The Murderous Duke's Domestic Affairs - Chapter 37

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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 37
I had never truly feared blood or death. I was raised as a soldier, after all. In a few years, when I came of age, I would be commissioned as an officer and sent to the Battlefield. So in my own way, I needed to grow accustomed to it. That’s why this trembling, this agitation—it wasn’t fear of death. I told myself it was because death had no place here, in this peaceful Estate. That’s what I desperately wanted to believe.
Yes. Death didn’t belong in the tranquil Duke’s Mansion. This wasn’t reality. It was a fantasy. A nightmare. I had to wake from this terrible dream. So I forced myself to move forward. Surely, when I reached the end of this Corridor, the nightmare would shatter.
But what met my feet wasn’t the end of the nightmare. I looked down at the ground beneath me. What entered my vision was the corpse of a servant—someone who had diligently moved through the Estate just this morning—dressed in a black uniform with a gaping wound across the chest. Broken teapots and teacups lay scattered all around.
My heart sank with a heavy thud. At the end of this Corridor was the Tea Room where my family gathered to drink tea together. Whenever I returned from attending Social Gatherings in Blaze’s stead, my family would gather in the Tea Room as if by promise. Today should have been no different. If not for this carnage now unfolding before my eyes.
My gaze swept across the surroundings. There wasn’t just one corpse. Wherever I stepped, there were those who had breathed their last.
An attack? But by whom? Aster Veil Lilywood was a pillar of the nation, so he surely had political rivals. But no matter how hard I forced my sluggish mind to work, I couldn’t think of anyone capable of attacking the Estate. Still, if this truly was an attack, wandering about unarmed might be dangerous.
Yes. I drew a deep breath. The stench of blood made my head spin, but I didn’t even register it.
This is an attack. Otherwise, even the servants wouldn’t have been completely slaughtered. With blurred eyes, I looked around. A decorative sword hanging on the wall caught my attention, and I drew it. If this were an attack by political rivals, they wouldn’t reveal themselves so openly—assassination would be more likely. But my dizzy mind had no room to consider such things.
I gripped the sword to feel its weight. Then I took a stumbling step forward. I began walking toward the Tea Room where my parents were waiting. An ominous premonition wrapped around my entire body, perhaps from the squelching liquid beneath my feet.
Without realizing it, my pace quickened. I soon began to run. The distance to the Tea Room at the end of the Corridor felt impossibly long.
As the Tea Room drew closer, the state of the Corridor only grew more horrific. But I, consumed by my own thoughts, couldn’t see any of it. I simply ran toward my destination. It felt as though an eternity had passed, but I finally reached my goal.
The door that was always open to welcome me stood firmly shut. I, gripping the sword in my right hand with all my strength, seized the door handle. The cold metal felt as though it would freeze my entire body, but I gritted my teeth and turned it. The door opened with a sound so dreadfully unpleasant it made my skin crawl.
And then, a sight I could scarcely believe unfolded before my eyes. My green eyes opened wide.
“Welcome home, Aster.”
Eyes with a blue tint, just slightly deeper than mine, curved toward me. A smile more brilliant than the winter sunlight streaming through the large windows. If only he weren’t covered in blood. If only Mother weren’t lying at his feet. If only the sword in his hand hadn’t pierced through Father’s body.
“…Brother?”
My lips trembled as I called out to him. My eyes, opened wide, shook frantically as if doubting what I had seen. A deep smile lingered at the corners of Blaze’s mouth as he looked toward me.
I couldn’t believe the sight before me. I forced myself to breathe, though my breath came in ragged gasps. The thick stench of blood made me want to lose consciousness, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the red stains clinging to Blaze’s hands, his clothes, his cheeks.
“…Blaze, did you do this?”
My voice, forced out with great effort, came out pathetically hoarse. Tears welled up in my enlarged eyes. Blaze, seeing me like this, let out a small laugh, then pulled the sword from Father’s heart. Father’s body collapsed limply to the ground.
“Why…?”
My hand gripping the sword tightened. My fist clenched with all my strength trembled. Blaze’s face still wore that smile. His blue-tinged green eyes narrowed.
“Why!!”
I lunged at Blaze. But whether from losing my composure or not, the sword I swung was blocked far too easily by his hand. I was nearly thrown to the ground, rolling across the floor. The bright red liquid pooled on the ground clung wetly to me, staining my white dress uniform entirely crimson.
“How pathetically weak.”
Blaze, his eyes narrowed, clicked his tongue in disdain and muttered softly.
But I didn’t hear his voice. My feet slipped in the blood, but I gritted my teeth and rose to my feet. Then I swung my sword at Blaze again. But he blocked it effortlessly. His movements were far more practiced than mine—I, who had studied only at the Military Academy, consumed by rage as I wielded my blade.
I rose and drew my sword again, many times over, but the result was always the same. I couldn’t wound Blaze. Instead, it was I who accumulated injuries. Even as our blades clashed, Blaze wore a grinning smile. It was chilling to see how he could smile like that.
“How can you be so weak, yet there’s talk of making you the successor?”
Successor?
Blaze met my blade as if bestowing mercy. At his softly whispered words, I froze. Successor? Why was he bringing that up now?
“What, you didn’t know?”
Blaze laughed quietly with a sharp sound, as if making sure I heard.
“Well, it doesn’t matter.”
A blue light flashed sharply in Blaze’s eyes. The next moment, a pain like fire ignited in my side. I had endured well despite my mounting wounds, but this blow seemed to have struck a vital point.
I exhaled involuntarily and fell to my knees. I couldn’t breathe properly. My vision blurred completely, and I wondered if my breath would stop here, but Blaze didn’t cut off my air. I simply collapsed.
“You know, Aster.”
The pain dragged my consciousness into some unknowable depths. But Blaze’s voice forcibly held my consciousness back.
The way Blaze called my name was so gentle, so tender. How could he speak to me in such a voice after killing our parents and wounding me? I lifted my heavy eyelids. A face identical to mine was close. Blaze knelt on one knee, sitting beside me.
“You knew you’d die, yet you still charged forward like that? Is it because you’re loved?”
Through the haze of my vision, past the rhythmic pounding that thundered in my ears, Blaze’s voice seeped through. My mind had clearly stopped functioning—I couldn’t comprehend his words at all. I wanted to ask what he meant, and my lips moved soundlessly in the attempt.
Blaze was different from me. He was the heir who would inherit everything the Lilywood Dukedom possessed. Simply by being born a little earlier, he had grasped it all.
My parents’ expectations, their love. Not that I’d ever dared to hope for such things. I simply wanted to be by their side—to feel the warmth of their large hands stroking my head, the comfort of their embrace, the quiet moments we shared over tea. All the things I’d surrendered because I was the ill-fated twin. All the things Blaze enjoyed as if they were his birthright. That was all I’d ever wanted.
“What does it feel like to be loved?”
Blaze’s eyes crinkled as he laughed—a soft, mocking sound that scattered across my ears. Why was he doing this? I wanted to ask, but though my lips trembled, no sound escaped.
He smiled as if asking, ‘Do you want to know?’ but I lacked the strength even to confirm that smile.
“The good, adorable Aster who’s loved by everyone. If it had been me instead of you who killed the servant, would they have even suggested changing the heir?”
My green eyes widened, clouded with pain. I forced my sluggish mind to work. So Blaze faced the threat of losing his position as heir. Because he’d killed the servant.
“If you hadn’t coveted my position, none of this would have happened, Aster.”
That’s not true. I never coveted anything like that.
I envied him, yes. But I couldn’t help it. I wanted to be loved—to be by my parents’ side without any of the restrictions that bound me, the way Blaze was.
Twins were ill-fated. Especially the younger sibling who jealously pursued and drove away the elder. Because of the ancient legend that they destroyed everything, people regarded twins with disdain. I was that younger sibling. Even my parents, who loved me dearly, and the servants of the Duke’s Mansion couldn’t shield me from such eyes.
My parents raised me in hiding. It was suffocating not to venture outside, but I could endure it. I needed only my parents’ love and the servants’ affection.
But once I grew too old to be secretly raised within the house, I had to leave for the Military Academy. I could only return during holidays, and even then, under the pretense of a visiting relative, with my hood pulled deep to hide my face’s resemblance to Blaze’s.
When I was by my parents’ side, I could truly feel their love. Perhaps that’s why I envied Blaze even more. When Mother asked me to attend a social gathering in Blaze’s place, tears streaming down her face, when I saw Father’s hardened expression—I nodded without asking why, hoping that doing so would make me loved even more.
Of course, Blaze must have resented it. I could feel it in the way his eyes followed me—when I returned from those gatherings, he wouldn’t speak to me, only glared from a distance with eyes the same shade of green as mine.
I hated that gaze. Those eyes that possessed everything I envied, yet refused to share even the smallest chance of being loved.
I deliberately ignored Blaze. After attending those gatherings in his place, my parents seemed to treat me even better, perhaps out of guilt. I craved that warmth. If only I had been born first instead of him. I can’t count how many futile fantasies I’ve indulged in. Of course, I was well aware of how meaningless they were.
I never coveted the position of heir. From birth, it was decided that it wasn’t mine. Yet they tried to make me heir. As I struggled to grasp my slipping consciousness, I muttered that I couldn’t believe it.

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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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