Duchess Mecklen’s Elegant Revolt - Chapter 33 Part 4

At first, Eleanor thought Ernst was joking.

It was understandable—despite his words about kneeling, his expression remained as stoic as ever.

But Ernst was not the type to say something he did not mean just to mock someone.

Eleanor lifted her head slightly higher.

“Am I truly someone worth kneeling for?”

“Yes.”

“What do you see in me?”

For the first time, a flicker of complicated emotions crossed Ernst’s usually confident face.

His feelings were certain, but when he tried to put them into words, they did not come easily.

As he gazed into Eleanor’s deep, calm eyes, he finally managed to speak.

“…You are different from other women.”

Countless noble ladies, including Brianna, had tried to catch his attention at least once.

Among men of his age and rank, there was no one who stood equal to the Duke of Mecklen.

Yet, Ernst had never been interested in romance or marriage.

His life was solely about duty.

Wielding his sword, training his knights, managing the affairs of the palace—

His days passed so quickly that even 24 hours felt insufficient.

But the one person who had ever slowed the relentless pace of his life was Eleanor.

“I still have the quill pen you gave me as a birthday gift.”

“……”

“I find myself looking at it often.”

Looking back, he realized that he had never once given Eleanor a proper gift.

He had simply assumed his mother would take care of such matters.

But after confiscating all the household funds that Caroline had managed, he had come to a realization.

Eleanor had never truly owned anything within the Mecklen family.

Not a single dress purchased in her name appeared in the financial records.

It meant she had been rotating through the same dresses she had brought from Hartmann all this time.

And yet, she had never once complained.

After learning this, he found himself looking at that quill pen more and more often.

“How did you afford that pen? It was quite expensive, and I doubt you had the money for it.”

“I borrowed a little from Baroness Berenice.”

Berenice had assured her she could repay it whenever she could and had obtained the pen for her.

Now, thanks to the rapid success of Hippias’s Ceylon tea business, she had long since repaid the debt with interest.

Hearing this, Ernst’s expression turned even more serious.

“That is why I need you.”

“……”

“I have ordered my mother to take her own life.”

“……!”

At his unexpected words, Eleanor’s eyes widened.

Yet, as he spoke of his mother’s death, Ernst remained indifferent.

“When she dies, you are the only one who can manage the household.”

“……”

“There is no one else I want to entrust it to.”

As he spoke, the tangled thoughts in Ernst’s mind gradually unraveled.

Now he understood why he wanted her so desperately.

Why the sight of her standing beside the emperor filled him with an uncontrollable urge to take her back.

Why his jealousy and desire surged into a rage he could barely contain.

“If none of this had happened, you would have remained by my side.”

Regret filled him.

Losing Eleanor was a mistake.

It was only after she had left for the emperor’s side that he began to see her true worth.

And now, belatedly, he was filled with remorse.

Marriage had always been nothing more than a formality to him, a step he would have to take someday.

He had never considered cherishing what came after.

He should have done better back then.

If he had—

She would not have left him so coldly.

The lingering regret came from knowing he had not given his all.

“I can give you everything the emperor gives you.”

“……”

“You told me before.”

At the charity ball, over a glass of wine, Eleanor had told him not to love her anymore.

“It’s too late now, but…”

“…Ernst.”

“I love you.”

Even in his nightmares, he had confessed these feelings.

The farther she drifted from him in reality, the more he clung to the Eleanor in his dreams.

But in those dreams, she always said the same words, wore the same expression, and in the end—

She met her death.

“I have never desired anything in my life as desperately as I desire you.”

“……”

The Eleanor in his dreams had always stepped onto the guillotine with an air of liberation.

As if she would rather die than choose him.

That was what hurt the most.

“I want you by my side.”

Ernst’s hand moved toward Eleanor’s face.

She flinched slightly and lowered her head.

But his hand did not stop and instead came to rest against her cheek.

It was unexpectedly gentle.

Not the rough touch she had anticipated.

A tenderness she had never experienced from him before.

His careful fingers trembled ever so slightly.

As if he were nervous.

“Can’t you accept me?”

“……”

“The wedding hasn’t happened yet.”

So if she changed her mind now—

“Do I not have even the slightest chance?”

His final question came out hoarse, his voice cracking at the end.

Compared to the man who had just moments ago been ready to kill Vito, the difference in his demeanor was staggering.

Eleanor slowly took hold of his hand, pulling it away from her face.

“Ernst.”

His hand trembled in hers, yet his expression remained as rigid as stone.

Like an unfeeling statue.

His words were sweet declarations of love, yet they felt devoid of sincerity.

But beneath his impassive mask, countless emotions were buried.

She could feel his heart through the warmth of his touch.

“I’m sorry.”

“……”

“I haven’t changed.”

No matter what he said—

“I love Lennoch.”

A faint crack appeared in Ernst’s expression.

“Even if you take me by force right now, I will never say that I love you.”

“Why…?”

“Because I’ve already given everything to Lennoch.”

At that moment, Ernst’s hand turned ice cold.

As if time had frozen, he stood motionless. Eleanor did not avert her gaze as she spoke again, her voice quiet but firm.

“If you truly wish to take me away from Lennoch, then kill me first.”

“……!”

“That way, at least you can have my corpse.”

Her words were cruel, yet she did not waver.

“There is no other way for you to have me.”

It felt as though something had shattered inside him.

Eleanor’s death was one of his greatest fears.

He had seen it in his nightmares, countless times, repeating over and over.

To hear the very person he wished to keep alive telling him to kill her—it was a merciless demand, yet Ernst found himself utterly speechless.

Each word she spoke dug deep into his heart like a blade.

“Do not cross the line any further.”

“…Eli.”

“This will only lead to ruin. Not just for you, but for everyone connected to the Mecklen family. You have always valued your house as dearly as your own life. When the outcome is so obviously a tragedy, why do you refuse to stop?”

His lips paled as his trembling hands clenched into fists.

Like an unstable sandcastle, the walls of his emotions were beginning to collapse.

“I want revenge against your mother. If not for her, my life would have been far quieter, far more peaceful. Perhaps, we might have even become a proper husband and wife.”

“……”

“But I do not want the downfall of the Mecklen family as an excuse for that revenge.”

That was why—

“I have taken the long road back, preparing to bring her to trial properly. To others, this might seem foolish, but this is my belief, my idea of rightful vengeance.”

Drip.

At first, he thought it was rain.

But the sky, painted in the hues of sunset, remained clear, without a single cloud.

“So stop exhausting yourself with these emotions.”

Drip. Drip.

“You are far too valuable to be lost like this. Baden needs you. And this is not just the word of a director, but of the person who will take the throne.”

Tears fell from his once impassive face.

“—This is the command of the Empress of Baden.”

The relentless stream of tears carried an ocean of emotions within them.

It seemed that everything was finally coming to an end.

A bond entangled since their past lives was now unraveling at last.

Eleanor watched in silence as the hand that had once gripped hers fell away, powerless.

***

The plains were drawing near.

Through the gaps between the temporary barracks, the crippled village chief narrowed his eyes at the scattered knights standing guard.

There were more people stationed below than he had expected.

He had been waiting for a chance to escape into the mountains, but the narrow path made it difficult.

On top of that, he was injured, and he still had to kill Vito.

This had raised the level of difficulty significantly.

Thus, he had waited for the right opportunity and descended to this point.

The old man carefully gripped the rope binding his wrists, making sure not to break it just yet.

For now, he still had to pretend to be a captive.

The knights led them toward Captain Huger.

“These are all the farmers?”

Huger glanced over the elderly village chief, the child Lennoch, and Vito, tilting his head slightly.

“There was one more, but by the time we arrived, he was already dead.”

“Dead? By whose hand?”

“It appears to have been Duke Mecklen. There were clear signs of an intense battle.”

“Duke Mecklen?”

At those words, Huger’s voice rose in surprise.

“Where is he now?”

“He is speaking with the director…”

“What?”

Before the knight could explain in detail, Huger shouted.

“Then who is guarding the director?”

“W-well, she said she would be fine and ordered us to escort the captives down first…”

“You fool.”

Huger scowled.

His direct orders from the emperor had been to prioritize Eleanor’s safety above all else.

And yet, the knights assigned to guard her had all come down.

Huger immediately split the troops stationed below.

Half would stay to guard the plantation workers, while the other half would climb back up the mountain to protect Eleanor.

“We move to the plantation at once.”

“Yes, sir!”

The knights responded loudly and followed Huger in swift pursuit.

In an instant, half the troops disappeared, leaving the area around the temporary barracks more exposed.

Watching everything unfold, the village chief allowed himself a satisfied smile.

‘This is my chance.’

His beady eyes darted back and forth.

Five guards remained.

Ten meters away, Vito and the child Lennoch stood under watch.

Three knights were stationed nearby.

The old man quickly calculated how to eliminate them and reach his target.

‘I need to find an opening.’

He identified the weakest-looking, most inexperienced soldier patrolling the area.

He would take his sword first.

“Urgh… Ugh… Gurgle…!”

“What the—?”

“What’s wrong with him?”

Suddenly, the old man began foaming at the mouth and convulsing violently.

Startled, a young soldier rushed toward him.

He was the exact target the old man had chosen.

Seeing the whites of his eyes roll back, the soldier panicked and grabbed his shoulder.

“H-hey!”

“Guh… Guhh…!”

“Someone get a doctor! Is there a doctor?”

“There isn’t one! Someone needs to go back to the village and—ugh!”

The soldier coughed up blood and collapsed.

At the same moment, the old man’s blade swept through the legs of the surrounding guards.

“Argh!”

“Aghh!”

As the soldiers crumpled to the ground, the old man swiftly rose to his feet.

Everything had happened within seconds, leaving the remaining knights momentarily frozen.

But for the old man, that brief hesitation was all he needed.

He charged toward Vito in an instant.