from before my eyes—and that fact alone filled me with a joy that seemed to leap from my chest.
Gradually, I began to voice my opinions. I never fully adapted to society, but instead learned about territorial affairs and administrative duties from my father. It was difficult and demanding work, yet it suited me well and brought me joy—far more than attending gatherings to drink tea and engage in meaningless conversation.
After my parents’ funeral following a sudden carriage accident, when Trace Siaz, worried about me being alone, settled himself at the Marquis Estate, I thought I would be fine. I was an adult now. Unlike the helpless child I had been, I could do anything.
Though Delania had taken everything from me, and Trace had tried to force me into marriage for his own gain, I thought I could manage. I could ignore Delania, and I had ultimately avoided the marriage by fleeing. As someone no longer a child, there was nothing left to fear.
Yet my memory proved to be better than I myself had believed. The dark malice I had forcibly buried rose like clouds, enveloped me, and bound me so I could not move.
“You’ll have to take responsibility, won’t you, Lauren?”
Delania tenderly stroked my cheek. Her violet eyes, turned toward my cousin, trembled faintly. Tell her no, Lauren. Don’t waste your effort. Yet despite my conviction that I could do anything, my frozen lips would not part.
Someone knocked on the door. Had Calvin returned with the tea? Delania, who had been leaning across the table, straightened herself and answered in my stead. Upon seeing who appeared beyond the door, she rose from her seat with a radiant smile.
“Oh my, I never expected to meet the Duke. How do you do? It’s my first time meeting you. I’m Delania Lili Siaz, Lauren’s older sister.”
What was she doing now? Adding a middle name that didn’t exist, one suspiciously similar to Lilywood’s name, no less. I gazed quietly at my own fingertips.
No, I cannot do this. I must appear unaffected, no matter what. I must seem fine. I had resolved to do so from the moment I left the Marquis Siaz Estate. Yet I could not turn to Aster and smile. Biting my trembling lips firmly, I lowered my head.
“Lauren’s older sister?”
Aster’s quiet voice reached my ears. He had taken the seat beside me. Delania was skilled at lying—would Aster fall for her deception as well? The thought suddenly occurred to me. No, entertaining such thoughts would only bury me further. I forced my attention elsewhere. Calvin was supposed to bring tea, yet strangely, I could not see him.
“We’re cousins, but we lived together in childhood. We were quite close as sisters.”
“And?”
Delania laughed aloud, but Aster merely replied in a cool voice, saying nothing more. He leaned back against the chair as he always did. His weight pressed against the backrest, and I felt it through my own back. Though we had married based merely on mutual understanding, the thought that he still stood with me brought unexpected comfort. His solid presence eased something within me. I exhaled a long breath, only then realizing I had scarcely been breathing at all.
“How strange—Lauren never mentioned to me that she was marrying the Duke. I felt a bit hurt, so I came to visit.”
“Without an appointment?”
“Oh dear, yes. Now that Lauren is the Duchess, I should have thought of such things. But she has always welcomed me so warmly.”
Her laughter, like birdsong, fluttered through the room. I should have denied it, but my lips would not open. Instead, I carefully grasped the hem of Aster’s coat. I felt his gaze upon me. Yet I could not bring myself to turn toward him.
For some reason, he rose and drew me to my feet. My strength seemed to drain away. Though I thought I should endure, I stumbled. Aster caught me, nearly embracing me to keep me steady. Thanks to him, I was spared from appearing pathetic before Delania’s eyes. The firmness of his hand at my waist was reassuring.
“Today is the day we’ve arranged to have my wife’s wardrobe and dresses fitted. You’ll have to leave.”
“Then I should stay closer by her side.”
He had clearly told her to leave. Had she not understood, or was she pretending not to? Aster’s green eyes narrowed. Yet Delania merely smiled without concern.
“Lauren has absolutely no sense when it comes to choosing clothes. Look at her now. Those are the sort of things governesses wear, not what a Duchess should have on.”
Ah, so she was offering to choose for me? Aster let out a short laugh. As if she wouldn’t slip a few dresses and some jewelry into her possession while she was at it. From the start, he had never been dissatisfied with Lauren’s attire. She looked far better in calm, practical clothing than in the elaborate but restrictive garments other noblewomen wore. She herself preferred such clothes as well.
Rather, Aster surveyed the woman before him anew. The large, mismatched floral ruffles and crude lace adorning her subdued dress were conspicuous enough to catch even his untrained eye regarding women’s fashion. Therefore, Delania had neither the right nor the need to criticize Lauren’s wardrobe.
“Well. I’ll choose my wife’s clothes, so you needn’t concern yourself with it.”
Aster turned his body while keeping his grip on Lauren’s waist. Then he called out loudly for Calvin. The Duke’s Mansion butler appeared from somewhere.
“It seems our guest is leaving.”
Calvin bowed respectfully and stepped forward to escort Delania out. But Delania didn’t follow Calvin. Gripping her skirt tightly, she raised her voice.
“I’m Lauren’s older sister! You won’t even give me a room to sleep in, and now you’re throwing me out like this?! Lauren! Say something!”
Lauren, whom Aster was practically holding, stiffened with a start. The hand he held for support tensed considerably. This wasn’t a good reaction. Aster, observing her carefully, turned only his head to look at Delania.
“Lauren, I respect your opinion, but it seems the newspaper article wasn’t part of the arrangement. How troublesome that everything gets tangled up.”
Aster pulled one corner of his mouth and murmured in a low voice. His sunken green eyes, fixed upon Delania’s brown ones, flickered with a murderous intent so palpable that even seasoned warriors from the battlefield would shrink back. His voice and gaze emanated a killing aura that could make bones quake.
It was impressive that she dared to shriek despite knowing his reputation as a murderer, but that was all. Indeed, I had never seen anyone else receive his fierce gaze so indifferently as Lauren did. Aster glanced at Delania’s ashen face, let out a scoff, and turned his body again. Something was wrong with Lauren’s state, and it bothered me.
Behind us came Calvin’s polite voice. That woman would be handled by Calvin. I needed to hurry and get Lauren somewhere she could rest. Her steps were unsteady and wavering—it would be easier to simply carry her, but that would startle her. Seeing her startled face would be quite enjoyable, but that wasn’t what mattered now. No matter what, I already knew such things.
Lauren wasn’t a cold person, but she possessed a composure that remained unshaken by anything. Yet here she was, struggling like this. I should ask what had happened, but that would have to wait. Pressing my lips together firmly, I supported Lauren without a word.

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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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