Odalisque - Chapter 124

The air in the capital city of Peron was sharp and thick.

It was a bustling city filled with steam automobiles, with the largest train station in the region connecting all the railroads, and factories expanding across the outskirts, their machines running day and night. Yet, it was also a lively place where people from all walks of life gathered, where extravagant parties went on even at night, and festivals and events happened throughout the year.

With such an atmosphere, the city’s major buildings were as imposing as its energy suggested. Among them, the Royal Court building was known for its tradition and history. Adjacent to it was the grandest chapel in Beren, always bustling with pilgrims, even under normal circumstances.

And when a case intriguing enough to draw public interest was being tried at the courthouse? Naturally, reporters from various newspapers camped out with their cameras and pens for hours on end.

Such was the case today.

The hidden life of a noble lady, the only daughter of a prestigious foreign family, who chased a handsome man across borders!

When scrutinized, the case hardly warranted such an uproarious public trial. Journalists with good connections knew that secret negotiations had taken place among several great nobles to keep the matter quiet.

Still, the situation escalated, all because of the mysterious man named Marquis Dietrion. He had insisted on a public apology, forcing open the courthouse doors. Naturally, the newspapers were intrigued by this enigmatic man.

“He must be quite petty if he’s going this far to protect his pride against a defenseless woman,” remarked a reporter waiting in front of the courthouse to his assistant.

There wasn’t much known about Marquis Dietrion. The most objective and accurate information available seemed to be about his appearance.

He had earned some notoriety in provincial towns simply for his looks, leading many to assume he was just some distant branch of a noble family with a face worth looking at.

“Anyone who humiliates Malte like this must be a fool who doesn’t understand his place.”

“Maybe he’s a nouveau riche who suddenly inherited a vast fortune from a relative?”

“And a nouveau riche would dare to touch Malte? Not to mention being tangled up with Eleonore too. He’s turned other members of the upper class, connected to those two families, into his enemies. Would anyone in their right mind do that?”

The reporter clicked his tongue and shook his head. He personally thought well of Luzia, whom he had seen from afar.

He didn’t believe the rumors that Luzia had joined the peaceful pilgrimage to meet a man with ill intentions. Provincial people tended to have narrow perspectives and would close ranks tightly among themselves.

But Peron was different. Unlike the closed-off provincial towns, Peron was full of open-minded judges and lawyers who could evaluate cases objectively.

“At the very least, his ability to stir things up so much is quite intriguing… Oh?”

“It seems that’s the carriage!”

The complaining reporter, rubbing his stiff shoulders, sprang to his feet. His assistant also widened his eyes and pointed at something.

A jet-black four-wheeled carriage adorned with luxurious golden bars came to a stop in front of the courthouse gates. A crowd of onlookers surged toward the carriage, only to be blocked by sturdy guards. The reporter and his assistant were no exception.

Fortunately, the reporter had secured an excellent spot from the start, putting him at the front of the crowd. As a result, he got a clear view of the person emerging as the carriage door opened.

The man wore a black top hat and had his collar turned up, his cravat covering his entire neck. He was dressed in a black frock coat and held an ivory-handled cane in his gloved hand.

His tall frame suited his elegant, all-black attire perfectly. Yet, no one had the mental capacity to take in his luxurious outfit or his impeccable posture. It was his face under the brim of his hat that made everyone forget all else.

His cold blue eyes swept across the crowd indifferently from the shadow cast by his hat. Just this alone made a few people unable to suppress gasps of admiration. The man ignored the sound, as if used to it, and stepped forward.

The reporter watched the man’s face, transfixed.

He had pale skin and sharp facial lines, a face no sculptor could ever carve to such perfection. His lips, straight and red, seemed somewhat irritable, but it only added to his allure.

Although the gathered crowd seemed eager to speak to him, no one managed to utter a word.

The man and his presumed entourage proceeded calmly into the courthouse along the path the guards had cleared in advance. It was neither too slow nor too fast.

Clang!

The main doors of the courthouse, which had been opened for the man, closed behind him. That sound seemed to break the spell, and one by one, the people who had been staring blankly began to collect themselves.

“Phew…”

The reporter, who had let out an involuntary sigh, tried to catch a glimpse inside the courthouse. But the man had already entered the building and was out of sight.

In the end, despite waiting for hours, the reporter achieved none of his goals. Marquis Dietrion remained a mystery, without a single piece of concrete information.

“One thing is certain.”

“…What is that?”

“He’s got such an astonishing beauty that even the great Lady Malte couldn’t help but chase after him.”

The reporter mumbled in a defeated tone. He would get an earful from the editor for failing to obtain anything useful, and it would be difficult to write an article with so little information. But for now, he couldn’t think of anything else.

Absentmindedly, he settled on a headline for his story: “The Appearance of Marquis Dietrion, Blessed by Divine Grace.”

***

The man who had caused such a stir in the capital remained indifferent to everything.

The proceedings of the trial went as Adolf and the other legal advisors had anticipated, and Malte’s reaction was similarly predictable. It was so predictable that it bored him to the point of yawning.

Ignoring the longing glances from people who clearly wanted to speak with him, Dimus glanced up at the overcast sky.

From the moment he entered the courthouse, the movement of the clouds had seemed strange. Now, dark gray clouds covered the entire sky, and though it was not yet sunset, the sun was nowhere to be seen. It seemed likely that it would rain continuously starting tomorrow.

The trial was set to continue for several days, and today was just the first day. Enraged by Dimus’ insistence on appearing in court, Luzia was likely to bring up the false accusations he had faced during his military service at the next trial, so Dimus had to return to his lodging to prepare.

His lodging was one of the most luxurious hotels in the capital, with large windows offering a view of the entire city. Charles had hinted that he could relax and enjoy the evening scenery from there.

But such things were of no interest to him.

All of Dimus’ thoughts were with Adelinde. Why wouldn’t they be?

On the day he left, Liv hadn’t even come out to see him off. The last time he saw her, she had been standing silently by the window. The sunlight reflecting off the unusually shiny glass made it impossible for him to see her expression.

He had left Roman, Thierry, and Philip behind in Adelinde, yet from the moment he stepped out of the mansion, Dimus had felt restless. Deep down, he didn’t want her out of his sight.

At the same time, though, he feared Liv. He kept losing confidence when faced with an opponent he couldn’t overcome.

“I’ve never felt a sense of lack—except when it comes to you.”

He yearned for Liv. But not knowing what to do with that longing, he had fled to the capital to deal with Luzia first—much like Liv had done.

“I ran because I couldn’t handle it.”

He hadn’t understood those words when she first said them, but now that he found himself in a similar situation, he understood a little. She likely couldn’t control her feelings, a sentiment so inexplicable that she simply wanted to push it out of her sight. Since she couldn’t push Dimus away, she had left instead.

Did that mean she had run away with the same feelings he had now?

Dimus understood her fleeing, but unfortunately, he couldn’t entertain such optimistic thoughts. He remembered their conversation in the Adelinde mansion lobby.

Liv had asked if he loved her.

Before he could even answer, she had shown fear.

How could he interpret that fear in a positive light? If he were to say that he loved her, she would likely be terrified and try to run again. Since their reunion, Liv had come to expect nothing from him.

Remembering the indifference and distance Liv had shown during their time in Adelinde, it seemed more natural that she found his feelings burdensome.

“You’re the one who told me to know my place, Marquis.”

That remark had come back to him like a boomerang. Liv had rigorously adhered to her “place,” and as a result, his love had only instilled fear in her.

Because of this, Dimus couldn’t bring himself to clearly define his feelings for her.

He was afraid of her, but he didn’t want her to be afraid of him. If Liv, gripped by fear, tried to leave him again, he couldn’t predict what he might do.