The Murderous Duke's Domestic Affairs - Chapter 45

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 45
What had Hale been thinking as he made his way to see me? If I had been someone intent on harming Lauren, how would he have reacted?
I studied his quiet, sky-blue eyes carefully. They were as unwavering as his character itself—steady and resolute. Though their color differed, they held the same commanding gaze that resembled Lauren’s, or perhaps more accurately, Emel Siaz’s before her.
“What would you do if I sought to usurp the Marquis title from Lauren?”
The upright former Marquis Siaz. The virtuous, trusting Lauren. I had grown fond of them both. That was precisely why I hoped Hale, who resembled them, would not be wounded. Yet I possessed no talent for gentle words. I had forgotten such things long ago. So I cast sharp words needlessly instead. But Hale’s gaze remained unshaken. I waited quietly for his response.
“If, if Your Grace harbored such, such intentions, you would not have, have sent such a letter in the first place.”
Hale laughed softly, saying he did have an eye for people. Perhaps that was why he had come to dislike Trace Siaz even more, he smiled—and his face bore a striking resemblance to the former Marquis Siaz and Lauren alike.
For reasons I could not fathom, I found myself voicing that very thought aloud. Hale’s face brightened with genuine delight as he smiled at me.
“Is there documentation to prove this?”
I withdrew a single sheet from among countless documents and turned it toward Hale. His sky-blue eyes widened before curving into crescents—the exact expression Lauren wore when praising him during lessons. I might have expected to feel irritated, as though being tested, yet strangely I did not. I found myself growing increasingly lenient toward Hale. Simply because he resembled Lauren.
“That, that is a v, very important d, document, so I, I set it aside s, separately. Just in c, case, you see.”
He said that had I harbored malice and demanded to see it, he would have stopped me even at the cost of his life. When I countered that if the “Reaper” killed him, such precautions would be meaningless, he replied he had entrusted it to someone trustworthy. Hale added that if he did not return to his territory, Trace Siaz’s accusation would only accumulate further charges against me.
He resembled Emel Siaz and claimed to have learned directly from him—his mind was as sharp as Lauren’s. Though he stammered somewhat in speech, his documents were flawless. Hale seemed to be a capable person in every way, no less competent than Lauren. I did not dislike such people. Perhaps that was why the wry smile twisting my lips did not displease me. I should have been angry at the “Reaper’s” jest, yet I found myself without such inclination.
“You did well. There’s no harm in being cautious.”
Instead, I uttered something unnecessary. I could not prevent my lips from twisting. So I turned my gaze toward the documents.
Hale’s handwriting flowed in straight, elegant curves—so utterly different from my own crude, sprawling script. They say handwriting reveals one’s character. A person capable of writing like that was surely far wiser and more capable than someone as incomplete as myself.
I laughed with furrowed brows. In truth, even if I had become a soldier, I had wished to become someone capable of writing such elegant script. Yet here I was, reduced to this.
“So when might I receive this evidence you speak of?”
Indulging in idle thoughts was something I could do when alone. Now I needed to focus on the task at hand. I asked Hale while keeping my gaze on the documents. Perhaps because the goal of restoring the Marquis title to Lauren drew near, my heart had grown impatient. I realized anew that my tone had become sharp, as though pressing him. Fortunately, Hale seemed entirely unbothered.
“Ah, w, while Father is in the C, Capital, I am m, making copies. Once the c, copies are c, completed, it can be done at any t, time.”
“Evidence must be the original, not a copy.”
“Of c, course I u, understand that much. The c, copies will be s, stored in Father’s s, safe instead of the o, original.”
Trace Siaz was suspicious by nature and never discarded documents. He merely hoarded them in his study’s safe, unable to trust others. Hale had deliberately angered his father to remain in Siaz Territory. Besides, even if he had not, they would never have brought such a stammering, timid person to the Imperial Ball hosted by the court, Hale said with self-deprecation.
From what I observed, Hale was not timid but rather thoughtful. Moreover, despite his slight stammer, his soft brown hair, sky-blue eyes, and composed demeanor were enough to win others’ favor.
But Trace did not see it that way. Hale’s stammer had developed due to Trace’s pressure and abuse. It was perhaps only natural that he harbored resentment toward his father.
And now that he knew his father was entangled in the death of his great-uncle, Emel Siaz—the man he respected and admired above all others.
The contract left behind to ensure the hired mercenary would not “betray” him was being kept so carefully it might strangle his own neck. As though playing a jest, Hale winked at me. Yet that gaze held no joy whatsoever. His sky-blue eyes sank into the depths.
* * *
Time flows relentlessly. Though I have not set much in motion, I cannot fathom why I am so busy. I swept my loosened hair back roughly. Lauren’s violet eyes kept turning toward me with concern, but I could not tell her of this uncertain plan to restore the Marquis title to her. Besides, if I was being honest, I did wish to see her surprised face.
And I could not forget the dinner with the Imperial family. Today was the day to make final confirmations of formal attire for both myself and Lauren. Perhaps because I had attended gatherings for so long wearing nothing but a shirt, the tedious protocol requiring old-fashioned formal dress at Imperial Palace invitations irritated me. Yet there was no choice. I had to present the image of the “Reaper who became human upon meeting his beloved.”
“She has arrived from Aloria, sir.”
Calvin knocked at precisely the right moment. At his announcement of Jasmine Aloria’s visit, I rose from my seat and exhaled a sigh. Hearing my sigh, Letti let out a soft chuckle. Displeased, I turned a sharp gaze toward my adjutant. Lauren, who had been about to follow me, called out my name in reproach.
“It’s because you keep saying yes to everything that he acts like that.”
I found myself grumbling despite knowing the opposite was true. Letti had been with me since we were roughly ten years old. My childhood companion, assigned against my will, had naturally accompanied me through the Military Academy, through wars where lives hung in the balance.
I did not know whether Letti had wanted this or not. Yet he had stood by my side for so very long. If I were to call anyone a friend, it would be Letti. He was the only one I could grumble to, and the only one who would accept my complaints.
Letti was a commoner. His parents were servants at the Duke’s Mansion. Torres was a kind gardener, and his wife was a cook who often prepared sweets for me.
I did not realize it then, but looking back now, they were truly remarkable people. They had treated my ignorant, innocent childhood self with such kindness.
And Blaze—my own brother, no one else—had killed such people. My sunken green eyes glanced briefly at Letti, who was organizing documents with a smiling face, then looked away. Letti was indeed worthy of being called the son of the Torres couple.
I could not forgive Blaze for taking my parents from me. That hatred and resentment had turned inward, toward myself—toward this face so identical to his. I had grown out the golden hair I once kept short and neat to appear the same as him. But I could only mimic the outward gentleness; I could not replicate his manner of looking down on others. I could not manage to hide my true feelings and smile prettily with his face. Naturally, I came to avoid people. A twisted, forced smile became fixed upon my face.
Before going to war, when I could not properly control my emotions, I had smashed mirrors and windows wherever I saw my own reflection, consumed by hatred for myself. Then came the guilt of having done the same thing as Blaze, and I sank ever deeper.
How could Letti still stand by his side when he himself was the sibling of a true “murderer”? Aster had been a victim, yet simultaneously a perpetrator. Being an identical twin to Blaze meant exactly that. At the side of a man who could not forgive himself, Letti showed the same affection as before.
In the early days after it happened, there were times when he had clung to Aster in tears, and times when he had shouted at him to take revenge on himself instead.
But the resilient Letti simply shook his head and refused his pleas. He grasped the hand of a man sinking into despair and pulled him out, saying it was alright, and smiled with a bright face like in childhood.
Letti was truly a strong person—strong enough to hold onto Aster even on the battlefield where he had nearly thrown his life away in reckless abandon. He was a true older brother figure, supporting him far more than Blaze ever could.
“Safe travels, sir.”
Just before leaving the room, Letti, whose eyes met his, smiled with the corners of his eyes crinkling. His blue eyes shone softly.
Aster nodded with a rigid expression and closed the office door. A sigh escaped him without his realizing it. There was a time when Lauren had gently asked Aster if he wasn’t being too rough with Letti.
Did it appear that way to others’ eyes? In truth, he relied on Letti more than anyone. A faint bitter smile formed at the corner of Aster’s lips.
Perhaps it would be better to treat him a bit more gently. Long ago, he seemed to have apologized and expressed gratitude willingly.
But Aster could not do something so sudden now. That’s right, now of all times. It had been long since he could read what Letti was thinking just by meeting his eyes.
To escort Lauren to the reception room, Aster extended his hand to her. Lauren looked up at him with an expression suggesting she had something to say, but he averted his gaze. Even as he felt her persistent stare following him.
This marriage was born of necessity, after all. Aster repeated to himself words he had recited countless times before. So he had no intention of telling Lauren everything. Whatever she thought upon seeing Letti, whatever expression she wore, Aster would pretend not to notice.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————