The Unlikely Imprint of the Villainess and the Male Lead - Chapter 49

Chapter 49

Translator: Yonnee

—

Knock, knock.

“Your Grace, I heard you cough. I’m here to assist with your morning wash.”

Richt instinctively grabbed the blanket, pulling it over himself.

“Your Grace, pardon me, but may I come in…?”

“Thirty minutes!”

“Pardon…?”

“…Come back in thirty minutes.”

“Ah, understood.”

Realizing his disheveled state, Richt, feeling no regard for his dignity as the head of his household, called out urgently, turning the servant away.

“Hah. I should douse myself in cold water immediately.”

In a mess like this, the chill hardly mattered.

With a sigh of frustration and shame, Richt stood up and made his way to the bathroom.

* * *

Having finally prepared for the day’s events, Richt, accompanied by Logan, set off toward the imperial palace.

‘His Grace’s complexion is truly worrisome these days.’

Waiting in silence for the carriage to arrive, Logan glanced at Richt, noting the sharper line of his jaw and the dark shadows under his eyes, which gave the otherwise closed-eyed duke an air of intense weariness.

“You look exhausted, Your Grace,” Logan prompted gently.

Richt opened his eyes, his crimson gaze meeting Logan’s.

“Is it because of the lack of leads on the badge investigation?”

“……”

Richt didn’t respond immediately. Though he had indeed been reviewing daily reports from his knights, issuing orders as needed, the truth was that Luciana had been the primary source of his recent exhaustion.

“…Yes.”

Unable to explain further, Richt evaded Logan’s question by responding vaguely.

‘It seems the atmosphere in the estate may be tense for a while.’

Had anyone else ever unsettled his lord to this extent? There had been a few unruly troublemakers over the years, but even they had submitted fairly quickly.

“To aggravate you to such a degree, Your Grace… It’s unlikely they’ll meet a peaceful end once caught.”

“……!”

Though Richt knew Logan was speaking about the intruders and not Luciana, his brow furrowed at the rough edge in Logan’s voice.

“Are you planning to deal with them like last time, Your Grace? Reduce them to a pulp?”

“Logan.”

The intent to lighten the mood with a bit of humor seemed to backfire as Richt’s noticeably tense response stopped Logan in his tracks.

“…Yes, Your Grace?”

Why so serious all of a sudden? Did I misspeak?

Although Logan was sure he hadn’t done anything inappropriate, Richt’s displeased expression made him swallow nervously.

“…Let’s drop the subject here.”

“Yes… My apologies.”

Realizing it was best not to pursue the matter, Richt dismissed the conversation. Fortunately, Logan noticed his lord’s discomfort and kept quiet.

“Your Grace, we’ve arrived at the palace.”

Just as the atmosphere started to turn awkward, the carriage reached their destination. Richt stepped out, heading straight to the audience hall.

‘I should have just ignored it.’

Logan’s words had conjured an image of Luciana suffering through torture, unsettling him more than he cared to admit.

Why should he care what happened to her? Richt found himself frustrated by his own reaction to such trivial thoughts, unable to maintain his usual composure today.

‘I have no feelings for that woman. She’s just an annoyance, nothing more.’

Even as he repeated these words to himself, they no longer felt as convincing as they once had.

“!”

That hair color…!

Just ahead, Richt caught sight of a familiar figure and, without thinking, began to move toward it.

“Your Grace?”

Logan’s surprised call barely registered as Richt pursued the figure who had just turned the corner, possibly Luciana.

“Lu…”

“……?”

Flinch—

Hearing someone approaching, the woman turned, revealing not Luciana, but—

“Hm? Duke Cassio?”