Confusion Spreads

Several days later, at the de Broy ducal residence, Lucien was facing his friend Nicholas Meresen.

Nicholas was the eldest son of House Meresen, a marquis’s house, and stood in a position to one day inherit it. He was a year older than Lucien, close in age, and having lived in the Royal Capital since childhood, the two had long shared a close friendship.

Nicholas had attended both Lucien’s wedding and the recent banquet.

“It’s been a while since the two of us met like this. I didn’t expect you to be the one calling me.”

Leaning back comfortably into the sofa, Nicholas raised an eyebrow and smiled. When he received the letter saying Lucien wanted to talk, half of his reaction had been surprise, and the other half the assumption that Lucien must be struggling with married life to the daughter of a political rival.

And that assumption had been correct.

Lucien flushed faintly, folded his arms with a sullen expression, and avoided meeting Nicholas’s eyes.

‘I’ve never seen Lucien like this before.’

He seemed seriously troubled—though Nicholas could not yet tell in what sense.

“There’s no point in mumbling through idle chatter, is there? Get to the point already.”

At Nicholas’s blunt prompting, Lucien’s eyes darted.

“Wait a moment.”

“?”

Just then, there was a knock at the reception room door.

“Excuse me.”

Entering quietly were Lucien’s wife, Marguerite, along with several maids. The maids set out light refreshments and drinks and then withdrew, after which Marguerite also offered a polite bow.

The dress of sky blue and deep navy, striking in its contrast, had been newly tailored by Lucien under the pretext of “for this occasion,” though Nicholas, of course, had no way of knowing that.

When Marguerite raised her head, she smiled gently.

Greetings with Nicholas had already been exchanged. It was not at all unusual for a wife to appear and offer hospitality to her husband’s friend. In fact, Marguerite’s manner was flawless, and Nicholas rose from the sofa where he had been reclining and returned her courtesy with a respectful bow.

“It has been some time, Lord Nicholas.”

“Indeed, Lady Marguerite, you seem well as ever… no, perhaps even more beautiful than before.”

“Oh my, Lord Nicholas.”

As the two shared a laugh, Lucien frowned.

“That’s enough.”

“Yes, please excuse me. Do enjoy yourselves, Lord Nicholas.”

Without seeming at all troubled by Lucien’s obvious displeasure, Marguerite bowed once more with elegance and left the room.

Nicholas, smiling as he watched her go, returned to the sofa—and then stiffened at the look on his friend’s face.

The air around Lucien had turned pitch-black. From his deeply furrowed brow to his narrowed eyes, there was a distinctly menacing aura.

Lucien’s features were naturally sharp and could appear cold, but this was unmistakably irritation.

Though Nicholas had thought she seemed a fine wife, even if the marriage was politically arranged, perhaps Lucien himself was dissatisfied.

“What do you think?”

After a while, Lucien finally spoke, his voice low and tightly restrained.

“About what?”

“About her.”

“Well… she’s not flashy, but she’s calm and composed. I think she suits you perfectly.”

“Is that so?”

“…Huh?”

Nicholas stared. Lucien’s cheeks were faintly red. The murderous air from moments before had vanished, and he now looked away awkwardly.

It did not seem that he disliked his wife.

This was the first time Nicholas had ever seen Lucien like this. Realizing that for the second time, Nicholas felt he was beginning to grasp the truth.

“You married her reluctantly because of a royal order, right?”

“Yes.”

“But she’s better than you expected. She doesn’t seem to dislike us, and she’s pleasant enough.”

“Yes.”

“Then there’s no problem, is there?”

“There is.”

The dark, oppressive air returned at once.

“It seems she was treated terribly at her family home.”

‘…No, what does that have to do with you?’

Nicholas swallowed the question that rose to his throat and instead urged Lucien on with his gaze.

His intuition warned him that this was not a moment to interject carelessly.