The Murderous Duke's Domestic Affairs - Chapter 38

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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 38
“That idiot said it. That I’d be better suited as the heir than you, with all your savagery.”
Blaze laughed as he recounted how he’d drawn his sword in fury and killed the man for those mere words. Just for that single remark. I wanted to cover my ears, but I couldn’t. They say hearing is the last sense to remain when a person dies. Perhaps that’s why, even though I could barely manage shallow, gasping breaths with only my eyes fluttering, Blaze’s voice reached me with unbearable clarity.
“Just for something like that….”
At my thin, breathless voice, Blaze’s expression shifted. His eyes, which held a faint blue tint compared to mine, flashed a brilliant blue.
“Just? You dare speak of ‘just’?”
Blaze seized my collar as I lay on the ground and dragged me upward. His rough grip cut off the breath I’d barely been holding. I gasped and choked, starved for air.
My vision darkened. My unfocused eyes sank into blackness. Blood, tears, and saliva stained my face, but Blaze didn’t release his grip.
“Wasn’t it enough that you stole my name? Do you need to take the heir’s position too to satisfy yourself?”
Ah, so that’s what he believed—that I’d stolen from him. As darkness closed in and my breath failed, my mind paradoxically sharpened, burning with one final flame. Bitter laughter mixed with rising rage.
A name—what was that worth? If I’d been in Blaze’s position, I could have gladly used his name. I could have lived without yearning for my parents, without being sent away to the Military Academy after a brief stay, without standing in a place that wasn’t mine, receiving only love.
Crash!
My head struck the floor. The hand choking me vanished, and air rushed in all at once. My body convulsed in agony, but now I felt nothing—no pain at all. Perhaps if I let go of everything, I’d find peace. But I couldn’t.
I forced myself to rise. Tears streaming down my face, I pushed myself up. I didn’t care if I died—I wanted to leave an indelible wound on Blaze, who had so casually slaughtered those I loved and the servants who’d been like family.
“You’re just like those people. Disappear, Aster. Disappear with them!”
Blaze’s blue-tinged green eyes blazed with madness, shining a brilliant blue. He swung his sword toward me. With what strength remained, I gripped my blade and thrust it toward his arm as he moved to strike me down.
* * *
I dreamed of that day. I rose from my bed. Such brief sleep—it brought no rest. My sins wouldn’t even allow that slumber to be peaceful.
Outside the window, darkness still reigned. I forced myself to erase the dream that had faithfully recreated that day’s horrors, then stumbled to a long chair and sat. I felt as though I needed a drink to clear my head, but I lacked the energy to reach the cabinet. I rubbed my eyes, then ran my fingers through my hair and leaned back against the chair.
After a long, thin sigh, I let out a hollow laugh. I was certainly not in my right mind. My hand gripped my forearm tightly. There, etched in the same black as Blaze’s, was a thorny curse mark—a binding spell that connected my twin brother and me, two who had tried to kill each other.
As long as this mark existed, Blaze could not take another’s life. I knew this better than anyone, yet I’d lost my composure at a single word from him.
Perhaps it was because Blaze had spoken Lauren’s name. Now I could no longer deny it. Yes, I love Lauren.
But I couldn’t say it aloud. Everything I’d loved and cherished had already been destroyed.
I couldn’t remain as I was. I needed a plan. I lowered my head and took a deep breath. Blaze had said he was watching me. That meant someone within the Estate served as his eyes and hands. First, I had to find that connection. And I had to distance myself from Lauren.
Blaze was cruel—a man who hurt others without understanding it was wrong. Of course, now he was bound by the curse and couldn’t take lives, but he could still inflict pain. To spare myself from witnessing that, I’d ensured he couldn’t meet anyone else in his confinement in the Forbidden Zone. Yet somehow, Blaze already knew who Lauren was, what kind of person she was.
The thorn curse binding Blaze and me prevented us from harming each other. And it confined Blaze to darkness. He could only move through half the Estate—the Forbidden Zone where the lights were extinguished.
Yet he’d left that zone. He’d passed through corridors where the lights never went out and met Lauren. She didn’t know someone identical to me existed, so she couldn’t have suspected. Perhaps he’d even infiltrated her room. Of course, Blaze alone couldn’t have managed that, but with someone helping him, it would have been simple.
My thoughts circled back to the beginning. Who was helping Blaze? I didn’t have the strength to expose them immediately. Then there was only one way to remove Lauren from Blaze’s sight: I simply wouldn’t meet her. If things went well, Blaze would naturally lose interest in her.
As my thoughts organized themselves, the dizziness in my head subsided. I rose and retrieved a bottle from the cabinet, pouring it full into a glass. After draining it in one gulp, my gaze fell on the calendar on the desk. The date marked in blue ink wasn’t far off, but I had no time to wait. I needed to accelerate my plans. I’d originally intended to proceed slowly after telling Lauren, wanting to help her. But now that Blaze knew of her, I couldn’t stop at merely helping.
Lauren had tried to become a duchess to escape Trace Siaz’s grasp. That meant if I returned the Siaz Marquis Title to her, she would no longer need to be a duchess. Once she became Marquis Siaz and returned to her territory, Blaze—confined to the Estate—couldn’t pursue her further.
My lips twisted. The fool who hadn’t even recognized his own feelings had reached a conclusion the moment he understood them: he had to keep her at a distance. There was no choice. I couldn’t bear to lose anything precious to Blaze’s hands again.
I drank another glass. Then, taking the bottle itself, I returned to the long chair. The night was long, but sleep was beyond me now. Not since that dream—no amount of alcohol or medicine could bring sleep.
The remaining night was short.
There was much to do. I had to think, decide, plan. I glanced briefly at the still-dark world outside, then ran my fingers through my hair.
* * *
I stared at the letter envelope in my hand. The ornate envelope, decorated with lace at its edges, bore a seal of red mixed with gold that announced its presence. The moment I’d decided to keep my distance, this arrived. I threw the envelope onto the low table with a bitter laugh. My hand was rough as I ran it through my hair.
“What is the matter, sir?”
Letti asked without reading the room. His youthful face, which I’d watched since childhood, hadn’t changed much, yet somehow I felt anger rising. I knew I shouldn’t take it out on him, but his carefree expression infuriated me. Here I am, my mind heavy with concerns, and he looks so at ease.
“A letter from the Imperial Court. Another summons, perhaps?”
“A letter from the Imperial Court. Am I being summoned again?”
“I’m not sure.”
Letti Torres leaned forward to examine the letter on the table, then turned to me with a question. I reclined against the back of the long chair, my voice languid as I murmured in response.
Perhaps it was the thought that I needed to calm myself—my body moved unconsciously, yet despite my unhurried tone, a sharp, cutting aura emanated from every fiber of my being. The kind of presence one saw only in the heart of a battlefield. Letti Torres, who had spoken to me so casually, flinched and drew his shoulders inward. As my loyal adjutant and one of the finest soldiers who had crossed countless battlefields at my side, he could not simply turn away from an aura he could not ignore.
What could be the matter? Letti Torres had seemed in good spirits not long ago. His blue eyes darted about, studying me carefully. He had no desire to provoke a superior in a foul mood and suffer the consequences. Even now that the war had ended and I handled administrative duties, I still commanded people with military discipline. He was eager to graduate from marching drills in the training grounds.
How long had he been reading my expression? A soft, careful knock sounded at the thick office door.
Letti Torres brightened inwardly. Only one person in this mansion knocked on the door in that manner. It was Lauren, the Duchess of Lilywood, whom I indulged with unusual leniency. He hoped she would dissolve this tense atmosphere. Letti Torres hurried to open the door.
“I’m sorry—am I late?”
Letti Torres glanced at the clock. Lauren was right. The Duchess, who had taken a harmful medicine at the last Imperial Ball and remained bedridden for a long time, had recovered completely, or so it was said, but on my orders she received treatment from Maili every morning.
Naturally, work had started later than usual, but today the arrival at the office was even more delayed than normal. Through the doorway, Letti Torres’s gaze caught sight of a wheeled cart.
“Oh, did you bring it yourself, ma’am?”
Surely Calvin Stewart or another servant should have wheeled it here. Yet beyond the door, there was no one but Lauren. Somehow, the aura I felt emanating from behind me grew increasingly ominous. A chill ran down my spine—I felt as though cold sweat might break out.
But Lauren, oblivious to such things, still wore her gentle, smiling face. Letti Torres hastily placed his hand on the tray atop the cart. The cloche-covered plate and tea set were still warm, yet he could not bring himself to say so. My superior seemed irritated that my wife had personally wheeled the cart. He must not add fuel to the fire.
“Calvin said it wouldn’t work, but I was stubborn and insisted on bringing it myself.”
Lauren answered with a smile as Letti Torres deftly set down what he held onto the table. I crossed my arms and glared at the plate that had arrived on the table. As Lauren removed the metal cloche, beautifully cut toast came into view. It had just been brought, steam rising gently from it.
“Wow, what is this?”
Letti Torres’s blue eyes widened. A savory aroma filled the office. In the cross-section of the egg-battered, toasted bread, ham and cheese peeked out. Lauren chuckled softly as she poured coffee from the teapot into a cup.

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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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