I Became The Wife Of The Cursed Grand Duke Chapter 77

“It’s simple: to make the magic in my body run more smoothly.”

 

“You need to be physically strong to use magic? Most wizards I know consider breathing to be an exercise.”

 

Evelyn chuckled in agreement with Mrs. Rictor.

 

She hadn’t paid much attention to her physical fitness in the past.

 

But now she was so worried about her addicted body that she couldn’t sit still for long, so what started out as a walk became a daily routine.

 

As they walked along, chatting about this and that, they came to the outbuilding.

 

Inside, Evelyn saw a reverent prayer room and the entrance to the catacombs, where the godmother visited whenever she needed to clear her head.

 

Evelyn walked toward the prayer hall first. It was larger than she expected, with long chairs lining both sides of the room.

 

“Wow, this is a lot bigger than I thought it would be. Do they still hold mass here?”

 

“In the past, yes, but it’s closed now.”

 

“Closed? Doesn’t that mean we can’t come in?”

 

“Except for His Highness, the grand duke, myself, and the butler.”

 

For a closed place, it’s remarkably clean. Evelyn looked around at the dust-free interior.

 

“My godmother must have loved His Highness very much.”

 

Mrs. Riktor, her guard down, smiled.

 

“Yes. The great lady is a kind and gentle woman by nature. But apart from that, I am very curious to know why you thought so.”

 

It was then.

 

“I don’t know why you would think that. You noticed the godmother’s care in keeping the place clean and off-limits to the hired help.”

 

Evelyn and Mrs. Riktor’s eyes were drawn to the entrance to the prayer room at the sudden interruption.

 

There stood Benedict, the butler.

 

“A little late, but good morning. My lady.”

 

“Good morning, butler.”

 

Evelyn smiled brightly and greeted the butler.

 

His features were good, his voice clear. Like Mrs. Riktor, he had a gunslinging stare.

 

“Yes?”

 

But something was off.

 

She hadn’t noticed when she came to greet her that first day, she was too busy to notice, but now she noticed she was using a black cane.

 

‘He didn’t use a cane before’

 

Her gaze darted downward. She could see the left knee of his pants, which he wore neatly despite the cold weather, was grotesquely twisted.

 

She frowned involuntarily. Benedict followed Evelyn’s gaze, lowered his head, and shrugged.

 

“It’s a medal of honor. I’m used to it after all these years, so don’t let it bother you.”

 

A medal.

 

The loyalty in the word alone was clear, and Evelyn snapped back.

 

“Does that mean you don’t want to be healed?”

 

Since coming to the North, Kalian’s attitude of avoiding healing had become a bit toxic.

 

Her insistence that he needed to keep the energy within him circulating, just as a sword rusts if it is not used, had convinced him.

 

Especially now that Kalian was away from the castle.

 

With a little more freedom, Evelyn would heal simple wounds for the Templars as a test of her abilities.

 

And as she healed their wounds, she gave them a warning.

 

“If you have a scar you do not wish to have removed, be sure to let me know in advance.”

 

She takes this seriously because she knows that some scars are precious memories that they don’t want to forget.

 

Like the scar over Benjamin’s eye, or the scar that runs diagonally across Dwayne’s face.

 

They told me that the scars on their body were like medals of honor, proving their loyalty to their master. They said they would never be erased.

 

She should have known better.

 

If she blindly radiates healing power, most of the scars on their body will disappear.

 

Evelyn was a healer, and while she might not be able to touch their insides, she didn’t want to erase their memories.

 

Benedict’s next answer was surprising in that sense.

 

“Who wouldn’t want to cure an uncomfortable body,” he said, “but I fear that I may be harming Your Highness’s mind and body.”

 

It must have been hard for him.

 

At his age, and as a butler in charge of the Grand Duchy’s affairs, he must have been on the road a lot.

 

Evelyn smirked, liking the honesty of his answer.

 

“I wouldn’t be standing here if it were that harmful.”

 

Of course, healing old injuries takes a lot of magic, but Evelyn thought it was for the best.

 

The butler’s recovery would eventually benefit Kalian.

 

Moreover, having the butler in charge of the hired help on her side would help her in many ways.

 

“It would be better if we did it here, so we don’t have to move, and you can sit here in comfort. Ah, and if I faint, can you carry me to the main house?”

 

Evelyn patted the corner of the prayer chair, thinking it was a godsend, and Benedict hesitated, but inclined his head.

 

“To be or not to be.”

 

Then he shrugged his shoulders smugly and made himself comfortable.

 

‘What was he going to do if I didn’t offer to heal him?’

 

She smirked and pulled up her uncomfortable cuffs, then asked curiously.

 

“By the way, why did the butler come to see me? I don’t think he came to get his leg healed.”

 

Benedict stretched out his legs in the prayer chair and handed her the papers in his arms.

 

“Actually, I came to deliver this to you. It’s the status of mine holdings, and it’s something my lady needs to see.”

 

Evelyn’s eyes widened at his words and she flipped through the papers.

 

“Mine holdings? Is this one of the duchess’s duties?”

 

“No. The mines recorded here do not belong to the family, they are the private property of His Highness the grand duke.”

 

Apparently her husband-to-be wasn’t a moderately wealthy man.

 

“Oh.”

 

Evelyn flipped through the papers and had to frown again, both inwardly impressed and curious as to his intentions in bringing them to her.

 

“But why do I need to check on the grand duke’s private property?”

 

“Because His Highness wishes to present the mine to you.”

 

‘Now that you know his intentions, you must be pleased!’

 

Benedict looked at her with great pride.

 

But Evelyn could only stare at him as if to ask what the hell he was talking about.

 

Benedict’s eyes narrowed as he watched her eyes widen in wonder.

 

“Well, since you say it’s whatever you want, I’ve been checking out… as a place that’s rich in resources and could be worth a fortune.”

 

“I thought I asked for a manor?”

 

He was taken aback by the unexpected response, but Evelyn was equally taken aback.

 

“I wanted a very simple estate where I could do a little farming, raise chickens, etc. Why did it suddenly turn into a mine?”

 

It’s a breach of contract.

 

But Benedict, unaware of the implications, merely grunted as he pulled his wide-brimmed butler’s robe up to his knees.

 

“Hmm, my lady. You are more naive than I thought. In the Empire, perhaps, but in the North, mines and estates are not at all comparable.”

 

“Why is that?”

 

“Because to have an estate in the North, you must have a great deal of force. You can only be a true lord if you can protect your people from the demons. Besides, there’s a huge amount of…”

 

“So, does that mean that if I become a Demon Hunter, I can be given a lordship?”

 

There was a moment of reverent silence in the prayer room, the noon sunlight streaming in through the stained glass.

 

“That’s… I didn’t want money that could be of immediate use.”

 

A heavy stone settled beneath her hesitant face. Her chest tightened.

 

Besides, there was plenty of money to go around. She can use her healing powers to pose as a councilor, and the gems she’s been given are worth a lot.

 

However, where would she stay if she were to be thrown out of the Grand Duchy any time soon?

 

Sure, she could get a decent place in the Empire if she sold the mines and the duke’s payment, but she didn’t want to leave the North.

 

If she left the veil, disqualified as a companion, she would never cross it again.

 

And she would never see him.

 

‘I guess it’s not mine after all.’, Evelyn thought to herself again, and glanced up.

 

“…….”

 

But there’s no use in pleading with them, who stare at her as if they can’t understand her at all.

 

‘I’ll ask Kalian to reconsider when he gets here.’

 

Evelyn’s lips, which had been pouting in thought, lifted into a smooth line. She flicked it down, oblivious to the boulder crushed against her chest.

 

“Now, if you’re ready, let’s get started.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Meanwhile, Mrs. Riktor was still a bit stunned by the events unfolding before her.

 

“Mines are the best, after all! I need an estate!” None of this rhetoric attracted her attention.

 

‘My God, how did this happen…’

 

Only one thing caught Mrs. Riktor’s eye.

 

It was the pure white glow from the tiny, bony fingertips of the grand duchess.

 

The knights had told her that she possessed great healing powers.

 

But it was such unconditional praise that she couldn’t tell what was true and what was not.

 

Even when she pressed them for more details, they remained tight-lipped about what had happened in Parminion, as if there were some unspoken secret.

 

Even Dwayne, who normally would have spilled his guts, remained tight-lipped.

 

So she had no way of knowing what had happened, or what the grand duchess was capable of, or the details.

 

So Mrs. Riktor had a vague idea.

 

The grand duke, who had been in excruciating pain at the mere touch of a healer, must have found a match.

 

Since the grand duke is more often addicted to alcohol than to physical wounds, she wondered if her healing powers might specialize in that.

 

But it was unlike the aura of any healer or priest she’d ever seen before.