Circumstances of a Fallen Lord - Chapter 128

Chapter 128

Carlton entered the room and set a tray on the table in front of the sofa where Luisen was sprawled. A delightful aroma filled the air. On the tray was a creamy soup, with tender chunks softened by milk. Carlton had taken care to provide something light that wouldn’t burden Luisen’s stomach.

“Looks tasty,” Luisen murmured.

Carlton smirked. Luisen’s hair was messed up from lying on the sofa. 

“Did you sleep?” Carlton began to tidy the golden strands.

The feeling of the mercenary’s large hand carefully stroking through the hair ticked the young lord’s chest. It felt like all his worries were melting away.

Carlton sat next to the young lord, “I was startled to hear that you skipped your meal.”

“I somehow forgot.”

Carlton was surprised by Luisen’s reply, “My duke, you were someone who ate a lot even after Ruger’s backstabbing betrayal… To think that you would forget to eat… Are you sick anywhere?”

“I’m sometimes like this too?” Luisen responded nonchalantly, thinking the other was joking.

However, Carlton had meant it. He placed his hand on Luisen’s forehead, “You don’t have a fever… Your complexion didn’t look so good when we met with the Eastern Great Lord as well. Should I call for a doctor?”

“No. I was just tired.”

“Is it because of the retainers?” Carlton asked cautiously.

“The retainers? Ah, that’s right. I was quite busy today.” Luisen said. If Luisen had known that Carlton still had a major misunderstanding about his childhood, the young lord might have responded more sincerely. Unfortunately, Luisen wasn’t aware of the high-level misunderstanding that existed between them.

“Tell me if someone is bothering you. Don’t endure–You have me.”

“Yeah.” Luisen’s conscience was pricked. Just a moment ago, the young lord had been thinking Carlton had a dirty, shady character for being the one-armed pilgrim…So, he felt all the more guilty.

“Even if you’re tired, please make sure to eat well,” Carlton scooped some soup with the spoon. Then, he carefully brought it to Luisen’s mouth.

“I can feed myself.”

“You said you were tired.”

Luisen wanted to protest, saying that he wasn’t too weak to hold a spoon, but Carlton seemed to be enjoying this. The young lord decided to go with the flow…plus, he felt a little apologetic.

Luisen calmly opened his mouth and accepted the soup.

The soup was warm and savory–perfect soothing the stomach. The vegetables that had been boiled for a long while gently traveled down his throat.

‘It’s delicious, but….’

The situation was as awkward as it was sweet–Luisen wasn’t in the mood to enjoy the atmosphere. 

Another old memory bubbled up once more. Luisen thought he had poor recall, but why were these old memories resurfacing so easily?

When he first met the one-armed pilgrim, Luisen was on the verge of death. Despite recovering, the young lord had to stay bedridden for a while, unable to even lift his arm. The pilgrim fed him directly since he didn’t have the strength to eat.

Although the pilgrim merely nursed the young lord, and there was nothing particularly sweet or soft about the atmosphere back then, Luisen couldn’t help but compare Carlton’s caring hand to the other’s. The mercenary’s rough hand, calloused from the difficulties of life, gripped the spoon delicately.

Carlton just reminded him of that time so much.

Dizzied, Luisen firmly shut his eyes. ‘I can’t go on like this.’

Perhaps he was just too conscious of their presences, he couldn’t think of Carlton and the one-armed pilgrim separately. Even the little gestures–nothing too particular–seemed like extraordinary clues; if he continued like this, he’d soon be convinced the two were really the same person.

“My duke? Are you okay?”

If Luisen continued, Carlton would find it strange. However, he felt a bit uncomfortable to see Carlton. “Carlton, can you go… and call the doctor for me?”

Luisen decided to avoid the situation by feigning illness.

“I’ll get them quickly. I thought it was strange when you picked at your food.” Carlton laid Luisen back on the sofa and hurried out of the room to summon the doctor.

After a while, the doctor arrived. The doctor, under Carlton’s constant pressure, examined Luisen immediately. Though Luisen’s body was healthy, the doctor didn’t suspect anything because the young lord’s appetite was famously so strong that the difference was stark. The doctor said that the young lord was tired and left some herbal medicine to help him sleep well.

Concerned, Carlton stood by Luisen the whole time, and, after the doctor left, he picked Luisen up and moved him to the bed.

‘Both my legs are fine, and I’m not a child. To carry me to the bed…’

The young lord felt embarrassed, but he laid down on the bed, feigning illness. “You should go and rest too.”

“I’d like to be by your side.”

“No.” After all, that would make feigning this illness futile. “I want to rest on my own. I’ll be fine–I’ll go to sleep after taking the medicine.”

Carlton finally agreed at that point. When he saw that Luisen had taken the medicine and laid in bed, he left the room. Just as Luisen had hoped, the two weren’t slated to encounter each other for the rest of the day.

‘Sorry, Carlton. It’ll be better tomorrow.’ Luisen closed his eyes weakly, believing that this was all because he was too startled.

He fell asleep quickly, perhaps from the medicine or mental fatigue.

***

The next afternoon, Luisen rode in a carriage with Carlton to the church. This was because Morrison had asked him to come to the church through a messenger priest in the morning. Since Luisen was under investigation for impersonating a pilgrim, no one found his outing suspicious.

The carriage ride was quiet. Luisen glanced briefly at Carlton, who sat arms crossed. Since the mercenary was guilty of trying and failing to kill the first prince, he was wearing a hood so as to hide his identity and avoid attention. Peering at the jawline peeking out from under the hood, Luisen involuntarily wondered about the pilgrim.

Luisen sighed and turned his head to the window.

‘I thought wrong.’

Yesterday, he thought about the pilgrim continuously, due to the abrupt confusion plaguing his mind. After a good night’s rest, the young lord believed that things would get better after breaking free from these lingering suspicions.

However, the suspicion that had taken root would not leave Luisen’s mind. He kept thinking of and comparing Carlton to the one-armed pilgrim whenever he saw the mercenary. His heart sank whenever he saw the similarities, and it became awkward to face Carlton.

All day long, Luisen avoided Carlton using one excuse or another. It wasn’t entirely unnatural–all things considered, he had things to discuss with those who would handle the internal affairs of the dukedom. Still, if he continued avoiding Carlton like this, he knew Carlton’s keen perception would catch on that something was amiss.

‘Ah, I wish the truth was clear.’

He felt so frustrated as he struggled with this problem with no answers. Even as they stuck close together, the young lord had no idea how to dispel this awkwardness.

Since Luisen had mentioned feeling nauseous, Carlton refrained from initiating a conversation. Luisen felt the silence was uncomfortably palpable, perhaps due to his own awareness of it.

Meanwhile, the carriage arrived at the church, which had been where Luisen was locked up the last time he was captured by the Paladins. This was the largest church in the capital and, as such, was home to several facilities alongside the capital. Naturally, the place saw much foot traffic, so there was a sizable audience when Luisen’s carriage arrived.

Carlton exited first, followed by Luisen. When Luisen emerged, people’s eyes fixated on the young lord. Luisen became flustered at the incoming gazes, and his feet stumbled. Carlton had properly held onto the young lord, so Luisen didn’t have a great fall in front of such a huge audience.

‘That was dangerous.’

If he had fallen there, his fall (due to being scared of the investigation) would have been in the newspaper.

“Careful,” Carlton whispered quietly. A priest approached while Luisen hesitated–the priest that was waiting to guide Luisen in. He ushered the two somewhere.

‘I feel so pathetic right now.’

Carlton was always taking care of Luisen, not conscious of the fact that the young lord was avoiding him. Tears came to his eyes from the shame he felt. Then, he suddenly realized the priest was guiding them to a completely new place he had never seen before. “Where are we going right now?”

“We’ve almost arrived.” The priest took Luisen and Carlton deep into the building. As they passed fewer and fewer people, they felt strangely secluded. Carlton must have also felt that as he stuck closer to the young lord.

Before long, they reached the beginning of a corridor with one door at the end of a long hallway.

“You can go that way. I was told to guide you up to here,” the priest said.

“The person who summoned me is over there?”

“Yes.”

Then, Morrison must be over there. Honestly, what’s with this burdensome vagueness when he could come to the mansion?

“I’ll take the lead,” Carlton said.

“Alright.”

It didn’t hurt to be careful.

Carlton stood in front of Luisen as they crossed the corridor. Then, as he hid the young lord’s body from view, he opened the door.

“This is…” Carlton sounded bewildered. When Luisen entered the room with the mercenary, he could see the reason why.

Beyond the door was a brightly lit greenhouse. Inside, one could see various plants, ranging from the common flowers from the South to the pointed-leaved plants typical of the North. The juxtaposition of plants accustomed to winter and those to summer created a peculiar scene.

Within, stood a man dressed in a white priest’s garb; the man had a barely twenty-year-old-looking face.

“It’s not Morrison,” Carlton put his hand on his sword, wary of the man. As someone sensitive to his surroundings, the mercenary could sense that the energy contained within was different from the outside.

“No, wait. He’s fine.” Luisen placed his hand on Carlton’s arm, dissuading the mercenary. Then, he stepped forward and stood alongside Carlton.

The face was familiar. Luisen had seen it during his coming-of-age ceremony, back when he had become an adult. If one combined the time from before regression, it had been more than a decade since Luisen last saw this man. The man had an eternally youthful appearance that was inconsistent with his deep, fiery red eyes that seemed to harbor flames.

“At last we meet, Your Holiness.”

The person waiting for Luisen was the Pope.