The Soulless Duchess

Chapter 9

Yvona was a little surprised that this man did not recognize her.

She was not formally introduced to the couples she had passed by, whereas he was an acquaintance, if not a pleasant one.

“We have met, sir.”

Even those who had seen her on several occasions weren’t able to place her. Her transformation was thorough.

“Good heavens! How could I not remember such a beautiful lady?”

Because you tend to look a little south of the face when speaking to the ladies.

Mathis continued to make his move, believing he had captured Yvona’s special interest. But he was only captivated by the sound of his own voice, not in the least interested in what she had to say.

She was starting to become irritated. Besides, she had a bigger fish to fry.

“Forgive me, but I have matters to attend to.”

“You’re not after Duke Azentine like all the other young ladies, are you?”

Most young ladies had given up when Lady Julia Keldern entered the scene, but a few of them did not give up the pursuit. Mathis must have noticed them.

“I do have something to discuss with Duke Azentine. Did you happen to see which way he went?”

“I would have said by your looks that you were discerning, but I suppose you’re no different from the rest of the vapid young ladies here. Substance makes a man, not beauty.”

You’re in real trouble if that’s true. Your substance is more offensive than your face.

What Mathis said about Claude, oddly enough, bothered Yvona more than being called vapid.

“He’s more than a handsome face, to be sure.”

“I don’t know. What else does he have? Swordsmanship? That’s because he’s the master of the Holy Sword. If I were born the master of the Holy Sword, young ladies of Parama would be throwing themselves at me, not Duke Azentine. He’s such a lucky man.”

“It isn’t pure luck. You don’t know anything about the hard work that goes into being a swordsman, sir.”

Yvona knew from spending time on the battlefield with Claude just how hard he trained. While men like Mathis behaved vulgarly toward ladies, Claude quietly kept up with his training.

Yvona and Claude ran into each other as much as they did in the past life because Claude was always looking for a quiet place to train without being disturbed.

People see the swan gliding on the lake and find it graceful, not knowing the amount of kicking that happens below the surface.

Those who thought that swordsmanship came with being the master of the Holy Sword had no idea just how hard Claude worked to be who he was.

They call him a genius born with all the luck and undermine the blood and tears that he pours into his craft.

But Yvona knew the truth. She saw it with her own eyes.

“How would you know how much he trains?”

How indeed? She couldn’t very well tell him that Claude used to train near her when she was hiding from people and when they were fighting the demon army together in her past life.

So she cited examples that were common knowledge.

“Duke Azentine took down a mid-level magical beast at the age of twelve. This was before he was recognized as the master of the Holy Sword. Doesn’t this prove that his talent preceded his fame and that it wasn’t ‘luck,’ as you say?”

“But that’s inborn talent. It’s still talent, nevertheless. No ordinary twelve-year-old child can take down a magical beast.”

“No matter how great the talent, one must nurture it in order to make full use of it. Can you say with confidence, sir, that you have trained harder than Duke Azentine has?”

“Good heavens... You must have the last word, huh? I get it. You like Claude Azentine. You don’t have to be so vehement about it,” Mathis scoffed derisively. Then he stepped up toward Yvona. “You just recently debuted in society, huh? Don’t you know who I am?”

Mathis was not a very tall man, but he was still much taller than Yvona. He cast a dark shadow over her face.

Mathis gave her a once over in the most repulsive way and said, “I am Lord Mathis Grande, son of Earl Grande. I thought you were deserving of my attention with your decent face and nice figure.”

“Ugh...”

“You may not know who I am, but you don’t want to get on the wrong side of my family. It’s not too late to play nice. I am willing to forgive everything you said before.”

Leering, Mathis reached for Yvona’s face. Just as his hand was about to touch her cheek, someone roughly yanked him back by the wrist.

“Ah! What on earth…?!”

Unlike Yvona, who had seen this coming, Mathis scowled with irritation. He tried to twist himself free and elbow his assailant.

“Mind your own business! I’m putting this girl in her place.”

But Mathis’ irritation faded instantly, and not just because his assailant was able to deftly avoid the elbow attack. Mathis turned white after seeing who it was.

“Duke... Azentine.”

Mathis could almost feel cold air descending on him. All he did was make eye contact with an icy, emotionless gaze, but it was enough to make him shake all over.

Mathis Grande, who had spent his entire life in the protection of his family, did not have what it took to withstand the murderous energy emanating from Claude Azentine, who grew up on the battlefields.

Regret washed over him. He was nothing next to Azentine. No family could measure up to the Azentines. Even the imperial family tended to tiptoe around them.

But all of that aside, Mathis could not stand up against him man-to-man. Looking into Claude’s eyes, Mathis felt the full weight of this man’s superiority. This was a primal fear, and there was something animalistic inside him telling him that he did not stand a chance against this behemoth of a man.

Mathis was a shrimp—a good family was all he had going for him. He tried to dismiss Azentine’s skills as luck and raw talent, but he knew very well that this man was a well-trained knight.

One could tell that his biceps were huge even through the layers of clothes. His thigh circumference was larger than the average lady’s waist size. The difference in size between Mathis and Claude was much too obvious.

Simply standing in front of him inspired fear in Mathis. He couldn’t imagine what might happen if they drew swords here. He had thrown the first punch, or rather elbow, even if his opponent managed to avoid it.

He tried to elbow Duke Azentine. This was more than unacceptable.

Darn it, I was only trying to flirt with that girl...!

The man who almost got elbowed by Mathis, by contrast, appeared unruffled.

Claude said in a quiet, dry tone, “I see you’ve challenged me to a duel just now. It sounds like you have doubts about my swordsmanship.”

“No, Your Grace. That’s not it at all. I was only trying to free myself...”

Mathis Grande’s improper conduct has not changed between my past life and this.

But the sight of Claude seemed to suddenly restore Mathis’ sanity.

“According to the rules of duels, are you aware that the dueling parties are not held responsible for any injury sustained during the duel?”

“My apologies. I am very sorry, but please do not challenge me to a duel. If I have caused offense, perhaps we could use words...”

“From what I saw, you were making no attempt to settle your differences with this lady through conversation. Didn’t you bring up your family and threaten her?”

Claude informed Mathis that he had no choice but to restrain him, and he pulled him aside by the arm once again. Feeling the grip tightening around his wrist, all Mathis could do was tremble silently. He couldn’t even meet his eye.

This was certainly a change from when he was speaking with Yvona earlier.

“I was not in the right mind just now w-when I was speaking with the young lady.”

Claude’s lips tugged into a smile, but his eyes remained invariably cold. “That’s what they all say. They claim that they weren’t in their right minds around ladies, but they suddenly become sane when I show up.”

Claude squeezed his hand, and Mathis’ wrist cracked. He fell to the ground clutching his arm.

“Ow!”

“I am not a firm believer in the idea that violence is the answer, but it certainly is awfully effective.”

Claude kicked him in the chest, then pressed down on Mathis’ neck with the heel of his foot. Mathis turned from white to red.

“Agh…hnng…!”

Yvona was alarmed. Mathis seemed like he was about to die, which would have been fine by her, but she had to stop Claude from becoming a murderer. This man had come to her aid, and she would not let him ruin himself.

“Please stop, Your Grace. You might really kill him.”

Claude gave Yvona a brief glance.

“He’s not going to die. I know the precise moment when my opponent breathes his last breath.”

And with that, he gave Mathis another sound kick. Because of his long legs, even that gesture looked graceful.

With the unattractive look of horror still on his face, Mathis passed out. Claude looked inexpressibly down at Mathis, then looked to Yvona.

Their eyes met. Yvona did not avoid his gaze.

I did not meet the duke at this place and time in my past life...

Much had changed in this life. Her life was no longer dictated by Gaspar, Tristan, and Colin. Standing before Claude now, it sunk in that much was different this time around indeed.

But Claude wouldn’t remember her, while Yvona could tell just by the sound of his footsteps that he was approaching. Seeing herself in Claude’s gray eyes, she was reminded of her past life.

On the battlefield, she was never able to meet his eye. She was embarrassed to be seen, a grotesque thing with a hood pulled over her bandaged head, by this incandescent man.

But she could stand proudly before him now. She was, of course, very plain compared to the most radiant flower of society, but she did not feel the need to avoid Claude’s eyes or run and hide. She no longer had to hide her disfigurement.

Yvona realized that she’d been staring at him for much too long as she appreciated the changes she’d made. She bowed.

“Thank you for your help, Your Grace.”

She could have easily summoned a magical beast of Mathis’ size and strength. She could have gotten rid of it before Claude could arrive at the scene.

But Mathis was the son of a prestigious family. Nothing good could come of her assaulting him when her own future and station was still unknown.

Claude gazed in silence at the woman standing before him.

He wondered why he had intervened. He never cared what others thought of him. Other people’s opinions of him never had any impact on him, whether it was loathing, respect, or love.

None of it meant a thing to him. No man who ever challenged him to a duel managed to stir any feeling in him. And yet he had come to Yvona’s aid and admittedly gotten a little carried away in the process.

He was not fond of social events. If he had to attend a ball, he socialized as little as possible and avoided crowds.

He knew all the secluded areas around the imperial palace where he could hide. It was no work at all for him to lose a person tailing him, but some unknown force kept him in the ballroom today.

He kept glancing over his shoulder as he tried to leave, perhaps because of the recurring dream he’d been having for weeks.

Those blue-gray eyes...

“My name is Yvona.”

The same eyes as the woman from his dreams. He could hardly remember what the dream was about when he woke up, but the one clear thing that stayed with him was the moment when the woman said her name.

She had a dark hood pulled over her head, which was bandaged all over. All he could see were the blue-gray eyes that refused to meet his. At this moment, as he locked eyes with Yvona, a small part of his curiosity felt satiated.

“You were the one who helped, my lady.”