Lady Felice’s Secret Class - Chapter 74

Claude slowly turned his head to meet Felice’s gaze.

“The day my existence became public, the lofty title of royalty would come crashing down, so it was only natural. Being the princess’s husband—that was the only pride my father ever had.”

His blue eyes clearly held sadness, but his voice was calm, almost as if he felt nothing at all.

“Ironically, after my father passed away, I was finally able to have all the good people who’d been around him by my side. The Queen, my brother, my aunt… Everyone who had once stood with my father is now with me. Most of the staff at the Racliffe estate have been working here since I was ten years old.”

He smiled, a small gesture of genuine comfort for her.

Felice swallowed back her tears, deeply moved by his careful kindness, and nodded.

“I hope you’ll be able to finish these lessons successfully, Miss Felice, so that you can pay off your debts. I truly wish for you to be free of the chains of your father, so you can move forward with your life.”

Felice resolved to throw herself into the lessons with all the passion she could muster.

“Thank you for your thoughtfulness. Truly… If there’s anything I can do, even outside of these lessons, I’ll do my best.”

* * *

Once they arrived at the hospital, Claude called over the head nurse while Felice took the baron to his room. He explained that he wanted Baron Kelton to remain admitted as long as possible—and of course, didn’t forget to pull out his wallet.

The nurse beamed as she accepted the money.

“Of course. I’ll keep a special eye on him for at least a month.”

It seemed the amount he handed over would cover just that long. Claude gave a small, amused nod. Problems solved by money were always the easiest.

“What’s Baron Kelton like when he’s not drinking?”

He had heard some things about the baron while looking into Felice’s situation, but he hadn’t paid much attention. A failed businessman and a gambler—there hadn’t seemed much worth remembering.

It just made sense that Felice would do whatever she could for money.

“He’s very quiet. He’s more docile than most patients. But the moment he gets his hands on alcohol, he turns into a completely different person. You’d hardly believe he’s the same man.”

She shook her head in exasperation.

“And the real issue is, he manages to get alcohol every other day, somehow. Because of his drinking, the leg he had surgery on two years ago is still a mess—if he doesn’t quit, he’ll keep getting infections.”

“Is it bad enough to threaten his life?”

“It wouldn’t be surprising if he died soon. But then again, people can be surprisingly tough. Still, as long as he’s in the hospital, he won’t last long. And… we have a lot of patients who run away from here—too many for us to really keep track of. The doctors hardly look at the files for poor patients, but since he’s Baron Kelton, we give him at least this much attention. The government does send money for him, after all.”

Claude nodded slowly at the nurse’s words.

At that moment, Felice appeared, crossing the corridor with her familiar gentle smile, and apologized to the nurse.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. You must be exhausted, Miss Felice, coming out here at this hour.”

“Um… how has my father been lately?”

Felice asked the nurse about her father’s condition, while Claude slipped into the hospital room.

If the government was paying for the Baron, it was probably thanks to Admiral Paul Mellon’s influence. Claude recalled the many medals the admiral had been awarded.

He entered the single room, which was cleaner than expected. Baron Kelton, looking as if the drink had started to wear off, stared blankly at Claude before turning away.

“I have the Kelton family’s sword.”

Claude said, glancing at the nightstand by the bed.

On it sat a childhood portrait of Felice.

When Claude reached toward the painting, the Baron sharply slapped his hand away and glared up at him.

“It’s just a lump of melted metal. It means nothing. What does it matter if you have it?”

Out in the corridor, Felice finished speaking with the nurse, her footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.

Claude glanced behind him, then fixed his gaze back on the baron.

“You can either stay here quietly and pray for your daughter’s future, or you can quit drinking and move forward. If you feel even a bit of guilt for letting your daughter bear all the consequences of your own failures and resentments, you should make a choice.”