Chapter 252: On the Way Back from the Ducal Residence

The two women’s smiling faces froze for an instant, then they looked at each other. They had known I was in debt, but not who the lenders were.

"My husband has lent money to Lord Robin?"

The Countess turned to me, her voice carrying a sharp edge.

I had no choice.

"Yes."

"How much? Oh, how rude of me. Asking about money is unbefitting of a noble. Lord Robin, I apologize. Could you tell me quietly?"

She offered her ear.

"Um... five hundred fifty coins."

The moment the words left my mouth—

"Oh my?!"

—she cried out, and the atmosphere shifted instantly. The Duchess continued smiling as if nothing had happened. The Baroness asked:

"Our household has also lent money?"

I leaned close to her ear.

"I’ve borrowed four hundred gold coins from your son."

The Baroness said nothing and simply stared at me. When I nodded, she frowned and muttered:

"Where did that boy get that kind of money...?"

I had a feeling that once these two returned home, some kind of storm would break.

While the two ladies sat under a heavy cloud, the Duchess paid it no mind at all.

"Come, let’s have some tea. I’ve prepared delicious sweets as well."

She said brightly.

This woman is a confirmed troublemaker... I decided then and there never to go against her.

I had only come to deliver the medicine, so I never met the Duke himself. (The Duchess had said that if I was just dropping it off we could finish the conversation first.) Yet the moment I stepped out to the entrance, the Duke appeared out of nowhere. The ladies were still talking with the Duchess deeper inside the mansion, so only I was leaving early. The Duchess herself had come out to see me off.

For some reason the Duke’s spirits seemed unusually high as he approached.

"I’m so glad you came! I’m truly grateful to you. Lately my wife’s mood has been excellent, which is a great help to me. Please keep looking after her!"

He took my hand and shook it vigorously. What exactly is so helpful? I wondered. Behind him the Duchess spoke in a voice laced with ice.

"My, you’re back already? Leaving again the moment you return... you must be terribly busy. Where are you going this time?"

Even I could feel the pressure. The Duke clearly felt it too; he shot me a twisted, reluctant look before immediately switching back to a smile and turning toward his wife.

"Come now, what are you saying? I came home late last night, didn’t I? I stayed quiet so I wouldn’t wake you. Honestly..."

Rough life, Your Grace, I wanted to say as a fellow man.

But someone once said that repeating the same phrase when making an excuse is proof you’re lying...

The Duchess gave a thin smile.

"There’s no need to be so considerate of your wife. Male friendships must be exhausting too. Why not invite Lord Robin along sometime?"

Is she telling me to accompany the Duke and report on his movements?

"Ahaha! I’d be fine with that, but Lord Robin Marie is still young. Adult company might be a bit too early for him~ Ahaha, ahaha, ahahaha..."

His laughter was so forced it was painful to listen to. I certainly wasn’t going to point that out. More importantly, there was no reason for me to step into the middle of a married couple’s verbal sparring. Silence is golden, right? Please stop looking at me like you expect me to say something, Your Grace.

"S-since Lord Marie has kindly come all this way, let’s drop the subject. Lord Robin Marie is heading back as well. I was just about to leave myself. Lord Robin Marie, please go ahead!"

He was so flustered he kept switching between my family name and full name. Your true colors are showing, Your Grace!

His face was twitching (a vein pulsed at his temple), but he forced a calm expression and pushed me out the door with a hand on my back. The Duchess seemed to have given up and fell silent.

"Lord Robin Marie. When you have your audience with His Majesty, I’m the one who will escort you. I’ll come to the embassy to pick you up! Please get ready and wait for me there!"

Whether it was for his wife’s benefit or not, he was treating me with surprising goodwill. It felt a little awkward, but I gratefully accepted the kindness.

The moment Rudolf and I climbed into the carriage, I sensed the Duke’s own carriage departing right behind us. When I leaned out the window I saw the Duchess’s face—twisted into something demonic. Th-that look... i-it isn’t directed at me... r-right?

Even with the mental-resistance magic inherited from the Queen, the pressure was intense. What is this? Did the Duke feel nothing? The Duchess must have been using her unconscious mental magic again. Please don’t aim it at completely unrelated people like me. Could you develop a little more directionality?

I sat down. Across from me Rudolf’s face was also stiff.

"You too, Rudolf?"

He opened and closed his mouth like a carp waiting for food at the edge of a pond. The horses, however, were still moving normally (I couldn’t see them, but the carriage hadn’t stopped), and the coachman seemed unaffected (the carriage was still rolling, after all).

As we drew farther from the mansion the pressure gradually lessened. The weight above my head lightened, and the crushing stiffness in my shoulders slowly eased, as if circulation were returning. Rudolf was sweating heavily.

"Rudolf, you’re sweating a lot."

"So are you, Lord Robin."

I wiped my forehead with a finger and found it soaked, just as he said. The sudden release from the pressure must have made the sweat pour out. I made a firm vow in my heart: I will never do anything that goes against the Duchess’s wishes!

Yet the Duke could casually do things that spoiled her mood without any apparent trouble. His nerves must be as thick as a log. Mine were more like fishing line—maybe 6-nylon, which is surprisingly hard to snap, but still.

Just as the carriage passed through the gates of the ducal residence—crack!!

An arrow appeared right in front of my eyes.

No—that wasn’t right. An arrow was sticking out of the door.

No, that wasn’t right either. The arrow had smashed through the window glass and buried itself in the opposite door. The glass it had passed through was completely shattered, scattered across the floor in glittering fragments. Of course there was no bulletproof or tempered glass—just ordinary panes that broke with almost no resistance.

The carriage came to an abrupt stop.