NRAL | Chapter 137

Chapter 137

The Duke of Astria’s Nightmare

“Don’t you dare try to fool me! Do you think I’d fall for such lies…!”

Surprisingly, even though the Duke of Astria looked like he could collapse at any moment, he didn’t fall for her lie so easily. It had only been a week since he was imprisoned, so he still had enough strength left for rational thinking.

Though it won’t last much longer, Eleanor thought, quietly scoffing as she tilted her head innocently.

“A lie? What are you talking about?”

She blinked her large eyes as if she truly knew nothing.

It didn’t matter to her whether her father believed her or not. Either way, he would never learn the truth for the rest of his life.

But even the small possibility that what she said might be true would make his reality even more miserable. And that was exactly what Eleanor wanted.

Grinding teeth echoed loudly through the dim solitary cell.

The Duke glared at Eleanor with such murderous rage it looked like he might tear her apart right then.

But whether it was because his strength had weakened from the unfamiliar prison life, or because he knew the guards would rush in and stop him if he attacked her, he didn’t move—even though she stood close enough for him to reach. His body only trembled violently.

Eleanor smiled, enjoying the sight.

“Anyway, Father. I have good news for you.”

She wanted to keep mocking him, but her visitation time was limited. It was time to get to the point.

“The result you’ve been waiting for has finally come out. Guess what it is?”

“……”

“When someone speaks, you should respond, Dad. Why are you shutting your mouth like a clam? Should I just leave?”

When the Duke stayed silent, Eleanor frowned as if annoyed and pretended to turn back, threatening to leave.

The way she looked down at him with cold eyes—it felt strangely familiar to the Duke. Because it was the exact tone and attitude he used on her in the past.

Realizing how the roles had completely reversed, the Duke clenched his jaw.

Eleanor watched him react, amused, and finally revealed the truth.

“You’re in such a pitiful situation, so I’ll tell you. Nora is pregnant.”

“…What?”

This time, even he couldn’t stop himself from reacting. His face twisted, and he quickly spoke.

“Nora… what?”

“Pregnant. Just like you ordered. Interesting timing, isn’t it?”

Yes, that’s the reaction I wanted. Eleanor continued excitedly.

“Given the situation, I doubt the child will be accepted as Arlo’s son. But you could still raise him as the heir of Astria, right?”

“……”

“Oh, or is that difficult too? Since he won’t have black hair, like you wanted.”

At the mention of black hair, the old man’s frail body clearly flinched.

And at the same time, an icy, hateful stare pierced into her skin.

Just mentioning “black hair” completely changed his expression. And that reaction gave Eleanor another clue.

“I’m really curious, Father. Why are you so desperate to have Nora bear your heir? You could have just brought in a branch family member and made them heir. You know that would’ve been quicker and easier.”

“Shut up, you lowborn brat! You ungrateful animal!”

He raised his voice, unable to hold back anymore.

“Lowborn brat?” Eleanor laughed and shrugged playfully.

“Well then, let me guess.”

It wasn’t hard to figure out the reason.

He always avoided talking about her mother.

The story Damien told her about her father’s hatred.

The blue emerald necklace he kept in his drawer.

His irrational obsession with an heir who had black hair.

Putting all of those together, there was only one conclusion.

A romantic conclusion—something that didn’t suit the Duke at all.

“Don’t tell me… you wanted the new heir to carry your and Mother’s blood? So your ‘love’ with Mother could continue through that child?”

Eleanor frowned in disgust. It truly made her sick.

That a man like him, who knew nothing about real emotion, made such a plan because he missed his long-dead wife.

“Don’t you dare call her your mother!!”

The Duke snapped, lunging at her.

Clang! The chains tightened sharply.

When she blinked, his fist was already right in front of her face. If she had been half a step closer, she would have been punched in the stomach.

“Ah, so it is true. Disgusting.”

But Eleanor wasn’t surprised. She simply laughed at him.

After all, she wasn’t here to be frightened—she was here to frighten him.

“You filthy—!”

“But what will you do now, Father?”

She cut him off before he could insult her again.

Her voice slid out like a whisper from a snake.

“The blood you cherished so much from Mother… it isn’t in Nora. It’s in me.”

Her voice was quiet, but in the silent prison cell, it sounded loud and clear.

The Duke froze, staring blankly up at her.

His violet eyes shook violently.

His lips hung open, like someone whose entire life had just been denied.

“…What?”

His voice trembled.

Eleanor only smiled.

The “impossible” thought he had—was the truth.

All his efforts to continue the family line were meaningless.

From the start, he had been dancing in the palm of her hand.

“Ele… Eleanor…!”

“Yes, Father. Eleanor. I told you earlier. I’m your daughter. Eleanor.”

“Eleanor Astria!!”

The Duke screamed her name again and again.

His real daughter—his and Meredith’s own blood—had pretended to be fake and personally dragged him into prison.

He didn’t want to believe it.

Maybe she was lying again.

She hadn’t shown proof.

But even without evidence, he knew. Instinctively.

This girl was truly his daughter.

The moment he realized that even a real child could pretend to be fake, all the mysterious pieces finally fit together.

“Why!! Why would you do this!!”

He reached out desperately toward her, demanding an answer.

Why she pretended to be a fake.

Why she ruined him when he gave her a luxurious life.

Why she betrayed her own father.

Eleanor scoffed. Even after explaining so much, he still didn’t understand.

“I told you. I hate everything about you.”

Including the part where you can’t even understand my hatred.

Even after that, he still didn’t get it.

His bloodshot eyes glared at her like he wanted to kill her. Seeing him reminded her of her past—of how she once trembled before him—and her stomach twisted in disgust.

It was time to end this.

“Take good care of your new child, Father. Aren’t you curious? You planted an unknown seed in unknown soil. What kind of sprout will grow?”

“Stop! Don’t you dare walk away!”

He reached for her again, but the chains only clattered loudly.

He couldn’t move any closer.

Unlike Eleanor, who was free, he was now a prisoner.

“I won’t be trapped here forever! Once I get out—I’ll make you—!”

“Yes, I know. You won’t stay in prison long. Even though you were sentenced to thirty years, you’ll return to the mansion long before serving even a third of it.”

Eleanor nodded calmly.

Her father was not someone who would be crushed easily. The talent who raised the Astria family to this height—he would surely find a way out of this crisis.

That was exactly why she begged the emperor for a special request.

“But Father… look at yourself. You look like this after only three days. What will you look like after three months? After three years? Do you really think you can endure?”

A life in a dark solitary cell, without light, without anyone to talk to—even the greatest of men couldn’t withstand it.

The Duke seemed to realize it too. His face turned white.

His once-broad shoulders trembled.

He was afraid.

Afraid of the time and loneliness waiting for him.

It was truly a satisfying sight. Eleanor let out a small laugh and gave him one last look.

“…Father. If you’re lucky enough to escape one day and come for revenge, then prepare yourself.”

The man who once stood proudly in sunlight, dressed in luxury…was now staring up at her from a dark, filthy cell.

Eleanor slowly stretched out her hand, then tossed something she had been holding in her pocket.

“This time, my blade was aimed at myself. Next time, it will be aimed at you.”

Clink—

A small object fell onto the floor.

A small statue of Triten, the benevolent goddess.

“It’s a gift.”

With that, Eleanor left the damp, dark cell.

Creak—

The heavy iron door slammed shut.

Left alone with no one to talk to, the Duke sank to the floor and stared at the statue lying a short distance away.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness and captured the goddess’s gentle smile. He stared at it for minutes… then more minutes… until he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Hah… haah…”

His stiff fingers moved up to his throat.

His long, dirty nails clawed at his skin, scratching and digging in violently, as if cutting himself would help him breathe.

Blood soon started to drip, but he didn’t stop.

“Eleanor… Eleanor…!”

The name he muttered like a curse became weaker over time.

At some point, the name changed to Meredith.

And then, even that faded.

Only the faint sounds of insects scratching in the darkness remained.

The Duke lay still on the hard bed, motionless like a corpse.

Praying desperately for this nightmare to end.