The Duke's Secret Chapter 6 Albusel Viscount's Garden
"Wh-what are you saying? Did you just call her a witch?"
Leah's voice trembled faintly, stricken with vague terror. Her gaze, unfocused from shock, turned toward her aunt, the Viscountess, whose face had hardened into something cold and unyielding. Despite the roses blooming throughout the garden, the air turned cold as ice.
Her aunt simply continued looking down at her. That gaze held the coldest contempt Leah had ever seen. She looked at Leah as if she were an impurity that had fallen onto her pristine garden.
Leah staggered to her feet from the dirt-stained ground. Every muscle in her body trembled with spasms. She desperately suppressed her emotions and met her aunt's eyes. Once more, she forced out the suffocating question.
"Are you... saying our mother was a witch?"
"Yes."
The short, ruthless answer struck Leah's ears like hammer on iron. Leah swayed on her feet. Her mind went blank and the world spun.
"That can't be true. Mother...! Mother..."
The witch that people imagined was a being who brought misfortune to others through curses and malice. Leah shook her head violently, remembering the face that had smiled at her so tenderly. The mother she knew could never have been a witch who made contracts with demons. Leah forcibly cut off her trembling and spoke firmly to her aunt.
"You must be mistaken."
"You were too young then, so naturally you wouldn't know."
Her aunt lifted one corner of her mouth.
"But I saw it clearly."
The scene from that day rose vividly before her aunt's eyes.
Seeing the bleeding, unconscious maid, Leah's mother had hastily knelt beside her and calmly placed her hand over the wound. Soon, a green light flowed from her fingertips. As that light enveloped the injury, incredibly, the wound began to slowly heal.
Her aunt recalled the memory as vividly as if it were yesterday, then continued while glaring at Leah with cold eyes.
"I know exactly what kind of person your mother was."
Her aunt's certainty and revulsion crushed Leah's heart. Leah's vision blurred.
"Did Father... know too? Then, did Father also... Mother..."
Leah's voice cracked with fear. Had her father thought of her mother that way too? Leah was terrified. Just the thought that her parents, who had loved each other, might not have been the parents she knew made her chest tighten.
Her aunt smiled coldly at Leah's wavering face. She remembered her brother who hadn't believed her. But there was no need to tell Leah that.
"Do I really need to spell it out? Why else would such an accident happen?"
The word "accident" drove a dagger into Leah's heart. The realization that it might not have been a simple accident, that perhaps her parents had died because of the cursed power her mother possessed—Leah swayed, her mind going blank.
"No... that can't be... true."
At Leah's muttering, strong hands seized both her arms. Leah furrowed her brow in pain and glared at her aunt.
"Listen to me carefully."
The Viscountess's voice rang in Leah's ears. The extremely lowered voice was sharper than a blade.
"If you want to protect your brother David..."
Leah's slender head slowly turned. At the edge of her vision sat her young brother, crouched and muttering to himself. A suppressed sob burst from Leah's lips.
"You must hide your power completely. Never, ever let anyone discover it. The moment anyone learns you're a witch, both you and your brother will die. Do you understand?"
Tears dropped from Leah's large eyes. Fear and despair, and the obsession that she must protect her brother, crushed her entire body.
The Viscountess released Leah's arms. Leah moved her reluctant feet toward her brother and collapsed, embracing him.
"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, David. Because of me..."
Throughout history, more women had died under the name of witch than any other. The moment it was revealed that she was a witch's descendant, being sent to the execution platform was a certainty. Her disabled brother wouldn't be spared either.
Never... neither she nor her brother could die.
Leah released her brother. She slowly stood and clenched both hands—these hands that held the miraculous power that had saved her brother from death. Her nails dug into her palms.
Suppressing the pain that felt like her heart would burst, she turned around. Seeing her aunt's face, settled into coldness, Leah bit her trembling lips and spoke.
"Aunt... I'll do as you say."
Leah squeezed the words out through her constricted throat. A satisfied yet cold smile faintly appeared on the Viscountess's face.
"Good. This is all to save you both, understand?"
"Yes, Aunt. Thank you."
Leah bowed her head and clasped her trembling hands together.
The fact that her mother had been a witch. The fact that she too was born with a witch's abilities. And the fact that she must hide all these truths for her entire life.
Three secrets weighed down her shoulders. Every breath felt like her chest was being torn apart. Forcibly pressing down her bursting heart, Leah turned her gaze toward her brother behind her.
No matter what happens, I'll protect you, David.
Leah knew she had no choice. She felt as if she were endlessly sinking into a swamp.
"Viscountess, guests have arrived."
A servant entered the garden cautiously. Her aunt, the Viscountess, withdrew her cold gaze from Leah and asked icily.
"Guests? Who?"
"They say they're Duke Albusque and the Marquess."
"What? The Duke and the Marquess?"
She'd heard much about the Marquess—extraordinarily handsome with considerable wealth. But his older brother, the Duke, was little known. Twins, with the older inheriting the title. Not much else was known. That such a reclusive Duke would visit was unbelievable. The Viscountess couldn't contain her excitement at this unexpected visit from such nobles.
She hastily straightened her clothes and patted her hair. There was no time to waste. She headed into the house almost at a run, urgently asking the servant about the guests' location.
Leah watched her aunt disappear hurriedly into the house with the servant. She reached out to stroke her brother's head as he played nearby.
"Leah!"
At her aunt's sudden sharp call, Leah jumped in surprise and turned around.
"Prepare to serve the guests, immediately!"
"Yes, yes!"
Leah hurried toward the kitchen. Before entering the house, she turned to look at her brother once more. With a heart as heavy as stone, Leah headed to the kitchen.
Meanwhile, the Viscount's Drawing Room
"As expected, the Viscount's household is extravagant. And they don't even have money..."
Hector surveyed the drawing room with a low sneer.
This house of Viscount Albusel was actually only the size of a villa. Yet it was filled without gap—gold-thread damask wallpaper, massive crystal chandeliers, gilt furniture. An aggregate of vanity and pretense, items bought beyond their means to show off to others while drowning in debt.
Air mixed with the smell of leather. Hector felt this excessive space revealed the Viscount couple's vulgar desires laid bare.
Meanwhile, Eugene stood alone at the long window in the corner where sunlight poured in. He gazed absently at the garden beyond the thick glass.
His dark brown hair, perfectly slicked back in pomade style, made his cool features appear even sharper. His finest frock coat, tailored to fit his tall frame of six feet three inches, further accentuated his solid build. Past his velvet vest, his straight legs stood firmly on the ground like pillars, and the aura that dominated the space through that restrained posture alone chilled the drawing room.
"I apologize for keeping you waiting, Your Grace."
With a cheerful yet slightly flushed voice, the drawing room's heavy oak door swung wide open.
The Viscountess entered first, wearing a crimson silk dress on her gaunt frame. The pearl and ruby choker at her neck only emphasized her skeletal throat. Intense rose perfume wrapped around her, instantly overwhelming the room.
"This is my daughter, Bess. Bess, hurry and greet His Grace!"
The Viscountess lightly pushed her daughter's back, unable to hide her excitement. Plump Bess looked like wrapped candy in her pink silk dress adorned with countless ribbons. Her face was thickly painted with white powder and rouge, making her look like a porcelain doll.
"Oh my, to meet someone as distinguished as Duke Albusque! It's truly an honor for our household!"
The Viscountess made exaggerated gestures, grabbing her skirt and bending her knees deeply. Beside her, Bess twisted her body and smiled cunningly at the handsome twin brothers.
"Please forgive our sudden visit, Viscountess Albusel." Hector smiled as he greeted her.
Bess looked at Hector and swayed as if about to faint, placing the back of her hand on her forehead.
The Viscountess caught her daughter while smiling. "The Marquess is always welcome, hoho."
"Thank you for saying so, Madam."
Eugene looked at Hector and hardened his brow at the commotion the women were making. The intense perfume penetrating his nostrils suffocated him with stifling discomfort. He approached the sofa without hiding his displeasure and sat down.
Seeing the Duke who didn't even glance their way and sat coldly with crossed legs, the mother and daughter laughed louder in nervousness. Eugene had already felt extreme fatigue from the moment they entered. Soon, footsteps approaching the drawing room reached his ears.
His heart already knew instinctively who it was. His gaze trembled faintly. A woman entered with a tea tray, her movements quiet and restrained.
The moment Eugene saw her, his heart began to pound wildly.
Leah Brennan.
The woman who had saved his life. She wore a simple linen dress in faded gray, in stark contrast to the Viscountess and her daughter's splendor. Though she had no ornaments or jewels, the neat, composed aura flowing from her fingertips as she held the tray seemed to instantly purify the noisy air. From her, instead of intense perfume, only a faint scent of soap could be detected.
Eugene's unpleasant feelings vanished as his gaze followed Leah's movements, watching her set down silver teacups on the low table.
Her red hair braided neatly into one plait, her slender waist that would fit in just a handful in his hands. Seeing her faded linen dress, the Viscountess's voice that Eugene had accidentally overheard in the garden came back to life in his mind. That voice—arrogant yet low, spitting out words like whispering poison.
This is all to save you both.
To save them. What had that meant? From what was she saving Leah and her brother? The Viscountess's voice had been laced with threat and control. And Leah had answered as if crumbling, in a voice hollowed by despair.
What on earth had happened? Why was the Count's legitimate daughter being treated like a housemaid while having to obey her aunt's words so submissively?
His vision was filled only with her. Her fingertips placing the teacups carefully trembled faintly. The woman who had saved his life. Just the fact that the woman who hadn't left his mind was now before his eyes sent a strange flutter through his chest. At the same time, deep curiosity about the pain she must be enduring seized him.
Sitting with crossed legs, he touched the corner of his mouth with one hand, watching her every movement. When only her neat forehead and delicate nose bridge were visible, his gaze twisted slightly with dissatisfaction.
She should at least meet his eyes once, yet she resolutely continued only with her task. He wanted to see those deep green eyes looking at him.
As soon as Leah finished setting down the teacups, she tried to quietly turn and leave with her head bowed.
What, is she really just going to leave?
Uncrossing his legs, Eugene was seized by instinctive urgency. He couldn't let her go like this.
"Wait."
Eugene's voice rang through the drawing room, low and restrained, yet cold. The Viscountess and her daughter's boisterous laughter stopped instantly.
The woman flinched, her shoulders moving as she raised her gaze. Finally meeting her clear eyes, Eugene felt every cell in his body turning toward her.
His expression remained unreadable, as if wearing a cold mask. But beneath that icy expression, Eugene felt longing. The woman who hadn't left his mind since they parted. That woman was before his eyes. Along with her sweet scent.
"Perhaps..." His tone was level and almost indifferent, as if speaking to a servant, more confirming than questioning. "Are you not the daughter of Count Brennan?"
"Pardon?"
Surprised by the man's sudden question, Leah looked at him with puzzlement. Meeting those deep blue eyes, she realized he was an extraordinarily handsome man. As she slightly flushed, a voice suddenly came to her mind.
I only wish to help you. Trust... me.
The unknown man's low, deep voice overlapped with Eugene's handsome face. At the sudden ringing headache, Leah staggered and dropped the tray.
"Ah!"
At the sight of the woman about to collapse right before his eyes, Eugene shot up and reached out. With one hand he caught her arm, with the other he embraced her slender waist.
Panicked deep green eyes met deep blue eyes. In that moment, indescribable fear covered Leah like waves. Along with terror that froze her entire body, her pupils dilated and her head felt as if it would split.
With pain as if her heart would stop, Leah soon lost focus.
The Viscountess shrieked. Bess gasped, "Oh my!"
Their sharp cries rang through the drawing room, and Eugene's eyes, holding the unconscious Leah, trembled coldly.