Duke, Please Fail! - Side Story 1 (Part 8)

Side Story 1: Part 8

By fixating on the desire to end his own life, Leonel could momentarily escape the intense longing. 

Ironically, it was thanks to those who aimed to take his life that Leonel’s life was prolonged.

‘So, I let it be.’

But he knew he couldn’t live like this forever. Assassins often used innocent people as hostages. Even if Roger didn’t intervene, it would come to an end soon. The problem was that, with the sudden disappearance of the threat, Leonel was unsure where to direct his attention.

Leonel had to find something to immerse himself in. The most readily available option was, of course, work. He even created tasks that didn’t exist, meticulously paying attention to the number of trees in the forest and the population of animals.

Even the newly hired estate managers left in a hurry. 

Levance also felt the urge to escape. Unable to hold back, he expressed his frustration.

“I can’t bear it anymore, Your Grace! If you continue like this, we’ll have to work without estate managers.”

Arette, looking at the irritated Leonel, grabbed Levance’s forearm. 

“Levance, take a break and come back.”

Forcing Levance out, Arette returned to his place and picked up the documents. After scanning the text a few times, he looked at Leonel. 

Lately, Arette had been witnessing a battlefield through Leonel’s eyes. The red eyes seemed filled with smoke, and the twitching hands seemed ready to grip a sword and cut something down.

Then, at the sound of a loud noise outside, Leonel sprang up. Muscles tensed, and black pupils rapidly dilated before shrinking again. Between the unknowingly clenched fingers, important documents were distorted and entangled.

Leonel stared out the window with a rigid body. Although the people’s cheers were filled with excitement and joy, to Leonel, it sounded no different from the war cries on the battlefield. 

That sound instantly transported Leonel back to the war zone.

Burnt flags swayed haphazardly, soaked in blood, the air thick with a nauseating stench. There was no safe place even inside the tent. It felt like, at any moment, the enemy might break in, kill the subordinates, and set the building ablaze.

“What’s happening?” 

Leonel finally managed to turn his head and asked Arette.

Even inquiring, Leonel’s hands and eyes were searching for his sword. Arette, with an awkward expression, turned his belt slightly to conceal Leonel’s sword from view.

“It’s almost harvest season. The sounds you hear are probably related to festival preparations.”

Leonel only relaxed and sat down after Arette’s explanation. He wiped his forehead several times as if trying to erase something. This wasn’t a war zone. He didn’t have to return there.

However, when cheers echoed again outside, Leonel’s body reacted first. He clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly.

“No festivals. Forbid them.”

“Understood.”

The order was promptly conveyed, and the cheers soon disappeared. Yet, the uncomfortable and fearful memories lingered like a lingering stench, following him everywhere.

“Your Grace, it’s time for dinner.”

Seeing the well-cooked meat, disgust welled up within him. His appetite had waned, but he couldn’t refuse just to clear the meat.

Devondus might have left some planted individuals not fully dealt with yet. If his dietary preferences were exposed, a poisoning attempt might follow. While he could defend against a direct assault, poison wielded by cunning hands was another matter.

Leonel picked up a knife. As he put the meat in his mouth, the memory of piled bodies sliced by his sword surfaced, making him nauseous.

‘There’s still a long way to go.’

If food is sent back, it’s noticeable, but adding spices doesn’t stand out as much. 

Leonel sent everyone away and reached out. He covered the taste with salt and masked the aroma with sugar. The texture was still unpleasant, but it wasn’t to the point of being unable to swallow. 

For a while, he forced himself to eat meat, and with each bite, memories of the war became more vivid.

‘How much longer can I endure?’

As Leonel became more precarious, shadows also fell on the faces of Levance, Arette, and Roger.

Another year passed like that.

During that time, dozens of estate managers passed through Altwood Estate.

Levance teased Leonel with a nonchalant attitude.

“Your Grace, how about drastically lowering the recruitment conditions?”

“We are hiring estate managers, not selling positions.”

“But they’re not coming.”

Leonel nodded as if to say to figure it out himself and looked down at the paper. Before he could say anything else, Levance quickly changed the recruitment notice.

The age was changed from 30 and above to 17 and above, and discussions about status were entirely removed. Experience was not considered either.

However, there were still no people for months.

It was when the second harvest passed, and spring came again.

“Hello. I saw the notice that you are recruiting an estate manager.”

A woman with large, clear emerald eyes stood hesitantly.

Levance, with a bright smile, and Roger, eagerly persuaded her to take the test.

While she stayed for a day, Levance graded the test. The score was excellent. Levance immediately hired her and pushed her into Leonel’s office.

“Your Grace, a new estate manager.”

A woman who seemed to be turning her body with a short introduction looked back. However, Levance had already closed and left the door.

Leonel looked at the brown back of his head, not knowing what to do.

“The new estate manager, huh?”

The woman, surprised by Leonel’s voice, immediately turned to face him. She tightly held her trembling hands forward, bowed deeply, and answered in a shaky voice.

“Yes. I’m Nelly Pepper! I’ll work hard. Please take care of me.”

Like a child stepping into an unknown world, her bright green eyes sparkled with curiosity and fear as she looked at Leonel.

That was the first meeting with Nelly Pepper.

* * *

Early dawn. 

Leonel woke up in his office. It seemed like he had only dozed off for a moment. 

He had dreamt of a nightmare, but he couldn’t remember the details. However, the unpleasant feeling didn’t completely vanish. Overwhelmed by a thick sense of guilt, Leonel covered his face.

It felt like Tatiasun’s blood was still on his hands. Even going outside to the training grounds didn’t improve his mood. The presence of the sword made him nauseous.

Leonel returned to his room. While leaning on a chair with closed eyes, the butler entered.

“Your Grace, I’ve prepared tea.”

He nodded briefly. Upon entering the room, he felt a bit stifled. So, he took the tea and opened the door leading to the balcony.

A warm spring breeze greeted him. The expansive garden was adorned with flowers in various colors. 

They say autumn enriches the soil, and spring enriches the soul. Leonel couldn’t relate to that saying. His spring had mostly passed on the battlefield. The days his parents passed away and the day Tatiasun died—all in spring. To Leonel, spring was a season of loss.

‘Shouldn’t have come out.’

He frowned and absentmindedly sipped the tea. The mild warmth, like the spring weather, only made his mood more uncomfortable.

As he turned to go back inside, a brown furball-like creature scampered in the distance. Under the sleeves of the thin arms, white hands swung weakly but cheerfully.

Just a few days ago, like a squirrel unfamiliar with its surroundings, it had cautiously surveyed the area. Now, it seemed quite accustomed to the atmosphere of the estate.

‘But it won’t last long.’

The duties of Altwood Estate boasted extreme difficulty, with the lord’s strict standards, a limited workforce, and a vast amount of work. Even those with good physical strength couldn’t endure for more than two weeks. Those with both good physical strength and experience could barely last a few months. And the new estate manager didn’t fit into any of these categories.

It was her first time as an estate manager, and her physical strength was not impressive. Compared to the previous estate manager, it seemed like she had neatly arranged straws.

‘Why did she apply for the position in the first place?’

Hadn’t she heard the rumors? Or did she have another motive?

Leonel recalled the appearance of the new estate manager who had come for the first meeting. Her tightly held hands were trembling, her gaze was fixed on the ground, her shoulders were tense, and she seemed to be swallowing nervously.

He couldn’t understand why she was so nervous, but at times, she would mutter incomprehensible words. 

Her small movements, accompanied by wide-open, lively-colored eyes, resembled a rabbit facing a predator.

Although her reactions seemed innocent at first glance, Leonel was not fooled by appearances.

As a prominent candidate for the throne, Leonel was approached by many estate managers trying to win his favor. Some even blatantly tried to seduce him.

‘I hope she doesn’t cause any trouble.’

With a sigh, Leonel averted his gaze from Nelly, who was entering the dining hall and returned to his room. 

The unpleasant feeling had disappeared somewhere along the way, perhaps during his contemplation of Nelly Pepper.

* * *

Contrary to Leonel’s concerns, Nelly truly worked diligently. 

In the morning, she went out with enthusiasm, and in the evening, she returned to the tower, dragging her legs like wet parchment.

It seemed a bit challenging for her to learn and adapt to the work, even at a glance. However, she never uttered a complaint. 

Even when Arette and Levance were ordered to investigate her past, the results were clean. The only change during her three weeks there was that she became less nervous when reporting, though she still occasionally made mistakes that triggered Leonel’s paranoia.

“She seems to make quite a few mistakes. Will she continue to write in the ledger?” 

Levance muttered with a weary expression.

“Yeah.” 

It was an indifferent response from someone who ordered to investigate whether the writing errors were related to embezzlement.

Considering the leniency he showed to other estate managers over the years, it was surprisingly generous. He seemed to have a rather favorable impression of Nelly.

Levance, who had been by his side for many years, and had become adept at picking up even the slightest tone, wore a resentful expression.

“If you’re going to do that, why put people through the trouble of investigating…….”

Levance bit back the rest of his words, refraining from speaking disrespectfully. Regardless of personal preferences, suspicions had to be addressed. It was better to be thorough and move on without lingering doubts.

Leonel, choosing not to express his thoughts, refocused on his work. 

In contrast, Levance found it difficult to concentrate on his tasks.