Duchess Mecklen’s Elegant Revolt - Chapter 8 Part 3

The air inside was heavy and stifling, making it difficult for Eleanor to breathe. She had to wave her hand in front of her face several times to clear the air.

Descending to the lower levels, Eleanor stopped in front of a rusted iron door with peeling paint.

“Is this the place?”

“Yes, his hands are bound, so he won’t be able to harm you.”

The warden, explaining as he went, unlocked the door with a key. Contrary to what one might expect, the cell was quite plain, resembling an ordinary room with only a shabby wooden bench as furniture. Childe was sitting on it.

“Madam…?”

Childe, his voice hoarse, was surprised to see a woman in a dress in such a place.

“I’d like to speak with you for a moment.”

“Please, feel free.”

At Eleanor’s request, the warden tactfully stepped outside. As the door closed, the room dimmed again, though not so much that they couldn’t see each other.

“……”

“……”

Childe, avoiding Eleanor’s gaze, turned his head first. She followed him and sat down on the bench. Childe’s face was marked with a dark shadow, the result of not having shaved for a long time. His eyes focused on the empty air as he began to speak first.

“A beautiful lady like you doesn’t belong in a place like this. I should be paving a path of flowers for you, not bringing you to such a squalid spot. My apologies, Madam.”

“…You’re just as you always are, even here.”

It seemed such words were a reflex for him. Despite the unfavorable situation, Childe’s flirtatious tone made Eleanor chuckle softly in disbelief.

“Is the prison uncomfortable for you?”

“It’s manageable. This is nothing new for me.”

“Nothing new?”

“I’ve been locked up in worse places.” Childe shrugged his shoulders as he spoke. “My father, the Duke of Ezester, is a very strict man. He doesn’t show mercy, even to his own son.”

“……”

“But I assume you have something you’re curious about? It couldn’t have been easy for you to come all the way here.”

Before the conversation about the Duke could go any further, Childe redirected the discussion. Talking about his father was something he wanted to avoid at all costs.

Before diving into the real reason for her visit, Eleanor carefully chose her words. “That song you sang the other day was beautiful.”

“……!”

“I didn’t catch all the lyrics, but the melody was lovely.”

Childe did not react immediately. Observing his face, Eleanor’s eyes were drawn to Childe’s hands, which hung limply, shackled.

“I’ll be straightforward.”

“……”

“I don’t even want to look you in the face right now. But I came here because there’s something I need to hear from you.”

The reason Eleanor had come to the prison was clear. She needed to find out who his accomplice was, someone who could lead her to Caroline. Yet Childe had remained as silent as a clam. His status as the only son of the Duke of Ezester made interrogating him all the more difficult. Although the Duke had publicly declared that he no longer recognized Childe as a member of the family, the fact remained that he was still the Duke’s blood, which made the investigation delicate.

Even after combing through Eros for information, they found nothing but small fry. The investigation was stalled, and everyone involved was growing increasingly frustrated.

“Is there really nothing you want to tell me?”

“…I’m sorry.”

After a long hesitation, Childe finally muttered a word. He wasn’t oblivious to the situation. He had nearly ruined a woman’s life with a single word, something for which he should apologize for the rest of his life. Childe’s hand twitched slightly.

“Even if I had ten mouths, I’d have nothing to say.”

“Why did you ask me to dance that day?” Eleanor, avoiding a direct question about who had put him up to this, asked in a roundabout way.

Childe, who wasn’t slow-witted, quickly picked up on the intent behind her question.

Childe, who wasn’t dull, quickly understood the underlying intent behind her words. “To be honest, I don’t know,” he answered bluntly.

“……?”

“I never saw the face of the person who ordered me to do this. It was just… ‘Do this, and you’ll have enough money to live on for the rest of your life.’ That was it.”

It wasn’t that he knew and was keeping quiet—he genuinely didn’t have the answer. Eleanor realized that Childe had been naively used by whoever was behind this—likely Caroline.

Eleanor felt at a loss for words, uncertain how to respond to his admission.

“I truly am sorry for what I’ve done to you, Madam. But my feelings for you… they weren’t entirely—”

“Lord Childe,” Eleanor interrupted him. “I didn’t come here to listen to your one-sided feelings.”

“……”

“I’ll be leaving now.”

Childe’s head dropped as if he were a child being scolded. Eleanor felt that continuing their conversation was pointless. She rose from her seat and straightened her wrinkled dress. Just as she was about to leave, she heard a muffled voice from Childe, who still had his head bowed.

“I’m useless, anyway.”

“……?”

“I’m just average in intelligence and have no talent for the sword. My father wanted me to graduate at the top of my class at the academy, but all I managed was to barely graduate. I’m a son who falls far short of his expectations.”

The sound of metal clinking echoed from the handcuffs Childe wore.

“My father always compared me to my cousin. Everyone loves him. He’s the future of Ezester. So, even if I’m expelled from the family, it won’t harm the Ezester name at all.”

“…What are you trying to say?”

“My father will abandon me. Even if I’m sentenced to death in this trial, it won’t faze him in the slightest.”

Eleanor turned to look at Childe once more. He had lifted his head, and his eyes were tinged with a faint redness.

“The person behind all this probably knew that already,” Childe said with a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m just a discardable piece.”

“……”

“So, you’d be better off investigating someone else. I’m… sorry I couldn’t be of any help, Madam.”

***

After Eleanor finished her meeting with Childe, the warden, who had been waiting outside, locked the iron door behind her. As she walked away, Eleanor felt as though her steps were twice as heavy as when she first entered the prison.

“I’m just a discardable piece.”

Childe’s words echoed in her mind like a haunting refrain. As she walked through the dark, oppressive corridors and finally emerged outside, she was greeted by an unexpected figure.

“You were in there for quite a while.”

“Lennoch?”

Eleanor, who had been about to pass by without noticing, stopped in surprise when she saw Lennoch standing by the door. His usual escort was nowhere to be seen, and the soldiers guarding the prison stood at attention, their posture rigid with the Emperor’s presence.

“Did you have a productive conversation with him?”

“More or less.”

“What did you two talk about?”

Lennoch casually guided Eleanor to a small, secluded path. It was a quiet trail, making it easier to converse as they walked. Without even realizing it, Eleanor found herself following his lead and began recounting the conversation she had just had with Childe.

“Lord Childe believes he’s already been abandoned by his family.”

“Does he now?”

“He seems to have given up. And… I doubt we’ll be able to uncover who’s behind all of this.”

Eleanor’s eyes dropped slightly as she continued walking, her thoughts lingering on Childe’s limp wrists as he sat in his cell.

“He deserves to be punished, but…”

“……”

“But the way he’s given up on life… it bothers me a little.”

She couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of similarity between Childe’s situation and her own past. It reminded her of the time when she was wrongfully accused and executed as the one who had killed Caroline.

“Madam?” Noticing the sudden darkness that had clouded Eleanor’s expression, Lennoch called out to her quickly.

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“You startled me. Your face suddenly looked so troubled…”

Only when he saw her smile did Lennoch let out a breath of relief. He had nearly rushed to fetch a doctor, thinking she was unwell.

As he reflexively withdrew the hand he had reached out toward her, she softly asked, “What kind of sentence do you think Lord Childe will receive in the trial?”

“Well, the decision is up to the judge. Even though he’s the Duke of Ezester’s son, there are too many eyes on this case for the sentence to be lenient.”

“Could he be sentenced to death?”

“If that’s what you want, I can see to it.”

“No, quite the opposite. I think the death penalty would be too harsh.”

“Would you prefer flogging, then?”

“But what if he gets an infection and it becomes life-threatening?”

Lennoch noticed the oddity in Eleanor’s hesitant attitude.

‘Is she worried about Childe?’

The thought dampened his mood slightly, and he spoke in a low voice, “Lord Childe wronged you. It’s only right that he faces punishment.”

“Yes, but I can’t help but worry—”

“Do you have feelings for him?”

“What?” Eleanor frowned slightly at the absurd question. “No, I’ve only met him twice.”

‘Then why are you so concerned about him?’

Lennoch’s pace slowed as his thoughts turned inward. He, too, had seen the scandal published in Eros. Even though it was a fabricated story, the vividness of the details had infuriated him, leading him to toss the magazine straight into the trash.

When Lennoch fell silent, Eleanor grew concerned and asked, “Lennoch?”

“Did Lord Childe say anything else to you? Any threats, perhaps?”

“How could he? He’s in no position to threaten anyone.”

“Did he propose any secret deals? Like offering to reveal who’s behind all of this?”

Even as she replayed their conversation in her mind, nothing of the sort came to Eleanor’s memory. She shook her head. “No, nothing like that.”

Her firm tone seemed to ease Lennoch’s tension a little, but he still couldn’t completely relax. He couldn’t shake the worry that Childe might have some ulterior motive, perhaps planning something to secure his release.

If Childe ever tried to approach Eleanor with some strange proposition…

Eleanor, watching the serious expression on the Emperor’s face, grew more and more curious, not understanding what was causing his concern.

***

Caroline was in a foul mood. Recently, nothing seemed to go her way. The runaway maid had evaded capture, and Eleanor, with the Empress Dowager’s support, was strutting around confidently. The scandal she had carefully orchestrated was completely overturned when Eleanor secured a witness at the debutante, rendering all of Caroline’s efforts futile.

A grinding sound escaped from between Caroline’s clenched teeth.

“Madam, the carriage is ready,” the butler announced, keeping a safe distance, unable to meet her gaze directly.

Without a word, Caroline swept past him and climbed into the carriage, her cold demeanor palpable. The carriage of the Mecklen family headed to a boutique she frequented, the same place she had once visited with Eleanor.

“Madam, welcome,” Adolf, the owner of the boutique, greeted her.

He served her tea, but Caroline didn’t even glance at it, instead fanning herself impatiently.

“Send them to the room when they arrive.”

“Yes, as you wish.”

Adolf didn’t need her to specify who she was expecting; he understood immediately. Caroline entered a private room and sat down on the sofa, crossing her legs. The large mirror on the wall reflected her expression, full of dissatisfaction. Her shoes, which tapped the floor impatiently, were a deep, blood-red.

Click.

“Did I keep you waiting long?”

“You’re late,” Caroline snapped, glaring at Evan as he stood opposite her.

Although he was only a minute or so behind, in her current state of irritation, Caroline was in no mood to be lenient. Evan placed the tray he was carrying on the table and poured the tea himself.

“What has you so angry?” he asked.

“Do you really need to ask?”

“I suppose I do, seeing as I’m asking,” Evan replied calmly, taking a sip of his tea.