Chapter 62

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 62
Chapter Title: Engaged to the Blind Duke
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He thought that if she kept living like that, cursing him all the while, she would eventually come crawling back to beg for his forgiveness.

Patiently, he waited for that day.

Even after getting engaged to the daughter of a viscount family that had inherited the title and amassed considerable wealth, he still had someone monitoring Marin and receiving reports about her from time to time.

She was still living in poverty, miserably as ever.

Then one day, out of nowhere, Marin vanished. And two months later, she reappeared as the Duke's fiancée.

It was absurd. He was furious, on the verge of madness.

Marin should have been groveling at the very bottom, begging to be taken as even a concubine.

In his rage, while the Duke was away from the hall, he approached Marin.

The Marin he met again hadn't changed a bit, which was ridiculous. Despite committing such a grave offense against him, she showed not the slightest sign of remorse.

She even demanded an apology from him.

To make matters worse, in the middle of his conversation with Marin, his fiancée Christine butted in. If only Christine hadn't drawn attention, none of this would have happened.

Gervim glared at Christine, who stood trembling beside him.

Feeling his gaze, Christine reached out tentatively with teary brown eyes, trying to grab hold of him.

Gervim coldly brushed her hand away.

He could see her eyes widen as if asking how he could ignore her like this.

Seeing her shocked expression paradoxically calmed Gervim down, and he cleared his throat.

"Your Grace the Duke, please dispel this misunderstanding. Marin and I have been acquaintances for a long time; I was simply offering congratulations. I apologize for the disturbance at the party caused by my fiancée's misunderstanding."

As he bowed his head in apology, Gervim smirked where no one else could see.

By calling her "Marin" directly, he made a show of their familiarity.

Now that Marin was the Duke's fiancée, she wouldn't dare bring up their past if she had any sense.

He had clearly pinned all the commotion on his fiancée, so he could slip away unscathed.

"Marin?"

The Duke's voice was chilling.

As the Duke extended his hand to the side, the cane embedded in the pillar flew swiftly back into his grasp.

At that mystical sight, people looked at him with awe or fear.

The Duke took a single step forward. It was just one step, but the immense pressure forced Gervim's head to bow even lower.

Damn it. Had calling her name been a mistake?

The Duke stopped in front of Gervim and struck his cane against the marble floor.

Boom! The resounding thud made Gervim flinch in terror, and he quickly apologized.

"I-I'm sorry."

As Gervim tried to lift his head to explain again, he froze in shock. It felt as though someone was pressing down on his head. His body wouldn't obey him. Sweat poured down like rain.

"What are you sorry for?"

The Duke asked calmly, but Gervim was terrified, his back drenched.

"I-I called Your Grace's fiancée by her given name so casually. Our fathers, the late Viscount Schwenz and mine, were close friends, so our families were on intimate terms. It was my mistake. I'm sorry."

Gervim felt like he was dying. The pressure on his back felt like someone riding him, bending his waist further and further.

His gaze involuntarily dropped to the floor, where he saw the Duke's gleaming black shoes.

When had the Duke gotten so close?

"You can't even tell who to apologize to."

"Pardon?"

Gervim wanted to look up and gauge the Duke's expression, but his body wouldn't budge.

"You still haven't grasped the situation."

"Ugh."

Crushed by the overwhelming force, Gervim's body sank lower until his knees hit the floor. Then he was forced face-down.

Thud.

***

His forehead slammed into the marble floor, swelling red. His body was completely beyond his control.

"Now that looks like a proper apology."

"Your Grace the Duke! I-I'm sorry. I was wrong. Your Grace, please forgive me..."

"You still haven't realized who those words are for?"

The Duke's emotionless voice thundered in his ears.

Could it be? A suspicion arose in his mind.

Did the Duke know everything?

How? Had Marin confessed it all? Did that woman have no shame?

Gervim wanted to lift his head and tell the Duke it was all a misunderstanding. But his bowed head wouldn't move.

The Duke didn't want his apology.

Then...

"It was my mistake, Lady Marin Schwenz."

It was humiliating, but the fear of his body not obeying was worse.

"What did you do wrong?"

Gervim bit his lip. Of all things, she asked that. That incident was a scandal for her too.

"May I truly speak it from my own mouth?"

It was blackmail.

No matter how strong she acted, as a noblewoman, she couldn't reveal her own blemish.

Marin looked down at Gervim kneeling on the floor with exasperation. The perpetrator was threatening the victim instead.

She had told him to kneel and beg, and here he was, actually on his knees, prostrated in apology. Not entirely sincere, but honestly satisfying.

She rolled her eyes sideways. The Duke stood silently, his face unreadable.

She was grateful to the Duke for orchestrating this.

Looking back down at Gervim, Marin smiled inwardly. It was amusing how he stupidly believed she would never speak of it.

She had no intention of marrying anyway. Once this sham engagement ended, she had no desire to linger in noble society. Even if scandal followed her like a tail, it didn't matter.

Above all, she was the victim. Why should the victim live in fear?

"Since you won't say your crime with your own mouth, I'll say it for you."

"Marin! No, Lady Schwenz!!"

Gervim's trembling attempt to raise his face was pathetic.

"I'm talking about that day I barely escaped from you. Fortunately, I only got slapped and managed to flee, but you owe me an apology for dragging me to your room that day and trying to have your way with me."

The impact of her calm revelation was immense. The already quiet space fell utterly silent, like a dead mouse.

Sharp gazes poured down on Gervim, flattened face-down on the floor.

"It's a lie!"

The pressure crushing his body vanished like a lie. Now able to move, Gervim sprang up and shouted.

But his words echoed emptily into the void.

What noblewoman would risk scandal by airing such a past at a party, especially as the star of the evening?

"It's all lies. You have to believe me."

Gervim frantically scanned the surroundings, seeking allies, and backed away unsteadily.

The Duke, whose face had been frozen like ice, raised one hand.

Gervim's body floated up, his neck caught in the Duke's large hand.

"Gahk."

The Duke tightened his grip on Gervim's throat with a chilling expression dripping with frost. Hoisted by the neck, Gervim choked for air.

"Y-Your Grace. W-Without evidence, you can't condemn me like this."

The Duke's tightly shut lips slowly parted.

"Why would I need evidence?"

"Urk."

Gervim glared at the Duke with bloodshot eyes.

"Because my fiancée said so."

The Duke continued slowly.

Murmurs erupted among the hushed nobles.

Sympathetic looks. Scornful looks. Curious looks. Skeptical looks.

***

Marin swept her gaze over the nobles' eyes before slowly speaking.

"I have evidence."

"So there's evidence, too."

"Guhk. L-Lies."

Gervim squeezed out his voice to survive.

"I took it."

Her unexpected reply left question marks floating over the nobles' faces.

Marin pitied Gervim's face, red as if about to burst, then slowly lowered her gaze. It soon stopped at his lower body.