Chapter 64: 64 — Her Real Smile

"It seems like you are having a good time," Lucian’s voice interrupted, causing Cynthia to halt her laughter.

The corners of her lips dropped abruptly as she turned to look at the man standing before her, dressed in a thick black coat, his dark hair brushed off by the cold breeze of the fall.

The dark-haired man leaned closer to her face, his cold thumbs placed at the corners of her lips as he locked gaze with her. He carefully watched her complexion, so different from the one she had earlier.

"So that was her real smile," he thought, gazing closely at her trembling lips, her smile was obviously a fake one. Perhaps, she confused him with the foolish nobles who couldn’t even notice the difference between a fake and real smile. Yet again, he had to learn the difference or he would have survived within the palace walls as the illegitimate child he was.

"What is it, Your Highness?" She asked, perplexed by his strange action. He wouldn’t usually lay a finger on her even if she asked for him too, yet now, he was touching her without even asking permission?

Cynthia remained still as Lucian placed his thumbs in each other of her lips, his gaze locked into her. His emerald eyes slowly traced to her lips, making Cynthia wonder what he was looking at.

She gently pulled his hands away from her skin, a smirk on her face.

"Do you want to kiss me?"

Lucian did not express any emotion for a second. The memory of the kisses they recently shared was intense, and fueled a burning fire within him.

"Do you not have any shame, Your Highness?" He demanded, placing the palm of his hand on his face, clearly frustrated by her bluntness.

"If you want, we can do it."

"Again," she added, making sure the maids would hear her.

What better way is there to let the whole mansion know the grand duke and grand duchess don’t have a cold relationship by letting them know how they can shamelessly talk about kissing in public?

"You..." Lucian sighed, speechless. "Both of you," he pointed at Hilda and Anni, waving his hand dismissively. "Leave."

The two servants, whose faces flushed red upon hearing their mistress’s words, nodded and exited the garden with quick steps. They didn’t know she could be so... straightforward.

"Take a seat," Cynthia said, sitting back on her chair.

"Actually, I need to—"

"And how long will you avoid me? It has already been five days since we’ve returned to Erion and you refuse to talk about what happened at the inn."

Lucian gazed down, unable to speak. He hadn’t arranged his thoughts just yet. He needed more time. Rather, he didn’t know what to do for the first time as everything contradicted him.

[Either you kill her or you treat her as your wife, Lucian. You no longer have a choice, do you? Remember what the king said at the banquet hall?] Keal’s voice echoed in Lucian’s mind.

The dark-haired man clenched his fist, finally lifting his gaze only to see Cynthia no longer sitting on the chair. He looked around, only to find her standing before a small group of lavender trees.

He stepped closer to her, curiously scanning her.

What is she up to now?

Her actions constantly contradicted the rumours, making him hopeful she wasn’t as vile as he heard. However, the relief he should feel was never there because right then, he was reminded of her bloodline and he couldn’t help but let the bitterness in his heart take over.

"Your Highness, is it unfair?"

"What is?" He asked, unable to understand what she was referring to.

"You see, this flower, it will die soon. But do you think it’s unfair that once this one dies, slowly the others will die too? Well, no, it is the root that is dying. You need to take care of the root."

"What are you saying?" Lucian narrowed his eyes, trying to grasp what she meant by that.

"You should hate the root, not everything related to it. That is unfair," Cynthia walked past him, her silver hair blown by the cold breeze as she closed her eyes, a smile forming on her lips. "Don’t you think?" She turned, gazing at him.

The dark haired man stood in the field of withering flowers and trees, speechless. He clenched his fist, unable to deny that what he had been doing so far was unfair. She wasn’t responsible for his mother’s death.

However, was she truly not a bad person? Was she worthy of being the Grand Duchess of Erion?

Philip constantly complimented her, whereas, Elene would constantly report her absurd behaviour. The contrast between his most trusted people’s words was hard to verify. He did witness her outrageous behaviour, just as he witnessed her calm, composed, gentle although fake demeanour dignified of a duchess.

But which one was the real her?

He didn’t know the answer and perhaps, now was his chance to seek the answer he needed to decide either to accept her or disdain her.

"Your Highness," he finally spoke, his voice cutting through the wind.

Cynthia, who has returned to her seat, raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue his sentence.

Seeing him hesitate, she decided to take the lead.

"Yes, so what do you think about what happened that night?"

Lucian stepped closer to her, placing his hand abruptly on the tea table, almost slamming his palm on it. His eyes were covered with his hair, making it hard for Cynthia to guess his feelings.

"I’ve decided to trust you, give you a chance to manage the mansion. As nothing unusual happened over the past few months, I’ll assume that you are a worthy grand duchess."

"And as a wife? When will you give me a chance to do that?"

"From now on."

"Your Highness, we should prepare for an heir."

Lucian inhaled deeply, only to let out a deep sigh.

"We can take it slowly."

"Sure. Let’s meet every two months. I’m sure you need time to attend to your duties, just as I need to attend to mine," Cynthia suddenly rose from her seat, the chair almost fell back but she caught it.

"Let’s start from next week," she said before leaving the garden with quick steps, leaving Lucian to wonder what happened to her. She would usually tease him or talk more of her nonsense yet now, she was rushing away from him.

Aren’t you the one who wanted this the most? Why are you running away like this? It couldn’t be that...

Lucian shook his head.

She isn’t the kind to be shy.

He told himself, arranging his coat.

[It seems you decided to give her a chance after all.]

"Why? You don’t like it? Did you want me to kill her? Perhaps to live my whole life on the battlefield? Did you forget everything that happened there?"

[... I didn’t mean it like that but... if you have a problem, don’t you just need to get rid of the root, as in kill it?]

Lucian sighed, shaking his head.

"Talking to you is useless."

"Your Highness!" Dylan, Adrian and Glain rushed to reach the grand duke.

"What’s with the rush?"

"Well... we have been keeping track of the people that have been missing and it seems like they are constantly frequenting a place!"

"A place, you say?" Lucian crossed his arms, tapping his fingers on them.

"Yes," Adrian added. "It’s somewhere inside the forest. We can leave as soon as you order it."

Lucian shook his head.

"No. We can’t act in a rush. The count is still against me, and if I make the slightest mistake, he will cause trouble."

"Let’s just kill him," Dylan suggested, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Lucian frowned, glazing his way.

The blonde-haired man flinched and gulped nervously.

"I-I’m just saying, we could technically do that..."

"We aren’t joking here, Dylan," Adrian sighed, side eyeing him.

"I’m not joking..." Dylan mumbled. "You are constantly against me."

"Then what should we do?" Glain voiced, his gaze fixed in the grand duke who seemed to be worried about the abnormal situation.

"Wait. That’s all we can do. Just make sure there aren’t other people disappearing. Make sure to use every single knight of the mansion if needed."

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by Aunomay Read