Chapter 119
If it were Ailee, even if the Grand Duke did love her, she would likely be a nervous wreck, terrified that his love might vanish at any moment. That’s because Ailee has never truly been loved. People like that clutch the sweet candy in their grasp, unable to let go, terrified of the moment it will be snatched away.
It was obvious how Ailee, who couldn’t even handle a single person properly, would act toward the Grand Duke. She would either be desperate for his love, or she would drive him to exhaustion by repeating don’t leave me. Yes. There was no way that Ailee could be so clever, so… foxy.
The bobbing of his head ceased.
They had arrived at the estate. He was arrogant, in the way of a nobleman who had never once failed in anything he set out to do. He likely felt this even more keenly because his opponent, the woman who couldn’t even defy him properly, was Ailee.
Lane stepped lightly onto the attendant’s back. He disembarked from the carriage with practiced grace and entered the Count’s estate.
***
The moment he opened the door to the main hall, he saw Lizzy wandering around with her mouth full of ice. Lane ignored her, walking straight past. Lizzy, for her part, seemed in no state to mind that he hadn’t even greeted her.
“…Ugh. Uuuugh!”
She looked to be in agony, her jaw clenched so tightly it stood out in sharp relief as she walked around in a daze. Lane passed her by and began to climb the stairs.
Pathetic.
In their childhood, Lane and Lizzy had been comrades in tormenting Ailee. But as they grew older and the battle for succession to the Count’s title loomed, a subtle war of nerves had developed between them.
After Ailee’s marriage, they had both been busy. They frequented high society and visited their father’s chambers often. They had provisionally split the management of the estate territories, and since then, they had fiercely monitored each other’s accounting and operations. Then, one day, in the midst of this back-and-forth war of nerves, an incident—this current one—had occurred.
“My skin… it’s burning, it’s burning…!”
She’ll be like that for at least half an hour.
Just moments ago, Lane himself had been writhing, nearly losing his mind from the same searing pain. But now, as if it had never happened, he watched Lizzy as if she were a complete stranger. With a small scoff, he proceeded to the second floor.
It would be better if she just died.
It was the unfortunate reality of succession battles that no matter how close they had been as children, they were now competitors. But Lane and Lizzy were too evenly matched; unless one of them yielded the title, the fight was likely to drag on. The gap between their current state and the days they had laughed and played together could only widen. However, Lane had always moved purely for his own profit and amusement. He had not a shred of sympathy left for Lizzy now.
Lane clicked his tongue and headed for the Countess’s room. He considered visiting the Count, but that man was useless at the moment.
If he heard the news, his already failing health would probably just give out. He’d drop dead.
Then again, maybe it would be better if he did. That way, when Lizzy finally lost her mind, Lane could hurry up and claim the title. He glanced at his father’s room, a short distance from his mother’s.
As of yesterday, the Count’s health had declined sharply when his deal with the merchant guild was completely severed. The money earned from the secretly imported narcotics had accounted for a huge portion of their income, and now it was all gone. On top of that, they had lost the mine.
What was the reason we lost it so helplessly again?
He chuckled, trying to recall, then shook the thought from his mind.
If he could just get his hands on Ailee, the rest of the problems would resolve themselves naturally. There was no need to think about such complicated matters now. He had been a bit cruel to Ailee today, but that was only because the pain had made him see red, blinding him to everything else.
I just have to be a little kind, pretend to be the good younger brother. So what if the first button was fastened wrong? He could just rip it off and attach something else in its place, pretending it was a button. His foolish sister, so starved for affection, would believe it was the real thing.
No, Father, you can’t die just yet. At least wait until my own position is more secure.
Lane’s eyes gleamed menacingly. He knocked on his mother’s door. The gesture itself, however, was anything but threatening.
“…I thought I said not to let anyone in.”
“It’s me.”
“Lane. What is it, so late at night?”
Illina, who seemed to be suffering from a headache just as the Count was, greeted him with a hand pressed to her forehead. Though it was now deep in the night, she was sitting at the tea table, not lying in bed.
Lane’s gaze slithered around Illina’s room. It wasn’t in complete disarray, which meant she still had enough of her wits about her to be useful. He smiled faintly and closed the door.
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping, Mother, instead of staying up all night like this?”
“If you’re worried about me, don’t be.”
He wasn’t, but he shrugged as if in sympathy.
“Any contact from the Grand Duke’s house?”
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