Chapter 8

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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Engaged to the Blind Duke
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"Have you ever seen a spy go around announcing, 'I'm a spy'?"

"No......"

She hadn't. That would disqualify them as a spy right from the start.

Marin trudged toward the wall like a deflated puppy and thunked her face against it.

"What are you doing right now?"

"It's my time for reflection."

"What?"

The duke's breathing hitched slightly.

But Marin was too lost in her own thoughts to notice.

"You're right, Your Grace. What spy would admit they're a spy? They'd deny it. I need time to reflect on my foolish words."

"......"

Marin stood there facing the wall, deep in reflection.

She should prove it with actions, not words. How could she show she wasn't a spy?

Should she hand over some novel plot point that would benefit the duke?

No, why did the duke have so many enemies? If he hated the emperor, he could just join the noble faction.

But the duke, who despised factions, stood tall and aloof on his own.

That was why both the imperial and noble factions despised him.

As long as the duke was hale and hearty, their envy and espionage always failed.

But now, the duke was secluded due to his injuries. Seizing the opportunity, spies from both sides had infiltrated House Vines in droves.

That was why Olive hadn't told her about the duke's condition.

She had to somehow prove she wasn't a spy. If she was mistaken for one, it was straight to the execution block.

Reflection time?

A faint crack appeared in Gerald's impassive expression.

He soon tuned in to her actions.

He could sense her banging her head against the wall before standing stock-still.

Was she really reflecting?

Her heartbeat, which had been pounding wildly the moment she entered the study, had now settled to normal.

What was this woman?

She seemed terrified of him, yet not entirely.

Her demeanor lacked consistency; she was utterly unpredictable.

Unpredictable beings were dangerous. Like a monster.

A surge of wariness rose within him.

Marin Schwenz, daughter of Viscount Schwenz.

After a carriage accident killed the family head and eldest son, the house fell into ruin.

She lived in a crumbling shack, caring for her ailing mother. Never made her debut. No dowry, so unmarried.

Shadow Kay's investigations were always swift and reliable.

In just one day, he had uncovered her entire life story. Nothing secretive about her.

If she wasn't a spy, then why approach him? Just for money?

Even if she wasn't a spy, she had lied about her identity. He could punish and expel her on that alone.

"How long are you going to stay there?"

"Until the aide arrives."

If only that voice weren't so grating.

He had thought it only bothered him when reading reports, but no.

***

Her normal voice wasn't grating either. When speaking to him, she whispered as low and softly as possible.

Gerald crossed his arms over his chest and turned his head toward where she stood.

"Come here."

"The aide hasn't arrived yet."

"Will you read reports to me from there even when Olive gets here?"

She hesitated before answering cautiously.

"......No. I'll come over."

He heard her light footsteps approaching. So featherlike, they were—how thin was she?

Kay, who lived as his shadow always muffling his steps, might even envy them.

She stopped a short distance away. The scent of dry autumn sunlight, one he hadn't smelled in ages, wafted toward him.

"The inner part is hard to see from here, so maybe I can......"

In an instant, he reached out, grabbed her wrist, and yanked her close.

"Hng—"

Her free hand flew to her mouth, stifling a scream. Her racing heartbeat rang clear in his ears.

Gerald furrowed his brow slightly and leaned toward her.

The secret of House Vines' bloodline was passed only to the direct heir.

His close aides merely suspected he could hear a bit better than others.

"Why?"

"......Y-Yes?"

Her pronunciation was muffled, lips still covered.

"I asked why you didn't scream."

Marin's light green eyes trembled as she stared at the duke.

Was he insane?

Pulled flush against him, Marin pondered seriously.

Up close, she could make out the silhouette of his face shrouded in darkness.

Jet-black hair draped over the black silk blindfold. Beneath a nose sharp enough to cut glass, full rose-red lips tempted.

Just the silhouette was breathtakingly handsome. A madman, no less.

The perfect romance fantasy male lead setup.

But in the novel she had read, "The Western Duke's Bluebird Does Not Sing," the male lead wasn't mad.

Maybe the heroine just didn't know?

The novel was written from the heroine's first-person perspective. So she had assumed he was ruthless to enemies but tender only to his beloved.

What if he was actually tender only to her but a madman otherwise?

For her, who had to deceive the duke, a madman was the last thing she wanted.

"Why?" he asked again.

He seemed like a beast snarling before her, ready to tear out her throat.

Marin's mind raced.

No matter how mad the duke was, she couldn't straight-up ask, "Are you crazy?"

She had to give him the answer he wanted, fast.

"I-If I screamed, it'd be too noisy."

"Startled people scream. It's natural."

"You know that, so why do it?"

Marin's light green eyes shook with anxiety.

Please don't be a real madman.

"Don't you think it's suspicious that Temporary doesn't do the natural thing?"

Marin's eyes widened in shock, blinking rapidly.

Wow. Not a madman—just testing her.

"Your Grace can't see—well, it's inconvenient for you to see."

Relieved he wasn't mad, Marin chose her words carefully.

"......"

The duke listened silently, attentive.

***

"So I thought you'd be sensitive to noise instead. I'm sorry."

Scenes of him turning violent at loud noises appeared multiple times in the novel. Better safe than sorry.

"Good analysis."

"Thank you."

Marin bowed her head in thanks, anticipating his follow-up.

" Are you a spy?"

"Are you a spy?"

"No, I'm not. Sigh."

As expected. Marin let out a long sigh without thinking.

"Did you just sigh in front of me?"

The unspoken 'How dare you?' hung in the air.

Marin shook her head firmly.

"No, I didn't."

"You did."

The duke lowered his voice in warning.

"Would I dare sigh in front of Your Grace? It wasn't a sigh—just a deep breath."

Marin straightened her shoulders, arguing boldly on purpose.

Only she could define whether her breath was a sigh or not.

"......"

The duke's jaw muscle twitched in dissatisfaction, but he said no more.

Marin sighed inwardly in relief. But her wrist, still gripped in his hand, nagged at her.

The test's over—let go already. How do I get out of this?

Then, a thin beam of light, sparkling like tinsel, slipped through the gap in the black curtains into the study.

Her gaze naturally followed it. The beam lengthened, grazing the duke's profile as he turned his head.

My god, what is that?

Her vision spun for a moment. Fortunately, having just been through it, she was prepared.

Marin slowly covered her mouth with her hand again and called to him, careful not to let a scream slip.

"......Your Grace!"

"What?"

The sparkling beam illuminated his ear before vanishing.

Marin's anxious gaze traced from his ear along his jawline to the crusted blood.

"B-Blood. You're bleeding."

"It happened earlier."

The duke sounded utterly indifferent.

"You should get it treated soon."

She was more frantic than he was. She wanted to call a doctor, but her wrist was still captive in his grasp.