The Murderous Duke's Domestic Affairs - Chapter 44

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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 44
“Sit.”
Hale bowed his head slightly toward Aster before settling into the seat across from him. Two men faced each other across a modest round table. Hale’s shoulders hunched as he smiled—a habit, it seemed. Yet there was no trace of fear in him; his sky-blue eyes remained fixed on Aster, as though he meant to divine his thoughts.
“I-I apologize. This place is so… I’m not sure what to offer you.”
“Unnecessary. I didn’t come here for pleasantries.”
Even at Aster’s low, fierce tone, Hale merely hunched his shoulders and laughed—a soft, harmless sound. No other reaction. Garnet had described him as timid, yet Aster found this demeanor unexpected. Reports, however reliable, could never capture the full measure of a person. Lauren herself proved that. Fragile and delicate as she appeared, the woman Aster had come to know possessed an iron will.
“I sent word by letter beforehand, but a matter like this truly demands a face-to-face conversation.”
“Y-yes, of course.”
Aster had assumed that Trace Siaz’s son would bristle at his proposal—much as Delania Siaz had shown hostility toward Lauren. He’d expected the same from Hale.
But the news Garnet brought contradicted his expectations. Aster glanced up at Garnet, who stood nearby. Garnet was responsible and capable, yet ruthlessly cold toward those he deemed adversaries. That he had persuaded Hale seemed unlikely; therefore, Hale had come of his own volition.
What was he thinking? Aster burned with the same curiosity.
“Spare me the formalities. We have much to discuss, and the night is short.”
Probing others, unraveling their secrets—it had never suited his nature. Aster reclined against his chair, his fingers raking through his loosened hair with unconscious roughness. Normally, when he showed displeasure, others froze in place. But Hale merely straightened his posture. Unlike anyone else Aster had encountered.
In that way, too, Hale resembled Lauren. It made him want to hope—that perhaps Hale might see not the “murderer,” but “Aster Veil Lilywood.” That he might not recoil at rudeness, as Lauren did not.
Aster felt a hollow laugh rise within him. These days, his thoughts drifted to Lauren at every moment. Had he lost his mind? He knew better than anyone that he had no right to such indulgence. Yet what could he do? This was not his fault. Lauren was simply too captivating.
“Your presence here means you’ve accepted my proposal, I take it?”
If he immersed himself in work, her shadow would naturally fade—even if that work concerned her.
“B-before that, I… I w-wanted to ask you s-something.”
Hale’s gentle expression hardened slightly. He had accepted the meeting readily enough, yet clearly something weighed on him. Aster tilted his head askew and nodded. He would answer anything. There was nothing he could not say.
“D-Duke, how d-do you… view L-Lauren?”
But the question left Aster speechless. He stared at the man across from him, his lips immobile. Had Hale grown nervous after asking? His stammering had intensified.
The light was not harsh, yet those sky-blue eyes gleamed. Though their color differed, they resembled Lauren’s so closely that meeting his gaze became difficult. Aster lowered his eyes to the empty table. It took considerable effort to suppress the sigh that threatened to escape.
“Lauren is…”
He had to choose his words carefully. He could not believe that Garnet, whom he had raised himself, served Blaze’s interests, yet caution remained wise. If he misspoke here and revealed his heart—something he could not even confess to her—he would be a fool indeed to speak it first to her brother.
“Lauren is a remarkable person. Capable, resilient.”
Soft and delicate in appearance, yet possessed of a will stronger than anyone’s. So dazzling that he could not bear to look directly, yet unable to turn away.
Aster’s hand, resting on the armrest, clenched into a fist. It was not love. Because he did not possess it, because he should not possess it, he merely coveted it. How many times had he repeated this to himself since Blaze discovered his feelings? Yet whenever he faced Lauren, the words he had branded into his mind like self-hypnosis melted away. His gaze inevitably followed her. Though he had told himself countless times that it must not.
“Why do you ask such a thing?”
So he turned the question back on Hale. The smile that had lingered at Hale’s lips froze momentarily.
“F-forgive me for s-such an impertinent question. It’s j-just that I…”
Hale drew a deep breath. The exhale trembled slightly. Aster waited in silence for his words. Though he recognized this as uncharacteristic of a “murderer,” he had no wish to pressure someone who saw him as an ordinary man.
“I j-just want L-Lauren to be h-happy. I kn-know it’s not my p-place to worry, but…”
Hale, who had seemed composed until now, began to stammer severely. His breathing quickened. Aster’s brow furrowed deeply. At his swift glance, Garnet poured water from the bottle sitting on the table and handed it to Hale. Hale grasped the cup with both trembling hands and drained it in one desperate gulp—like a dying man drinking the waters of life. His urgency was palpable.
“I-I apologize for s-such an unseemly d-display. I kn-know it’s p-pathetic, but… I c-cannot help it.”
Hale’s hand shook as he wiped the water from his lips with his sleeve. A single cup of water was not enough to calm him.
“Why do you concern yourself with such things?”
After waiting for his breathing to steady, Aster asked once more. The question might have seemed unpleasant, yet Hale showed no displeasure—only smiled in return.
“B-because Lauren s-suffered because of h-her family.”
With a deeply furrowed brow, Hale smiled, his lips trembling. Aster found himself unable to twist his lips as he always did. Hale’s pale lips looked terribly wounded. Yet no one could stop him from speaking.
“I kn-know Father was… c-cruel. But even s-so, I c-could not help that ch-child. I was t-too weak…”
Hale seemed to want to say more, but he closed his mouth instead. Then he drew in a deep breath. His shoulders trembled at the end of a long, drawn-out sigh, his eyes squeezed shut.
“I’m s-sorry. I d-didn’t think you c-came here to h-hear such things.”
Hale smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Aster’s eyes narrowed faintly. That was a forced smile—a facade constructed to mask any other expression, the kind worn when twisting one’s lips into a grin. Another person might not have noticed, but Aster could see it. This man had endured quite a painful time as well. Though Aster could only speculate as to the details.
Hale rose from his seat and returned with a bag he’d left in a corner of the room. The way he half-cradled it suggested it contained something of considerable importance. Only after taking a deep breath to steady himself did he place its contents on the table. It was a neat stack of documents.
Hale said nothing, but Aster reached out and took them. The documents, organized in elegant handwriting, were substantial in number, yet his fingers moved swiftly as he turned each page. His sunken green eyes traced across the text with sharp precision. Only after Aster set the documents down did Hale exhale softly.
“J-just in c-case something l-like this m-might happen, I p-prepared them. The m-more detailed r-records are s-stored separately, th-though.”
His voice was halting and fragmented, a stark contrast to the neatly organized documents and the gentle script that filled them. His sky-blue eyes wavered uncertainly, as if laying bare the turmoil in his heart. His hands, resting quietly on his lap, were clenched with tension.
The documents Hale had produced contained the cruel—or rather, unspeakable—deeds of his family laid bare. Detailed dates, the parties who had commissioned the acts, the sums paid. And beyond that, even the history of Trace Siaz before and after he inherited the marquis title.
Hale tilted his head slightly to one side, his gentle smile never wavering, yet it hardly appeared comforting. Why would he create such a thing and hand it over? Perhaps it was guilt—guilt toward Lauren.
The man from Garnet’s report who had tried to sell Lauren into servitude to become a knight, and the Hale now before Aster’s eyes, were utterly different people. Aster sighed inwardly. He had been far more shallow than the people in that report, judging them by documents alone.
“W-when I r-received the l-letter you s-sent, Your G-Grace, I th-thought… this w-was the m-moment.”
He stood and turned, unbuttoning his shirt. Across his exposed shoulders, back, and torso—indeed, across nearly his entire body—old scars and fresh wounds remained.
He laughed, saying he knew it wasn’t a pleasant sight, that he was deeply ashamed of his father’s deeds. He said he wished he had been Emel Siaz’s son instead, that he wanted to be like him.
His stammer, too, came from Trace. Trace had attributed even the evidence of the abuse he himself had inflicted to Hale’s inadequacy, wearing his shame like a badge.
Trace Siaz was not a man suited to be Marquis, Hale said. Since Trace had taken the title, the Territory that Emel Siaz and Lauren had carefully cultivated for so long had withered in mere moments, and the lives of its people had grown harder. To one who wished to be like Emel Siaz, this was painfully clear. So when he received Aster’s letter, he was overjoyed.
He could provide the people of Siaz Territory with an excellent lord, and return the Marquis title to Lauren.
Aster pressed his lips firmly together. Hale Siaz had defied his expectations in many ways, but one thing was certain: Hale resembled neither his father nor his sister. Unless, as he had wished, he resembled his Uncle, Emel Siaz.

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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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