Duke, Please Fail! - Chapter 69

Episode 69

As soon as work ended, I headed straight to the village. I greeted familiar faces as I entered the square, and somewhere in the distance, I heard the sound of a flute. A man with a blindfold was playing music in one corner of the square.

‘It’s difficult to hear it unless it’s festival time.’

Although I didn’t know him well, his skill seemed considerable. Quite a crowd had gathered, so he seemed to have been playing for quite a while.

“Oh? Estate manager.”

“Hello, Faust. I think this is the first time I’ve seen this person. Who is he?”

“A flute poet who arrived two days ago.”

“Don’t they usually not accept new residents?”

“It seems Arette let him in. Perhaps he misjudged the festival period.”

“Do the Duke and the others know about this?”

“I wouldn’t know. Since he’s leaving anyway, I guess they didn’t mind him being here for a short while.”

Faust laughed heartily and put his arm around my shoulder. While catching up with him, I saw the flute poet again.

As I listened to the beautifully flowing melody, Faust suddenly asked.

“By the way, what’s happening in the square? Did you come out for a drink with me?”

“Ah!”

Suddenly, I remembered my original purpose and removed the arm draped over my shoulder.

“I’m going to see the broker.”

“Did you sell your house?”

“No. I canceled and I’m going to live there.”

“What? Why?!”

The music abruptly stopped at the loud voice. The residents also glanced towards Faust.

Oh, I can’t live like this. I quickly averted my gaze while covering my face.

I thought staying there longer would only disturb the performance, so I put money in the flute poet’s wooden box and moved away.

As I headed towards the broker, Faust stuck by my side.

“Did you argue with His Grace?”

“No.”

“Then why did you suddenly get angry? That’s not a good idea, you know?”

“Why?”

“Well, because, it’s, you see, dangerous. That area is secluded, and patrols might not frequent it, right?”

“That’s true, but…”

“Moreover, living alone would bring so many concerns.”

He kept on with his words from the side, shaking my resolve. I stopped walking and shook my head to gather my thoughts. I need to send Faust away to go to the broker at ease.

“Can’t you go home? It’s past working hours, and Jerome might worry, right?”

“It’s okay for a moment.”

“It’s not okay. If you keep following me, Jerome might think you’re late getting home again, drinking and all that.”

“Threatening with having a child so ruthlessly…”

Faust playfully displayed a sense of betrayal. I shook my head firmly, indicating that I wouldn’t accept his company. He playfully patted my back and gave up.

“Anyway, manager. Don’t sell your house! Don’t even leave the castle. Let’s all have a drink together when we meet next.”

Faust shouted and moved away. 

I waved him off and continued walking. 

The broker’s house was near the square, so I arrived quickly. When I knocked on the door, the broker came out with a bright expression.

“Estate manager, welcome. I was planning to visit you today.”

I followed the broker into the entrance.

“Did someone express interest in buying the house?”

“It’s not a sale, but someone wants to rent it for three years. I was planning to visit you about this. He’ll be coming this way, so come in and wait to meet him.”

“That sounds good, but what about the property…”

I was about to mention that I came to cancel, but the sound of knocking on the door interrupted me. When I turned around, the broker asked for my understanding and opened the door.

The person who came was the flute poet I had seen at the square earlier.

“You’ve come at the right time. The manager is here.”

Perfect timing. I thought to myself in amazement. The flute poet then introduced himself.

“Ah, I’m Hadiger.”

Whether he heard that I was in front or not, he slightly changed his direction. It wasn’t towards where I was standing. I quietly moved to stand in front of him and greeted him.

“I’m Nelly Pepper.”

“Let’s not stand here like this; please have a seat and let’s talk.”

The broker gestured for us to enter. I was about to follow without thinking but glanced back at Hadiger.

The cane tapped the floor and accidentally got caught on the console’s leg. The flower vase on top wobbled precariously. If he continued like this, he would undoubtedly break something.

“Shall I guide you?”

“Yes, that would be appreciated.”

As Hadiger took my offered hand and walked slowly, he limped along behind me. 

We proceeded carefully into the living room. The broker stood awkwardly near the sofa, apparently not expecting this situation.

I gave him a brief smile and then led Hadiger. 

“Be careful of the table in front; it’s just a step ahead.”

“Thank you.”

He replied with a slightly playful tone, carefully avoiding the table and seating himself on the sofa. I sat across from him, next to the broker.

“You’re quite kind, estate manager. I don’t think I need to worry about being turned away.”

…Even though he’s essentially going to be turned away before he even comes in.

Feeling a twinge of guilt, I awkwardly smiled and turned my head towards the broker.

“By any chance, have any other houses come up apart from my cottage?”

“There are other options, but the prices…”

The broker’s voice trailed off, and he glanced at Hadiger hesitantly. Sensing the atmosphere, Hadiger asked with a wry smile.

“Do you not like me?”

“No! It’s our first meeting; how could I already like or dislike you? It’s just that I happen to be using that house.”

“Oh…”

His low, pitiful voice filled the air.

“I see, you had circumstances. However, I did inquire about other houses when I first arrived.”

“That’s right. The price for short-term stays is quite burdensome.”

The broker nodded, picking up on Hadiger’s words. The phrase ‘short-term stay’ struck a chord with me.

What should I do? I pondered, clenching my lips. Hadiger picked up the cane he had placed nearby.

“Please don’t worry about me. I’m used to being homeless…”

How can I not worry when you say you’re homeless? I grabbed Hadiger, who was attempting to stand.

“Wait a moment!”

Hadiger sat back down.

“You don’t plan to be homeless, do you?”

“Inns are too expensive.”

True. The money for a 5-day stay in an inn is similar to the monthly rent for my cottage. But I can’t stay in an inn until the festival; it would cost too much.

What should I do? Should I just rent it to him? He seems to have physical discomfort, and what if something happens to him while he’s homeless?

But it’s also uncomfortable to see Leonel every day!

As I buried my face in my hands, Hadiger softly spoke in his gentle, youthful voice.

“Don’t worry too much about me just because I have some circumstances that might lead me to be without a home.”

Should I make someone as kind as he sits on the street just to avoid a minor inconvenience? 

Nelly Pepper. Are you that kind of person? Can you comfortably sleep with both feet stretched out like that?

I bit my lip and grabbed Hadiger.

“I’ll make the contract.”

“I appreciate the sympathy, but I’m worried I might inconvenience you…”

“No, it’s fine. I just wanted to use the cottage to try living alone, so don’t worry about it.”

“In that case, I’m relieved.”

Yeah. Anyway, Hadiger will leave once the festival is over. What’s a minor inconvenience like seeing Leonel’s attractive face for a few months?

I sneakily recalled Leonel’s face. Confidence rolled off him like a thud along with my heart.

…Can I endure this?

Unaware of my thoughts, the broker brought the contract with a bright face.

“As expected, estate manager. I was concerned that we might end up with a homeless person. But you wouldn’t allow that. Haha.”

“Haha.”

I awkwardly laughed along and took the contract. After quickly skimming through it, I asked Hadiger, who was sitting quietly.

“Would you like me to read it to you?”

“I’d appreciate that.”

After reading the contract without missing a single detail, I looked up.

“Do you have any specific terms you’d like to adjust?”

“I’d like to personally deliver the rent once a week.”

“Once a week?”

“Yes. Even though I plan to stay until the festival, as you can see, I’m a wanderer, so I’m not sure what might happen.”

It seemed natural for him to refer to himself as a wanderer. Memories of desperately searching for jobs and moving around resurfaced, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

I pushed away those unexpected memories and looked at Hadiger again.

“Come to think of it, you have a limp.”

To pay the rent directly, he would have to come to the castle or the management office, but he couldn’t enter the castle freely. Moreover, the cottage was not close to the office. It was even distant from the square.

Renting a carriage to come to the office was almost impossible.

The cottage and the grazing area were relatively close, so borrowing a donkey would be more convenient…

“Do you happen to know how to ride a donkey?”

“No, I don’t. My eyes and legs are like this.”

“Then, I’ll visit every Friday after work. Please pay the rent then.”

“You’re truly kind.”

Feeling a bit embarrassed by the praise, I cleared my throat. 

Hadiger tapped his cane, indicating to go ahead so I read the revised contract.

* * *

I quickly became close to Hadiger. 

I wanted to avoid meals with Leonel, and Hadiger often invited me for dinner. While I was glad to have an excuse, it still felt awkward and uncomfortable to go alone to the house of someone I wasn’t very close to. 

So, I often brought Frer, my neighbor who lived closest.

Whether it was because he was a flute poet or because he traveled all around the country, Hadiger knew many interesting stories. Moreover, he got along well with Frer, so our meals were always enjoyable.

Meeting Leonel occasionally while sitting alone on a garden bench was never pleasant.

“Looks like you visited the flute poet again today?”

“Yes.”

“You seem to meet him often.”

“We’ve become friends.”

He seemed uncomfortable. As I tried to slip away to my room, Leonel slowly stood up.

“Nelly.”

“Yes?”

“Come with me.”

Then he went into his study. Did he have something to discuss about the estate? I reluctantly followed him into the room, forcing my feet to move.

Levance and Lizzy were likely off work, as all the desks were empty. 

While papers were scattered on Leonel’s desk, he was sitting on the sofa arranged in a ‘D’ shape near the fireplace.

As I approached and sat across from him, Leonel got up and came closer to my side.

“Why, what’s wrong?”

“Move towards the end.”

Leonel pointed to the end of the sofa. I shifted my hips to be snug against the armrest of the sofa. As I did, he stretched out at my thigh, leaning his head against it.

“I haven’t been able to sleep for a few days.”

I noticed dark circles under his eyes. Of course, even those seemed charming enough to enhance his decadent beauty.

“That seems to be the case.”

“So, just stay there for a moment.”

Leonel, as if informing me, closed his eyes. I contemplated whether to just go back to my room, but fear of consequences kept me seated.

It wasn’t because Leonel’s voice sounded weak and tired.

‘But what difference will it make if I stay here?’

I twisted my body a bit to look down at Leonel. The bright color of the sofa made his black hair stand out noticeably.

‘It looks incredibly soft.’

I cautiously touched the scattered strands of hair on the sofa with my fingers.

Leonel seemed to be asleep, showing no signs of movement.

With a bit more audacity, I gently played with the ends of his hair. It slipped smoothly through my fingers like fine sand, much softer than I had imagined. 

Lost in thought as I absentmindedly played with the incredibly soft hair, my mind began to wander.

‘I should be seeking revenge. Should I be helping someone who’s sleeping like this here?’

No, of course not! I should quietly escape. Even if I play with his hair, he won’t know. He’s probably in a deep sleep. He won’t notice if I leave.

I carefully moved my body to get up from the sofa, but my hand was caught by his chin.

‘Did he wake up? Did he know I was touching his hair?’

Startled, I turned around, but Leonel still had his eyes closed. I sat back down.

“Leonel, are you awake?”

No response. Was he sleeping? I gently shook his hand, but it fell lifelessly this time, unlike last time.

Maybe he hasn’t woken up yet. I breathed a sigh of relief and moved again. Lifting my heels silently, I headed towards the door. But then, I heard a sleepy voice.

“Do you still hate me?”

I turned around. Leonel was looking at me with his eyes open, in the same position as when he was asleep.

The austere study was surrounded by his intense eyes. His irises were particularly striking, adorned with a vivid hue of red that captivated my gaze.

I still didn’t say no.

I reflected on my life before and after death. Memories of nights spent staying up late, buried in paperwork to the point where it wouldn’t be surprising if I died from it, came flooding back.

In the face of Leonel’s persistent suspicion, both my body and mind were exhausted, yet I poured my strength into my work, even to the point of countering.

I wanted to earn his trust, and it seemed like our relationship was improving. However.

‘If you go out, can you guarantee you’ll come back? How can I believe that?’

It was all my misunderstanding. In the end, I never gained his trust. Death was just as painful as that.

Yet, not every moment spent in the afterlife was tormenting. There were days when I laughed at his playful jokes over a cup of tea.

While he didn’t trust me, his distrust seemed to wane as time passed. He was always the one who carried me to my room when I succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep, unable to fight it. 

Sometimes he’d come in after having a drink, grumbling a bit, but he’d only chide me for being rude and never impose any real consequences.

From a detached perspective, Leonel wasn’t a bad person.

‘The workload was truly murderous, and it did lead to overwork deaths.’

He was quite rare. In comparison to his noble birth, he wasn’t authoritative. Subtly tender-hearted, even. The reason he never said he hated me was probably because of this.

Unnameable emotions welled up inside me. I could feel my face contorting, but there was no way to stop it.

“Nelly.”

The voice calling my name sounded remarkably affectionate.

“Do you still hate me?”

“No.”

I’ve never hated him.

Although he couldn’t have heard the words I swallowed inside, Leonel closed his eyes as if satisfied.

I hesitated for a moment, then returned to the sofa.

A faint smile flickered on Leonel’s lips and disappeared. I looked at his peaceful face and let out a light, long sigh.

‘Yeah. Let’s admit it.’

I harbor no hatred for my revenge. There’s only resentment, a bit of dislike, and some mischief.

If Leonel were to become more honest here, or if our relationship were to grow closer, or if he were to say he trusts me, what would happen?

‘Can I really carry out revenge…?’