Please be Patient, Grand Duke - Chapter 4.1

“You seem to like your brother,” said Claude.

Kieran had been perusing over hunting rifles and now straightened his back at Claude’s words. Claude Del Ihar was Duke Ihar’s son, who ruled over the north. His mother, Jasmine Pon Ihar, was the emperor’s sister. His sharp features and black hair came from the north, while his blue eyes came from the imperial family.

Kieran turned to Claude’s expressionless face. His cold eyes and condescending attitude were passed down to him by his bloodline. Other aristocrats considered the Ihar family as the noblest of the noblemen.

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t like my brother, Claude?” asked Kieran with a raised eyebrow and a smile.

Claude frowned slightly as he looked at Kieran’s mysterious smile. “He’s the evidence of deceit,” said Claude.

The answer was curt, and Kieran’s smile deepened as he stroked the pistol engraved with the eagle crest of the Ihar family. “Deceit comes with a price,” said Kieran, “My brother has already given up much for it.”

Kieran’s tone was intentionally polite, and Claude’s eyes glistened at the careful answer.

“I sometimes see you as an old man, Kieran,” said Claude with a smirk.

“Me? Old?” scoffed Kieran, “Don’t say that even as a joke.”

Claude looked at Kieran’s sculpted face. He seemed to take after his father, but his mouth was similar to the Marchioness. Kieran never revealed his innermost thoughts to him. It was all fun and games and nothing more.

However, Canillian was different. Except for his appearance, the boy did not take after Kieran at all. Canillian Vale was a fake. While he had the Marquis’s blood, he did not have that secretive streak. Claude decided to forget about Canillian Vale, he was young and of no consequence. If it hadn’t been for his appearance, he would have died in poverty somewhere. It was clear to Claude what the marchioness was working hard for. And it was a pity she did so much for a fake.

Claude approached the window that looked over the lavender gardens with a drink in his hand. Kieran’s copy was standing in front of a man, who bowed in surprise as Lian greeted him with courtesy. It was comedic. The boy’s hair covered his ears a bit, and his round green eyes glanced at the window where Claude was standing. Claude sipped his drink as he watched Lian and tasted the bittersweet herbs in his mouth.

Claude’s carriage drove away from the Marquis’s lands four days after that incident. Lia hadn’t been able to sleep properly from the day she had met Claude. Every time she closed her eyes, she heard gunshots and animal cries. According to Betty, Claude and some other noblemen had gone hunting.

She could not understand them. Why did they go out hunting in the dark? And, why hunt small helpless animals rather than large predators? They hunted only for the fun of inflicting pain, not because they hungered for the chase. 

Lia had covered the window that looked over the hunting ground with a large blanket. Betty had drawn the curtains, so the window wasn’t visible anymore, but the sounds of the hunt weren’t muffled. She could hear them outside. 

“Young master, wake up! It’s morning!”

Lia woke up blearily. It was the first time she had slept properly after Claude had gone away. She still felt tired even after the deep sleep, but she needed to get up and get dressed. The Marchioness would be there at the breakfast table. 

Lia went up to Betty who began fussing over her, washing her face in the wash basin, straightening her hair. Lia wore trousers much easily now; she had become familiar with the comfort of it. She had become accustomed to this easy life. She recalled her soot-stained face. She mustn’t forget. She needed to remember her past if she was to have any chance of ever meeting her mother again. Betty straightened Lia’s cravat and smiled approvingly.

“Let’s go eat,” chirped Betty.

“All right.”

Lia was anxious. On her first day, she couldn’t eat anything because she had no knowledge of the etiquette the nobles followed at the dining table. Lia had learned everything from using the different utensils to conversing with the nobles. She was thankful for the knowledge; she now could at least sit by the Marchioness and eat with elegance without dropping anything.

“You came,” commented the Marchioness. The Marchioness lowered the newspaper she had been reading and raised her head. Kieran, who had been sitting at a chair in a diagonal position to the Marchioness greeted her with a smile.

“Come, sit,” instructed the Marchioness, “I specifically asked for my favourite egg dish this morning. Do you like eggs?”

“Yes, of course.” Lia did not know what the dish was, but she knew what to reply.