Sea Monster Stew Chapter 47

“Why hasn’t she arrived yet? What if something happened on the way…?”

“Your Grace, please calm down. The young lady will be here shortly.”

 

A man who appeared to be the castle’s head steward tried to soothe the elderly man. 

 

Biche’s eyes widened as she saw the old man’s thin back. 

 

The old man was none other than her maternal grandfather, Duke Akstain.

 

Then, her gaze fell upon a cold-faced man leaning against the central staircase railing. 

 

He had black hair and dry, sharp eyes. It was Count Fion, her mother’s true husband.

 

Biche instinctively stiffened. 

 

The number of times she had encountered Count Fion in her life could be counted on one hand.

But she could never forget the chill he emitted, nor his crushing gaze.

 

Count Fion had already noticed Biche entering the hall. Without a word, he stared piercingly at her.

His gaze was still as cold as ice and overwhelmingly oppressive. 

 

Unable to avoid his eyes, Biche could only swallow dryly. She felt the back of her neck go cold.

 

The people lined up in the magnificent, lavish space, Count Fion watching only her from afar, and even her grandfather, pacing and muttering to himself like a madman… Everything felt as strange as a dream and, simultaneously, as (cruel) as reality.

 

“The young lady has arrived!” a knight announced loudly, but the Duke, busy pressuring the servants, didn’t hear. 

 

The knights sighed and calmly retreated to a corner of the hall. 

 

Her grandfather still didn’t seem to have noticed her. Only Count Fion was staring intently at Biche.

 

Finally, the head steward stepped in. “Your Grace, the young lady has arrived.”

 

Duke Akstain, who had been pacing the Great Hall anxiously, finally stopped. 

 

As if drawn by something, he swiftly turned and looked at Biche.

 

“Arcobicche…!”

 

The Duke hurried towards her so quickly he almost dropped his cane. 

 

Startled, Biche instinctively took a step back.

 

She had never seen her grandfather like this. 

 

The Duke Akstain she knew valued dignity and authority above all else and was never one to be swept away by his emotions.

 

But at this moment, her grandfather seemed to have cast all that aside. 

 

With trembling arms, he pulled her into a tight embrace.

 

Tears welled up in his eyes as if he had recovered something precious he’d lost. 

 

The servants, the knights, even Count Fion watched wide-eyed. 

 

Everyone seemed to have lost their words in the face of this unexpected reunion, holding their breath quietly.

 

“My dear girl…” the Duke murmured in a trembling voice, stroking Biche’s head. “Since the day you disappeared, this old man hasn’t slept peacefully once! I was tormented, unable to find you anywhere…!”

 

Biche blinked, bewildered. Since childhood, she hadn’t been close to her grandfather.

Her young life had been confined to the secluded grounds of the Count’s villa. 

 

And Duke Akstain had bestowed his own surname upon his ostracized granddaughter.

 

People whispered that this was the Duke’s arrogance, a sign that the powerful House of Akstain looked down on the House of Fion.

 

But the truth was different. It was merely a father’s way of maneuvering to protect the family’s honor and, above all, the dignity of his beloved daughter.

 

Although she had borne a monster’s child, the Duke had genuinely loved his daughter, Arwen. 

 

But he could not extend that love to Biche, the child she bore.

 

Though young, Biche had keenly felt her grandfather’s indifference and coldness towards her.

 

“My poor child… Why have you grown so thin?”

 

This Duke Akstain, who had been like that, now cast aside all formality and held his granddaughter tightly. 

 

Even his intense embrace felt unreal to Biche. 

 

So unreal that she wondered if she was dreaming with her eyes open.

 

“This old man was wrong,” Duke Akstain sobbed, holding Biche close. “I shouldn’t have left you, a child, in that villa… I should have taken you in and protected you thoroughly.”

 

At that moment, Count Fion, who had been watching from the stairs, let out a soft scoff and shook his head. 

 

Behind his cold expression flickered a long history of conflict and complex emotions.

 

“Never… I will never lose you again. It was all this old man’s fault.”

“Ah… Um…” Biche stammered.

“Where on earth have you been all this time?” Duke Akstain’s hands trembled as he gripped Biche’s shoulders firmly. 

 

He finally pulled back slightly, his tear-filled eyes meeting hers.

 

Tears streamed down his wrinkled cheeks. 

 

Seeing her grandfather’s face up close, Biche was shocked.

He had aged unrecognizably in just five years. 

 

Profound sorrow filled his eyes, making him look a full ten years older.

 

It was disconcerting. 

 

The servants and knights witnessing this scene also seemed flustered. 

 

Held by her grandfather, Biche could only roll her eyes nervously.

 

The silence and avoidance of her childhood versus this passionate reunion now. 

 

The gap was so extreme she doubted what to believe.

 

The Duke, who had been sobbing and wiping his tears, suddenly looked back at Count Fion standing on the stairs.

“Aren’t you pleased? Your missing daughter has returned safe and sound!”

 

The attention of the Duke and everyone else shifted to the Count. Count Fion gazed quietly for a long moment at Biche’s bewildered face.

 

In his icy blue eyes, Biche read a deep-seated sorrow and resignation. 

 

After staring at her face, he uttered something unexpected.

 

“…You look so much like Arwen,” he murmured bitterly, his eyes hollow as if looking through her. “When you were younger… you only had your father’s face…”

 

“Th-that’s right. Our granddaughter did resemble you quite a bit in her youth,” the Duke interjected hastily, looking flustered. 

 

The Count nodded briefly, turned silently, and, gripping the railing, stumbled unsteadily up the stairs.

 

“Count Fion!” the Duke called out urgently, but the Count shook his head firmly without looking back.

“The long journey has tired me… I shall retire first.”

 

The Duke glared at the Count with displeasure, then ordered the steward, “Steward, escort the Count to a guest room.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” The steward bowed respectfully. 

 

Soon, servants quietly moved to follow the Count. 

 

A heavy silence fell upon the Great Hall, now suddenly emptied of people.

 

“You must be exhausted from your travels. First, wash up and get some proper rest,” Duke Akstain said kindly, patting Biche’s shoulder and lowering his voice. 

 

“Then, let us dine together and talk. Where you’ve been all this time… We have a mountain of things to discuss.”

 

The Duke’s fingers brushed softly over Biche’s shoulder. She cautiously studied her grandfather’s expression. 

 

The tears had dried, and she could no longer read any emotion in his eyes. It made her uneasy.

 

“Um…” Biche began haltingly, unable to voice her full thoughts. “Where is my mother?”

 

At the mention of his daughter’s name, the Duke’s expression stiffened strangely. 

 

The steward and other servants flinched and glanced warily at the Duke.

 

For a moment, he stared intently at Biche with darkened eyes. Then, brushing off her shoulder, he offered a bitter smile.

“Talking about Arwen… is best done when we are alone.”

 

Biche, unable to hide her confusion, looked around the castle. 

 

Could it be… that her parents weren’t here at the Ducal estate?

 

“And, um, the knights took my friends, the ones who brought me home, away somewhere.”

“My goodness, it seems there has been some misunderstanding.”

“I want to see my friends. Please, I earnestly request it.”

 

The Duke looked momentarily puzzled. “…Friends?” he murmured in a barely audible voice, then glanced toward the knights standing by the entrance.

“Bring my granddaughter’s friends here at once, and treat them with respect. They are the benefactors who guided her home. Know that you will be held responsible if they bear even the slightest injury.”

 

The knights’ faces turned pale instantly. 

 

They bowed deeply and apologized to Biche. “Our apologies. We will bring them immediately.”

 

They scrambled over each other as they hurried out of the castle. 

 

Biche suddenly felt as if the world around her had shifted direction in an instant.

 

The world that had been filled with contempt and indifference just moments ago had completely changed its atmosphere with her grandfather’s warm welcome. 

 

But the unease in her heart wouldn’t dissipate so easily.