DLYTL 26

Chapter 26

At that moment, Hans answered awkwardly.

“Ah… well, you see, the Duke thought that if he stayed at the table for too long, it would make the Marchioness uncomfortable… so he deliberately excused himself.”

“Uncomfortable because of me? …Why?”

Psyche frowned slightly, unable to understand, and Hans looked equally flustered.

“Eh? You’re asking why…?”

Hans paused for a moment as if choosing the right words.

“It’s just… most of the nobility are afraid of the Duke now. They say that if he joins the dinner, the atmosphere might sour, and it could inconvenience you, Madam. Even the Marchioness might not appreciate it…”

“Inconvenience me?”

Psyche still looked unconvinced. Hans, as if trying to lighten the mood, smiled faintly.

“Don’t worry too much, Madam. When you have dinner with the Marchioness and her family, the Duke will not suddenly join the table. So the three of you can enjoy your meal… If you’re concerned, I can make a reservation at a restaurant in Lacon to arrange a private table. Please, feel free to say so.”

Hans spoke with a smile that suggested he understood her concern, which only made Psyche feel more bewildered.

“Why would the Duke attending the dinner be an inconvenience to me?”

“Eh?”

Hans was startled to see Psyche’s expression change.

‘Well… doesn’t Madam fear the Duke?’

At least, in Hans’s eyes—and in the eyes of the other servants—she did.

Even Ikari, her master, firmly believed it.

Psyche was afraid of him, hated being touched by him.

Otherwise, their interactions wouldn’t have been so cold.

Hans had seen Psyche stiffen at dinner, as if bracing herself for punishment, many times over the past few days.

‘But… did I misjudge this?’

Hans tilted his head.

He assumed that Madam would naturally prefer dinners with friends without her husband present.

He had even considered reserving a restaurant in Lacon for them.

Had he been mistaken?

On the other hand, Psyche was also embarrassed.

For some reason, Hans seemed to think that she wanted to hide her husband.

And Ikari, in what he thought was consideration for her, had voluntarily avoided attending the dinner.

‘Why?’

Psyche hesitated, then lowered her voice slightly.

“…Was that also why you arrived late at the Marchioness’s salon?”

“…….”

“So it was because you thought the Duke attending would inconvenience me?”

“That’s…”

“Because he’s the murderer who killed my father? Were you afraid the backlash would hit me? Answer me.”

Hans, caught off guard by Psyche’s words, swallowed dryly.

Psyche excused herself to Mia and went up to Ikari’s study. She knocked, and a brief “Come in” sounded from inside.

Upon entering, she saw his study.

Now that she thought about it, in her previous life, she had lingered in front of this thick study door countless times, just waiting for him to finish his work.

Even after Ikari went to war, she had entered the study a few times with the maids to keep it tidy, never knowing when he would return. But this was the first time she had entered while he was actually at home.

For a moment, a strange feeling ran through her body, like she had been invited into someone else’s home. Then, her eyes met Ikari’s across the wide desk.

He seemed surprised, as if expecting only a maid or servant, and raised his straight eyebrows.

“What is it? What about dinner?”

It was clear that her coming in person was unexpected.

“…I came to suggest we have dinner together. I heard the Duke had Hans prepare a dinner in advance. The Duke should attend too. Let’s have dinner together.”

Psyche deliberately kept her expression neutral and made the suggestion calmly.

Ikari looked her over, rubbed his stiff neck, and carefully chose his words.

“I’m fine. Let the women eat by themselves.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

She thought a simple refusal would be enough for her to leave, but Psyche stood at the door, staring at him with a firm expression.

After a brief pause, she asked,

“Is it because you thought the Duke’s presence would ruin the dinner… so you deliberately avoided it for my sake? Because of other people’s opinions?”

“…….”

“And at Madam Hulyum’s salon, was it also that you arrived late because you were afraid I would be embarrassed?”

“How did you know that…?”

“I heard it from Hans. You weren’t planning to attend the salon at all, but then you said it would be fine as long as the Duke didn’t ruin the gathering. Why did you think that?”

Psyche tried to continue speaking calmly, but it wasn’t easy.

Ikari looked at her, sighed, and lowered his gaze.

“…I don’t understand why you look angry. Am I mistaken?”

“Because you were doing an unrequested favor for me. I never asked you to leave social events.”

Psyche hadn’t expected Ikari to care so much about his reputation.

He had tried to avoid her at social gatherings to prevent her from being made fun of.

With someone close like Mia Hulyum, he exchanged greetings in passing but avoided long meals that required staying for hours.

He wasn’t inexperienced in hosting guests, and Madam Hulyum was no minor noble.

If he had truly been too busy with work, he wouldn’t have skipped dinners with Psyche over the past few days.

Now, it was simply that he deliberately avoided the occasion.

What made her even more uneasy and frustrated was another thought.

‘…Could it be that in my previous life, Ikari avoided social events for the same reason? Because of me?’

She had tried to speak with him, to stay close, and even begged him to attend festivals with her.

Cherry blossom viewing, boat trips, small tea parties, walks—she had always tried to include him.

But he had always refused.

At first, she assumed he was just busy.

After returning to the past, she thought it was because he didn’t love her, so he had no obligation.

Now, a third hypothesis was forming.

Was it possible that he avoided walking with her in a sunlit square purely for her sake?

Because he didn’t want people to see him with someone rumored to be a murderer?

Just for her?

A whirlwind of emotions swept through her.

Suppressing her rising feelings, Psyche spoke.

“…Even so, I think it would be rude if the master of the house were absent from the dinner. Madam Hulyum also wants to meet the Duke properly. If he attends, she will surely be pleased. She doesn’t care about society gossip.”

“I see….”

“If you aren’t too busy, please spare a little time. …I can make it look natural, as a married couple.”

Ikari’s expression softened, and he nodded reluctantly to her faint, almost whispered voice.

Warren Dmiosys had his hideout behind Lacon Square, in an alley filled with illegal gambling dens and brothels.

He had converted a fief that belonged to the Duke into his own, and once he had the funds, he bought a warehouse.

It had previously been a shabby two-story pub.

Warren was killing time, looking at the old oak barrels neatly lined up along the edge.

Then, two or three men dragged someone in, bound and struggling.

“This is the man you mentioned.”

The men said.

The man’s wrists were tied with rope, and a thick cloth covered his head.

When they roughly removed the cloth, the face of an old man appeared, gagged.

Warren looked at him calmly.

This man had been the cruel owner of an illegal labor camp who had abused Warren five years ago.

Over ten years ago, after Warren Dmiosys fell off a cliff in a carriage accident, it had been the slum human traffickers who picked him up.

They sold him to a farmer in the southern part of the empire for a pittance.

While the empire’s capital was in chaos over the disappearance of a “Duke,” the sparsely populated southern countryside knew nothing of the incident.

Due to the accident, Warren had suffered from mutism and had been abused by the farmer for two years, attempting to escape several times but being sold to someone else each time.

Eventually, he ended up on a small island outside the system, called ‘Staturk.’

Staturk was an island where orphans, criminals, and the disabled were exploited like slaves, far from the empire’s reach, and illegal labor and human trafficking were rampant.

Warren stared at the factory owner of Staturk with an expressionless face.

“You hid like a rat. Took you five years of effort to find.”

In Staturk, men and women of all ages were shackled and forced to work.

He had regained his speech only after surviving two years under the farmer’s control, but escaping the island, surrounded by the sea with no imperial oversight, was nearly impossible.

Yet Warren had managed to escape.

Though his hands were stained with blood during the process, he felt no hesitation.

After over eight years, the factory owner saw him and turned pale as if he had seen a ghost, kneeling on the ground.

“Please… I beg you, spare my life, my lord!”

“My lord? When was I ever your lord? I think you called me a slave before, didn’t you? Slave Philip.”