The Elven Duke Reluctantly Marries The Cursed Lady - Chapter 12
Hydrangea directly returned to his private chambers in the Laudense Ducal estate by Transfer Magic as soon as the doors to the entrance of Count Northpole’s house were closed.
After confirming that there was no human presence around him, Hydrangea dropped to his knees.
—What, what the heck was that!?
Violette, who was in her cat form, placed her forelegs against Hydrangea’s arm and kissed his cheek.
Cunning. It was a cunning move, but he didn’t hate it
Of course, if Violette had done the same thing in her human form, then he would have run away as quickly as possible.
But this time, she was in her cat form.
Hydrangea believed that there is no fault if a cat does it.
He recalled the wonderfully soft and fluffy sensation of her fur.
Cats are definitely the best. They’re like angels who have come down to earth.
While thinking of this, he rang the magic bell and called the butler over.
“May I help you, My Lord?”
A high-strung, middle-aged man with neatly coiffed brown hair arrived. He pushed up his glasses with his fingertips as he straightened his back at the same time.
“I would like you to deliver a month’s supply of firewood to Count Northpole’s estate.”
“Firewood?”
“Yes, firewood.”
Although it was a strange request, Heliotrope did not pursue the matter further and brought the pen to his notebook.
“Also, I will be married to Lady Violette of the Count Northpole family soon.”
“By marriage, you mean that marriage?”
“What else is there? Isn’t it just a normal union through marriage?”
I’m still conflicted whether I should tell him about the curse or not. However, it would be bad if word got out that Violette turns into a cat.
It would be fine if I just tell the female servants attending her and order that no male servant should come close to her instead.
But what if something happens? Just in case, I’ll just tell them in a roundabout way that she has special circumstances.
“She is quite a strange girl. Do not be surprised if something happens.”
“Certainly, My Lord.”
First, he ordered Violette’s room to be prepared and fitted with furniture, clothes, jewelry, and daily necessities.
“Furnish her room with the finest goods that are befitting a bride of the Laudense Ducal House.”
“As you wish.”
Normally, such items would be prepared by the bride’s family, but judging from the condition of their house, it would be difficult for them to do so. After all, they did not even have the money to buy firewood or a new dress.
Heliotrope’s expression did not change, maybe because he heard the order to buy and deliver firewood first.
He was a very outstanding butler.
“Also, I want you to investigate something.”
It was about the assets of Count Northpole. 10 years ago, their financial situation was not that dire when he looked into it.
10 years ago, Hydrangea had done some research about Syran von Northpole to find out what kind of person he was and what kind of family he belonged to. At that time, he seemed to be an ordinary noble in terms of assets.
However, he had heard stories of their financial decline after the family head was replaced.
So he ordered him to find out why.
“I’m counting on you.”
“Certainly.”
Hydrangea let out a deep sigh after Heliotrope left.
The next day, a letter arrived from Violette. She thanked him for the firewood and it was written in a neat script. It seems the letter was written by the butler on her behalf, as she could not hold the pen while in her cat form.
Lastly, instead of a signature, the letter was stamped with Violette’s paw.
When he saw it, he almost fainted in agony because of its cuteness.
Being a huge cat lover, Hydrangea stared at the paw print for a while and was soothed.
◇◇◇
A week later, the investigation results regarding the House of Count Northpole arrived. What was written there was very surprising.
It seems that 10 years ago, a huge incident occurred a month before Hydrangea met Syran von Northpole.
Syran, who seemed so gentle and good natured, had apparently caused an incident in which he hit a merchant whom he personally knew, on the head using a glass ashtray.
Fortunately, Syran seemed to have healed the injury with Recovery Magic. But even though the scars were gone, the resentment remained.
Afterwards, it seemed that Syran had given the merchant a large sum of money to keep quiet.
But why had he chosen to hide the crime instead of atone for it? I don’t understand.
Is it because if his disgrace spread, it would stain the reputation of the family?
But that was not the only surprising thing.
Syran had been ill for the past five years. Back then, he had retired from the Magic Division to recuperate, but the treatment had been ineffective and he passed away not long after. His son, the current Count Northpole, claimed that he had been cursed to death, but there was no evidence pointing to that.
Their assets were used to pay for their father’s treatment and the merchant’s hush money.
It seemed the hush money had been continuously paid even after the family head had been replaced.
The merchant’s name was Tritoma Celsia. He was an unscrupulous merchant who had a bad reputation.
The investigation did not reveal what had happened between the two, as the only ones who knew about it were the late Syran and Tritoma Celsia.
It was also possible that the current Count Northpole was also aware of it.
That household… has a shady past after all. Hydrangea felt bitter about his own intuition.
It would’ve been better if I hadn’t known.
Violette probably doesn’t know about it. She was the only one with beautiful, hopeful eyes.
They were not shadowed over like Syran or Count Northpole’s.
“…S**t.”
He couldn’t help but curse.
I chose to get married to make it easier for me, but instead, it seems I’ve attracted problems.
Unable to look it over, Hydrangea decided that he had to carry out an investigation on his own.
First, I have to find out which forbidden books Syran read.
There’s bound to be some mana residue left on the books. I still remember what color his mana was. It was a gentle green, like a deep forest. He was a mage who specialized in Recovery Magic.
I must head to the forbidden archive tomorrow after work.
