Chapter 45

“Then, if you’ll excuse me.”

Seated on the wide bed, Blair looked down at Benjamin with a slightly tense expression. The physician carefully removed her shoes and placed one foot on a small stool. With even more cautious hands, he lifted the hem of her dress and examined the pale ankle, calf, and knee in turn, checking for injuries.

“There aren’t any scratches or swelling. Fortunately, it doesn’t seem like you twisted anything either. Do you feel any pain when I press here?”

“Um… no.”

Benjamin tilted his head and glanced over at Edmund, who stood by the door with his arms crossed. Blair followed suit, watching his reaction. The man observing her in silence showed no particular expression.

“Go on.”

“…I’ll check the other side as well.”

At Edmund’s instruction, Benjamin complied and examined her other leg. It was just as immaculate. Faced with her smooth legs, the physician hesitated, unsure what to say. Blair, flustered, swallowed hard.

How foolish. Why did I go with a lie about falling of all things?

It was practically a miracle that she’d managed to return to the banquet hall ahead of Edmund, wearing such a cumbersome dress. But she hadn’t managed to steady her breathing in time. She hadn’t even realized her complexion looked that bad. No wonder Edmund had called for a doctor.

Noticing Blair’s troubled expression, Benjamin met Edmund’s eyes again.

“It seems you may have strained your ankle slightly from wearing high heels all day.”

Conscious of her bare legs exposed in the air, Blair discreetly lowered her skirt. Edmund fixed his gaze on her and twisted his lips slightly.

“That sounds more convincing than saying you fell.”

“…In any case, there’s nothing to worry about, miss. Or should I call you madam now that you’re married as of today?”

“Whatever you’re comfortable with. Thank you, Mr. Jensen.”

Blair forced a smile, doing her best to calm her pounding heart. Even so, Edmund’s gaze, which never left her, felt almost piercing.

Benjamin, who had been kneeling, gathered his medical bag and stood. After bowing politely, he left the bedroom, and the spacious room was left with just Edmund and Blair. With the person who had softened the atmosphere gone, her heart sank heavily, but there was nothing to be done.

Just be honest. If I explain how I feel and what I was thinking, it’ll be fine.

Whether he sensed her resolve or not, Edmund, still standing by the door, didn’t ask what had happened. Instead, he let out a sigh and posed a different question.

“Are you tired?”

“…I am. A lot happened today.”

“I imagine so. Don’t push yourself any further tonight. I’ll call a maid, so it’d be best for you to wash up and rest.”

“What about you?”

“There’s only one bathroom attached to my bedroom. If I suggested we wash together, I think you’d feel uncomfortable, Blair.”

“…Ah.”

After finishing his words, Edmund looked down briefly at Blair, whose face had flushed hot, then turned and left the bedroom. Left alone, she blinked a few times before burying her face in her knees.

***

Footsteps echoed sharply along the corridor of the vast mansion. For a wedding day, it was far too quiet. Were the guests still enjoying the reception? She didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. The sound didn’t reach this far anyway.

Edmund, who had been about to use the bathroom of an empty bedroom some distance away out of consideration for her, came to a stop. Quietly blocking his path was the old butler, Albert. His expression was grave. The fact that he had come in person meant this was no trivial matter.

“What is it?”

“His Grace the Duke of Libert has requested to see you at once.”

“Is this about Benjamin prescribing medicine for Rufus?”

“…I’m not certain, but if I may offer my personal opinion, I don’t believe that’s the case.”

I suppose not. He’s well aware of Benjamin’s capabilities.

With a dry sneer, Edmund turned and followed Albert. But the closer he drew to the duke’s bedroom, the stronger the ominous feeling became.

Ever since Edmund became the sole heir of the family, the duke had consistently supported him. The fact that even the wedding, which should have been a perfect opportunity to display the power of the Libert name, was held in a simple manner was proof of that. And yet, why did this unpleasant sense of foreboding ripple through him?

“I’m coming in, Father.”

Standing before the door, Edmund paused as he always did, then reached for the handle and pushed it open. A moment later, a stench of death that even the thick scent of medicinal herbs couldn’t conceal greeted him.

William Libert was leaning back against the headboard of the spacious bed. As night fell, his sickly pallor deepened, making him look gaunt to the point of resembling a skeleton. And beside him sat Isabelle, bristling with hostility as she glared at Edmund.

After calmly taking in the sight of the two of them in turn, Edmund stepped before his father’s bed and bowed his head.

“I heard you wished to see me.”

“Where is the bride?”

“She’s in the marital bedroom.”

“Waiting for the wedding night, is she?”

“Yes. I haven’t forgotten the long-standing customs of Libert.”

A scoffing laugh came from Isabelle instead. When Edmund slowly turned his gaze to her, she opened her mouth in a gentle voice that was the complete opposite of before.

“As you said, we agreed that ceremonies are nothing but empty formalities. Disposing of such hollow rituals as quickly as possible was truly refreshing.”

Her face was soft, as though she were playing the part of a benevolent mother. Yet the words she directed at the bastard she despised were saturated with poison.

“Then what do you think is truly important? Why don’t you try answering that?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Isn’t it the proof that guarantees the continuation of the family line?”

Edmund’s brow slowly creased. “What exactly are you trying to say?”

“Edmund Libert. Prove before everyone that you and your bride have truly become husband and wife.”

Isabelle declared it with crystal clear enunciation.

“The officiant who acted as God’s representative and the seven attendants have agreed to serve as witnesses. Tonight, consummate the marriage before them. That is the true custom of Libert.”

For a while, Edmund didn’t open his mouth. A laugh suddenly slipped from between his twisted lips, then quickly turned into icy rage. A blue vein bulged across his forehead.

Custom. Yes, it was a custom. The problem was that it was a custom that had died more than a hundred years ago.

“You’re disgracing the family name, Mother.”

“You’re the one disgracing Libert. Don’t you realize that refusing this ritual would only make you look suspicious? You’ve always wanted your legitimacy to be acknowledged. This is your chance.”

“The witnessing ritual disappeared long ago. Reviving it now, are you intending to make a spectacle of a couple’s wedding night?”

“Be honest with your words. I can’t trust you and your bride. I need witnesses to confirm whether you’re a couple truly willing to carry on the Libert line.”

“Please refrain from such base sophistry. As Duchess, shouldn’t you be spending your final years with grace?”

“…You! You! Honey, say something!”

Isabelle screamed, her face flushing bright red with rage. Edmund finally shifted his gaze to his father. As William met his son’s eyes, his face twisted with pain and a coughing fit burst forth. When he spoke again, his voice cracked like dry branches snapping.

“Edmund, you know as well as I do that I don’t have much time left to live.”

William’s breathing wavered harshly. The obsession clinging to his emaciated face was unbelievably firm.

“I need proof. I must see undeniable proof that our bloodline, that the Libert lineage, will continue without being cut off.”

A suffocating silence settled over the bedroom, where the shadow of death loomed heavy.

The duke had always been obsessively fixated on producing an heir. Now that illness had taken hold, it seemed he meant to clutch at descendants with hands as skeletal as his own. What could possibly be offered to stand against that obsession?