Chapter 22

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Engaged to the Blind Duke
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"So, did you win?"

Marin finally puffed out her chest proudly.

She hadn't won, but she hadn't lost either. She was definitely sure she'd landed more hits.

"I didn't lose."

"You have to win. Not losing isn't enough for someone under me."

"Those maids are under you too, aren't they, Your Grace?"

The Duke pretended not to hear her words and calmly called for Olive with a composed expression.

"Olive. The dressing room."

"Yes."

Marin listened to their conversation and felt that sense of déjà vu again.

The feeling of being left out of her own business?

"Your Grace. You're not doing this because of my dress, are you?"

"Olive. Leave us."

He neatly ignored her words and gave the order to Olive.

"Yes, Your Grace."

Olive gave a crisp bow and exited.

Marin gazed wistfully at his retreating back.

Take me with you.

Once Olive closed the door behind him, an awkward silence settled over the study.

"What now?"

It was a long while before the Duke finally spoke.

"Pardon?"

"Aren't you going to work?"

"Can I read a book?"

"I'm not a coward..."

He said in a petulant tone.

Marin froze for a moment, her eyes widening.

No way, he didn't hear me call him a coward, did he? No, he couldn't have. Please, he didn't.

Marin prayed desperately in her mind.

"I told you I hate hearing the same thing repeated."

"Yes, I'll read it now!"

She was just about to open the fairy tale book when she realized her wrist was still gripped in his hand.

"My hand..."

The Duke naturally released her hand and leaned back loosely in his chair.

"Here we go. Once upon a time, there was an emperor praised by all his subjects."

"That's a lie."

He pointed it out sharply.

Marin pretended not to hear and continued reading from the fairy tale book.

"His subjects loved the emperor dearly."

"A lie."

I can't hear you. I can't hear you.

"The emperor also loved his people and showered them with mercy."

"A lie as well."

Marin set the fairy tale book aside and narrowed her eyes as she stared fixedly at the Duke.

***

"Should I stop reading?"

"Why?"

"You don't seem ready to listen."

"Impossible. I'm not a coward."

"Wow, holding a grudge..."

Marin whispered to herself in the tiniest voice imaginable.

Whoever overheard and tattled to the Duke wouldn't be forgiven.

"What?"

"I didn't say anything."

"Continue."

"The emperor had a very beautiful empress. There was just one problem in their otherwise happy life. The emperor and empress had no heirs. Every night, they prayed to the gods."

Marin paused there to catch her breath.

This was about when the Duke would usually interrupt.

When no reaction came even after she waited, Marin cleared her throat and resumed reading the fairy tale book.

Please fall asleep.

As she read on, she found herself getting lost in the story too.

She grieved with the beautiful princess in her plight, rejoiced when she met the prince from a distant land, and felt her heart swell at the scene where the princess and prince departed together at the end.

"And so, the two set off for a faraway place and lived happily ever after."

Marin carefully closed the fairy tale book.

The space, already quiet to begin with, now felt utterly still. Marin lowered her gaze and sneaked a peek at the Duke.

He was leaning back in his chair without the slightest movement.

Is he asleep?

I hope he's really asleep.

"Good night."

Marin whispered so faintly, afraid her voice might wake him.

She clutched the fairy tale book tightly and was just turning to leave when her eyes caught on something atop his desk.

A thin, elongated silver letter opener.

No way. Her heart pounded as she quickly checked his ear. Fortunately, there was no blood this time.

Marin gave the Duke one more glance with a look of pity.

What if he uses that again? Should I steal it and hide it?

She pondered only briefly before shaking her head. She couldn't go from spy to thief.

Marin cast a reluctant glance at the letter opener before stepping away.

* * *

Ten days' ride on horseback from the western reaches of the Oman Empire brought one to the endless expanse of the Sairan Desert.

Nestled between the Sanders Empire and the Oman Empire, the Sairan Desert teemed with thousands of species of monsters.

Ironically, it was thanks to those monsters that the two empires had forged a pact not to invade each other.

A century had passed since that pact. As research on the desert's monsters flourished, so too did trade routes across the desert connecting the two empires.

The duty of repelling monsters spilling out from the desert fell to House Vines in the west. Battling the monsters each season to enable desert trade was also their role.

Having finally concluded a grueling fortnight-long battle against the desert monsters, Duke Gerald, the Vines Knights, and the soldiers were crossing the mountains on their way back to the territory.

However, the scouts they'd sent ahead hadn't returned. Nor had those sent to find them.

They were inevitably forced to halt short of their campsite. Unease was spreading among the weary soldiers.

Silently watching the scene, Gerald called to a knight at the rear.

"Handers."

"Yes. Just give the order."

Handers replied in a nasally voice, congested from a cold, as he bowed at the waist.

"No matter what you see, don't rush in to help. Just assess quickly and report back."

"Yes."

Gerald dispatched Handers—his quickest and sharpest subordinate—once more as a scout.

***

Not long after, Handers came galloping back with a grave expression.

"Your Grace, you need to see this for yourself."

Dismounting, Gerald followed Handers.

Deep into the forest, a beautiful flower field soon unfolded before them.

Vibrant flowers as tall as a person wafted a sweet fragrance. Amid the cloyingly sweet scent mingled an odd smell that made his nose sting; Gerald forcibly numbed his sense of smell.

"You told me not to act rashly, so I turned back the moment I spotted them acting drunk."

The soldiers were dancing clumsily before the flowers. Had they not staggered like drunks, he too might have admired the flowers' beauty.

Then, one soldier approached a flower.

The flower seemed to welcome him, gently caressing him with its petals. As the soldier drew closer still, the flower's crimson innards tore open wide.

It was a monster in the shape of a flower.

The monster flower swallowed the soldier whole.

Handers, watching beside him, gasped in shock, breathing raggedly.

Gerald stared at Handers next to him. The cold had saved him.

"Go inform everyone. It's a monster that attacks via scent. Tell them all to plug their noses, avoid the fragrance, and keep their distance."

"Yes."

Handers swiftly pinched his nose as he replied.

"And have everyone wait at the rear."

Handers's eyes widened in surprise as he looked at him.

"Your Grace, there are too many monsters."

"Who can fight with a hand over their nose?"

Gerald, who could freely control his sense of smell, drew his sword.

The first thing knights learned when training with the sword was breathing techniques. Breathing was crucial for them.

"Not even a whiff of the scent. Bring anyone who can manage that."

"Yes."

Handers bowed deeply and turned to dash back. It was possible only because of his unwavering faith in the Duke.

The monster flowers were distributed as if guarding the center. As Gerald approached slowly, the petals fluttered temptingly toward him.

When he showed no interest, the flowers began emitting a kaleidoscope of fragrances.