Chapter – 10
Warren’s clear blue-gray eyes grew clouded with sorrow. Seeing this, the noblewomen surrounding him genuinely sympathized.
People secretly hoped Psyche would accept Warren’s invitation.
It was just a request to attend a salon—why should the wife of a lowly murderer put on such airs as if she were too busy?
Warren Demioses, who smiled so kindly at the wife of the man who had broken his leg, was clearly an angel incarnate.
In contrast, that woman…
The noblewomen looked at Warren with pity and respect, then waited for Psyche’s answer.
Meanwhile, Psyche felt as if she were being pressured in a place with all exits blocked.
With a familiar and uncomfortable feeling, she lowered her gaze.
“I’ll… ask the Duke about the salon first.”
“Oh my, is Icarus already showing signs of jealousy toward his beautiful wife? Does the lady, so delicate, need permission to go out?”
At Warren’s teasing words, his secretary standing nearby smirked.
The surrounding noblewomen also giggled.
Noting the reactions around him, Warren spoke in a sly, actor-like tone.
“Though, Icarus does have a childish side. Even though our bond is not old, sworn brothers are still brothers. I also know well that he’s quite spoiled.”
Warren, who cheerfully spoke of being sworn brothers, could only be seen favorably by the noblewomen around him.
“How can he be so kind-hearted? If it were me, I’d seek revenge the moment I saw that monster’s wife, out of hatred.”
“Who wouldn’t? A handsome man with a kind heart.”
“Compared to her…”
A clicking of tongues was heard.
“…”
Although she had suffered much from this kind of bullying and blatant stares in her past life, she still hadn’t gotten used to it.
Psyche had to tense her entire body to keep her composure.
Meanwhile, Warren, who had been gauging the murmuring public opinion, glanced at Psyche and smiled leisurely.
“Oh dear, time has already flown… I’ve kept you too long. Then, I’ll look forward to seeing you at the salon.”
“…”
“You’ll at least accept a farewell, won’t you?”
He looked at her with an insistent gaze. Psyche reluctantly extended her hand, clad in lace gloves.
Warren familiarly took her hand and kissed the back of it.
Psyche clenched her eyes shut and endured. A smothered laugh was heard.
“Then, see you later, Princess. No, Madame.”
After Warren disappeared to the other side of the square with his entourage, Psyche boarded the carriage without looking around the square any further. As she removed her white lace gloves, Anna, seated opposite, cautiously asked.
“…Shall I throw those away?”
Psyche silently gazed at a corner of the seat, then let out a long sigh.
“Let’s think about it after we return to the estate.”
Her head throbbed, and unpleasant memories surfaced.
* * *
After a short ride in the afternoon, Icarus finished bathing with hot water.
As he emerged, fastening the front of his robe, his aide Hans was standing in the room.
“Her Ladyship sent a letter declining the invitation to Marchioness Huliam’s salon.”
“Is that so.”
Icarus responded indifferently.
Habitually, he opened a case to light a cigar but then remembered he had just washed and closed the lid.
Instead, he sat on the sofa, burying his head deeply.
“It might be good to keep distance from Huliam, but aside from that salon invitation, I’m worried she hasn’t received any other invitations. She’s staying too much within the estate.”
“People can’t ignore the Duchess forever. If we leave it a bit longer, the quick-witted ones will send invitations on their own.”
Hans looked at Icarus with a dissatisfied expression but couldn’t argue further. His answer seemed far too nonchalant, as if it were someone else’s affair.
“What is your reason for not allowing Her Ladyship to attend salons?”
“I want Psyche to avoid meeting Warren as much as possible.”
“…Surely you’re not still holding onto what happened back then?”
At Hans’s question, Icarus remained silent. But that alone was enough of an answer for Hans.
“Making him a cripple should be sufficient.”
“No, not even close to sufficient.”
“…”
Icarus stubbornly insisted, uncharacteristically. Seeing this, Hans grimaced and openly sighed.
It’s only because I stopped him back then; if I hadn’t, we might have had to dispose of two corpses.
In truth, Warren Demioses, the biological son who returned to the ducal estate after ten years of being missing, as soon as he reclaimed his position, cut off Icarus, his replacement, from all external interactions as if locking him in solitary confinement.
That oppression lasted for four years.
Just when Icarus was living like a dead mouse, Warren Demioses suddenly announced he would marry the princess of Dauson.
It wasn’t particularly strange for a young duke of a prestigious family to marry a princess from a small country.
However, strange rumors spread.
The young duke mistreats the princess.
The angel-like young duke acts violently only toward the princess he shares a marriage with.
Though it was gossip only whispered in closed salons, those who knew, knew.
Icarus suddenly felt as if he heard the hallucination of the stepfather he had killed.
“That’s right, if that’s what you want, gifting a mere princess from a small country isn’t even difficult. Warren, you’re my only son, after all.”
Whenever he heard such hallucinations, Icarus felt an illusion of returning to the day he had killed his father.
Of course, Hans, Icarus’s only loyal subject, also knew to some extent about such absurd rumors and the truth, so he couldn’t ignore Icarus’s stubbornness.
‘Ah, no. We already disposed of one body; what difference would two make?’
But quickly changing his mind, Hans placed a hand on his throbbing temple and spoke.
“Still, you can’t keep the two apart forever. Movements indicating Lady Tilley and Sir Warren are about to return to the capital are being detected moment by moment, aren’t they?”
“I know.”
“If they return to the capital, the two will stir up social circles as if they own the place. Inevitably, they will meet Her Ladyship—are you planning to keep her locked in the estate?”
Icarus fell silent for a moment.
As if wondering whether such a measure might be necessary if needed.
Hans hesitated briefly, then chose his words carefully.
“And… Your Grace must soon go to war, mustn’t you? You made a promise with His Majesty.”
Icarus leaned back deeply into the sofa, opening and closing the lid of the innocent cigar case.
While he remained silent on the uncomfortable topic, dark clouds gathered outside.
Raindrops began to fall, one or two at a time, over the blurry garden, and soon a downpour followed.
Psyche, who had gone out, hadn’t returned yet.
“Go check.”
“But—”
“I know, so go check.”
Icarus turned his back to Hans and looked out the window.
He had no intention of speaking further.
Hans had no choice but to sigh and leave the room.
Icarus watched the thickening rain for a while, then slowly closed his eyes.
The sound of rain grew fiercer, and the forest near the ridge turned a darker shade.
Since the lowly murderer seized real power, no one visited this estate purely for social purposes.
Even Icarus himself agreed with the description of the estate as quiet and eerie.
* * *
Icarus had a dream during his brief nap.
The dream started with memories from a very young age.
It flowed seamlessly from the days when he picked up fallen bread from the ground because there was nothing to eat, to the time he luckily entered an orphanage, and to the day a luxurious white carriage slid into the orphanage’s courtyard.
Back then, the children at the orphanage gleamed their eyes like a pack of hyenas, eager to be adopted into good families.
Everyone wanted to escape this tedious and miserable life.
To do so, adoption into a good family was the only way.
A life of never going hungry again, with noble parents who would love them.
Everyone dreamed of a life where they would lie in a wide bed in a warm room and receive kisses from their parents.
But Icarus was different from the other orphans.
Though there was no basis for it, Icarus believed there was no family in this world who would truly love him.
Then one day, a miracle happened to him.
A couple who emerged from a fine carriage, smelling of fine scents and wearing fine clothes, chose him.
Wiping the dirt from his face, they cheered and declared they would adopt this child.
It was truly like a dream.
Nothing could be luckier.
A huge estate and servants. A large room with an attached bathroom and a spacious garden full of greenery. Clean clothes and hot soup.
And parents, parents, parents…
The young Icarus repeated the unfamiliar word ‘parents’ over and over.
Whenever the grand estate and wide, clean room felt unfamiliar and kept him awake, he would roll the word ‘parents’ on his tongue for a long time, as if savoring a candy.
To him, parents were as sweet as hard candy.
After being adopted into the ducal family, Icarus did everything his parents wanted.
He participated in intense training, slept only three or four hours, and never neglected his studies.
For the first time, he felt desire.
He believed that if he became the perfect son, he could be loved forever.
For the first time, he firmly believed that if he just became perfect, this happiness would last forever.
Until Warren, the biological son, appeared.
“Ah, as expected. There’s no one in this world who would love me.”
After Warren appeared, he was naturally treated coldly by the couple.
No, being treated coldly would have been better.
They began to consider choosing Icarus their worst mistake.
