Chapter 93. The Appearance of a Rival
Loic sat on the window ledge of Enolius’s room, staring outside.
The tall spires and sweeping view of the Ducal Castle lay before him, but none of it was enjoyable.
“My power… sealed?” he asked quietly.
As the setting sun slowly painted the castle walls, Enolius replied,
“It’s only a guess, but I do feel a faint, unusual energy from Her Grace’s body.”
“But last time you said there was nothing.”
Loic remembered when Enolius had once cast healing magic on Annette.
“At that time, I really couldn’t sense anything.”
The mage shrugged.
Even then, Enolius had said something was strange.
After all, a person without magic shouldn’t be able to absorb such a powerful amount of mana without harm.
“Couldn’t she just have a tiny bit of magic?”
“For being small, the energy is far too pure. I’m not certain whether it’s magic or divine power.”
Enolius’s eyes flicked upward in thought.
“Perhaps a priest would see more clearly than I can.”
“But the Grand Duchess…”
She showed no awareness of such power at all.
“Doesn’t it strike you as odd?”
“What do you mean?”
“Her Grace. Wasn’t she once infamous as the false saintess?”
Loic frowned at the irreverence, though he’d heard of it before.
Because of a prophecy, Annette had once been hailed as a saintess—but when the true saintess appeared, everyone scorned her.
Loic’s chest tightened.
How much must that young girl have suffered…
“If she had manifested even a little divine power, people wouldn’t have doubted she was the real saintess.”
If someone had deliberately sealed Annette’s power…
Could it have been the Marquis?
But no—he’d gain nothing from sealing his daughter’s gift. Even a trace of divine power would have been enough to push her forward as a saintess.
“Can’t the seal be undone?”
“We don’t even know if it is a seal. The energy is so faint. And we don’t know if it was forced or chosen.”
Enolius spoke casually.
“Why not just ask her directly?”
Loic turned away to the window again instead of answering.
He didn’t have the courage.
If Annette had sealed her power willingly, she must have had her reasons. If she’d been sealed against her will, it would wound her deeply. After all, she’d already lived under years of cruel suspicion.
And this was still only Enolius’s speculation.
If Annette got her hopes up, only to learn it wasn’t divine power at all—or that no seal existed—how crushed would she be?
“Don’t tell her.”
Loic’s firm words made Enolius frown slightly, but he stayed quiet.
Loic lingered at the window, watching the sun sink lower, before leaving the tower.
Walking back toward the main castle, Loic rubbed his weary face.
He had only been absent a single evening. By now, the work in his office must already be piled high again.
…I miss her.
His hand went to the cravat Annette had tied for him, smoothing it unconsciously.
It had only been yesterday at the lakeside that he realized his feelings.
But before he could even savor them, his body had erupted in a rampage—almost as if mocking him. As if to say, Don’t dream of a future with her. Know your place.
He hadn’t even decided what to do next, and then—of all times—the Marchioness had arrived, forcing him to keep his distance from Annette.
The Marquis truly brought nothing but trouble into his life.
At least thanks to her, the preparations for the delegation were proceeding smoothly.
How had he ever lived without her?
Well—back then, he’d simply worked, empty as the dead. With no joy, no complaints.
But now, everything about that life felt unbearable.
I need to hire more people.
He’d push the smaller tasks down to others so he could spend more time with Annette.
But again, the same thought stopped him.
Every time he tried to imagine a future with her, his cursed condition dragged him back.
His first and only priority was clear:
Break the curse.
Only then could he even dare to court Annette properly.
But how?
He’d searched his whole life and found nothing. Could an answer really appear now?
Still—I’ll try again.
Before anything else, he had to check on Annette.
With the Marchioness intruding, she was surely unsettled, no matter how calm she looked. And she must still be tired from last night…
The thought of “last night” made his ears blaze red.
He remembered her drowsy, tender face in his arms, and his heart ached with longing.
I want to see her right now.
His steps quickened. He cut through the garden instead of his usual path.
That’s when he heard it—Annette’s laughter, bright and clear, mingled with a child’s.
Drawn as if bewitched, he followed the sound.
Annette wasn’t alone.
She was having tea with her youngest brother.
Perhaps I should wait until she introduces me herself…
He considered turning away—until he saw the boy whining and Annette feeding him cake.
He must be at least ten if he was attending the Academy.
Yet there he was, clinging to her side like a spoiled child. Loic didn’t like the sight one bit.
As he approached, Annette spotted him and lit up.
“Loic!”
The boy, on the other hand, showed open displeasure.
“You’re here,” Loic greeted evenly.
“Perfect timing. I wanted to introduce my brother to you,” Annette said.
But the moment she turned to him, the boy plastered on a sweet smile.
“Raphael, greet His Grace.”
Raphael stood and bowed with a composed face.
“I greet Your Grace. I am Raphael Faise.”
Loic returned the greeting coolly.
“He said he came all this way just to see me,” Annette said fondly, ruffling his curly hair.
Seeing her so happy eased Loic’s wariness a little.
Anything that made her smile couldn’t be all bad.
“Make yourself at home while you’re here,” Loic said.
“This isn’t my home…” Raphael muttered under his breath.
This brat…
“Raphael,” Annette scolded lightly. He pouted.
“But it’s not her home either.”
Annette faltered.
“That’s…”
“This is the Grand Duchess’s home now,” Loic cut in firmly.
Adult or child, the truth needed to be stated clearly.
Raphael’s small brows furrowed hard.
“Home is supposed to feel comfortable. But she’s not comfortable at all.”
Loic looked to Annette in alarm.
Is this about today?
Realizing what he thought, Annette’s eyes went wide and she waved her hands at her brother.
“Raphael, who told you that? I’m doing so well here!”
“Then why are people hurting you? Your lips are cracked!”
Annette’s face flamed red, down to her neck.
“T-that’s not it.”
She glanced guiltily at her lips.
“Everyone here treats me so well. Right, Leta?” she asked desperately.
Leta, who had kept her distance since Loic’s arrival, replied crisply:
“No one in the Ducal Castle would dare slight Her Grace. She has the admiration and devotion of all the staff.”
“That’s… an exaggeration,” Annette muttered, flustered. But Loic nodded in satisfaction.
“Lies!” Raphael clenched his fists.
“No one here would treat her well!”
“Raphael! Don’t say such things.”
Annette grabbed his hand, sneaking a glance at Loic.
“Oh my, look at the time,” she said suddenly. There wasn’t even a clock in sight.
“Loic, I should take Raphael back to his room. I’ll see you later!”
She tugged her brother along, and though Raphael dragged his feet, he followed.
But Loic had seen it—the boy baring his teeth at him like an angry little dog.
Well, I didn’t expect this.
That child was openly hostile, guarding his sister fiercely.
He wouldn’t try to lure her back to the capital, would he?
As he watched Annette and Raphael walk away, followed quickly by maid and knight, Loic felt a pang of unease.
It seemed obstacles to Annette kept multiplying.
