COARV Chapter 35

A hollow laugh escaped him. Lesche ran his hand through his hair.

Really, had Seria Stern yielded the bed claiming it was his? What on earth… As often happened, Lesche couldn't understand Seria this time either. For a normal couple with no plans to consummate their marriage, the decent thing would obviously be for him to sleep elsewhere. Even the most authoritarian man should show his wife that basic courtesy.

She yields the strangest things. And it's not even in her nature. Seria's peculiar tendency to yield suddenly extended in his mind to Kallis Haneton and the saint. Perhaps because yielding and giving up felt like words from the same category. The thought left a bitter taste.

"Your Grace."

Just then, Butler Ben, who had been listening quietly, spoke with careful hesitation.

"Is that young lady truly 'that' Seria Stern? She seems completely different from the person Linon told me about years ago."

Linon deeply trusted this loyal, honest butler who had chosen to remain at the estate. So whenever Linon came to Laurel Manor, he would share everything from outside news to high society scandals in exhaustive detail. In this quietly dying green estate, such gossip was precious.

Lesche frowned and answered.

"Same person."

"Then she's changed remarkably from what I heard. Did something happen to her?"

"Not an incident exactly."

Lesche continued while watching the slowly moving shadows of the estate.

"She fell in love with some bastard."

And came here transformed like this.

Masha and Ben exchanged glances. The "some bastard" Lesche mentioned clearly wasn't their master, the Grand Duke of Berke—that much was certain.

'Oh dear…'

Though his frame stood a full head taller than most adult men, to the manor's people who had known him since childhood, Lesche sometimes still looked like a boy. Like now, for instance.

"When do the sorcerers arrive?"

Ben answered immediately.

"They were scheduled to arrive at midnight, but the blizzard delayed them. They'll likely arrive in the morning."

"Seria might wake before then."

"I'll ensure they don't encounter each other. Not a pleasant sight for a lady raised gently in the capital."

"Let her see if she wants to. She's not that delicate."

If one thing hadn't changed, it was that. That peculiarly steely disposition of hers. Though previously that steel had manifested as venom, making servants cry and flee wherever she went. Now it had transformed into going out to that cold, harsh glacier every single day.

"Yes, Your Grace."

The firewood crackled as it burned. After checking the clock, Lesche lifted the red tapestry hanging on the innermost wall of the first-floor hall. A hidden space lay behind it. As always, the door was locked.

Lesche pressed the ring on his finger—engraved with half of the Berke crest—into the keyhole with force, pushing it all the way through.

Click.

The precise sound of thousands of gears engaging rang inside the door like clockwork. After waiting a moment, Lesche opened the door and entered.

The distinctive damp smell of a basement rose to meet him. As he descended the short staircase leading underground without hesitation, light flickered behind him. Masha.

"Your Grace. It's very dark."

Lesche descended the stairs without comment. After a moment's hesitation, Masha slowly followed him down.

After descending nearly twenty steps, a vast basement unfolded. Multiple statues of angels and demons were carved in relief on the walls, and in each sculpture's hands were embedded large colored gemstones. Though thick dust covered them, anyone with even a modicum of discernment would recognize the truth: every one was a gemstone large and precious enough to adorn a kingdom's crown or royal orb.

Of course, Lesche didn't spare them a glance. He'd descended to this hidden underground vault of the green estate for one reason only.

In any confined space, where is the most sacred position? An empire's imperial crown, a high priest's insignia, a princess's heirloom, a hero's legendary sword—all are enshrined in similar locations. Directly before the central wall.

Before the central wall of this underground vault rested something similar. A box made entirely of glass so peculiarly smooth it gleamed. Gold bordered the edges, decorated in a line with blue gems the size of quail eggs alternating with green ones, making it clear even to the ignorant that this was an extraordinary treasure.

Just as precious gemstones typically bear names, this glass case carried a weighty title: the Case of the Azure Sea. A treasure long enshrined at Laurel Manor. Had Berke been a kingdom rather than a grand duchy, this Case of the Azure Sea would have been registered as an unofficial national treasure. A treasure capable of casting powerful protective magic, though its power came at a price.

Lesche's face showed no particular emotion at the sight of something so precious. More than showing nothing… Lesche clenched his fist and struck the gleaming glass hard. Once. Twice. Three times. Even as red blood seeped from Lesche's knuckles, not a single crack appeared in the Case of the Azure Sea.

As always.

A flash of deep helplessness crossed Lesche's face. From childhood until now. He'd struck this Case of the Azure Sea hundreds of times, but the only thing that broke was Lesche Berke's—his hands. Even when he'd slashed it with a sword forged from diamonds, not a mark remained on the Case of the Azure Sea. The Grand Duchess's case, cursed with damnably powerful magic.

Laurel Manor had reached its limit. The land would collapse after this season, and the life bound here would collapse with it.

As Lesche habitually lowered his bloodied fist, Masha called sternly, "Your Grace," and produced bandages from her pocket.

"You cannot leave it bleeding like this. Do you have any awareness that you are the Grand Duke of Berke?"

"I have it, which is why I stopped there."

"Good thing I brought bandages."

"So you didn't come to bring the lamp."

"A little of both."

Masha's skill at bandaging was equally practiced. She finished the treatment in moments, then stepped back and suddenly smiled softly.

Though Masha normally smiled warmly quite often, this was the first time she'd smiled in this underground vault. Somewhat surprised, Lesche looked at her, and she said with that smile still lingering.

"If Miss Seria had been here, I imagine she would have widened those blue-green eyes and said, 'Your Grace, have you lost your mind?'"

"We've been apart less than a day. How would you know?"

"Do you think the young lady would react differently?"

"…Probably similarly."

Masha's innate intuition regarding the 'Grand Duchess of Berke' proved accurate once again. That intuition he'd missed slightly while simultaneously never wanting to see again. Reading Lesche's inner thoughts, Masha said gently.

"You should return and rest now, Your Grace."

"Yes."

Before leaving this underground vault, Lesche slowly examined the Case of the Azure Sea. Inside the glass case—enchanted with magic that nullified any attack—lay reddish-brown hair about a handspan long. Hair that had once been soaked with fresh blood.

"My hair remains safely stored here, Your Grace."

Masha's gentle words. Lesche's expression sank.

He remembered young Elliot with tears streaming down his face. He remembered his half-brother's mockery: cut off that precious loyalty of yours and put it inside. Placing hair in the Case of the Azure Sea wasn't simply proof of loyalty. Becoming a guardian of the Case of the Azure Sea meant pledging one's remaining years to Berke.

Trapped forever in this green estate.

'If you're truly a knight for House Berke, put your hair inside.'

Under the late Grand Duke of Berke's consent-filled sneer and silence, Elliot's hands trembled violently. Masha pushed past Elliot and knelt on one knee.

'I'll cut mine instead.'

Lesche couldn't quite remember Masha's expression when she'd said that. However, at the resolute response from Masha—the late Grand Duchess's close confidant—the Grand Duke had only laughed like a madman. No, he'd actually been mad. By that point.

"You suffered much because of my insane father."

"Your Grace. Calling the late Grand Duke of Berke insane—"

"That's putting it mildly."

Masha smiled that ritualistic smile again. Honestly, Lesche sometimes—no, often—couldn't understand.

"Isn't it time to abandon your loyalty to Berke?"

"It's loyalty to the Grand Duchess of Berke, Your Grace. Not to Berke."

"That's what I don't understand."

Masha only smiled without answering. Lesche couldn't know what thoughts had occupied her as she'd watched the late Grand Duchess lose her mind in real time. He turned away.

"I should go up."

"Sleep well, Your Grace."

Just then Ben walked over quickly, carrying simple bedding.

"What's that?"

"If the young lady will sleep in the bed, won't you need something to cover yourself with, Your Grace? I'll bring it up for you."

"No need. It's not like I don't have hands."

"But—"

Lesche took the bedding from Ben and strode toward the stairs. Opening the door to the Grand Duke's personal bedroom, Lesche headed inside. Earlier her hair had been half-wet; now it had dried completely. Nothing to bother with, so he could just lie on the sofa and sleep.

Except one thing bothered him.

Whether "bothered" was the precise word, he didn't know, but in any case, one thing he couldn't ignore and sleep.