Chapter 120

The predators seemed to be quite impressed by his bravado to catch the blade with his bare hand. What they didn’t know was that from the start he knew it wasn’t a well-maintained sword, so he did it with the calculation that his finger wouldn’t get cut off.

As a result, Demus gained their attention, and as time went on, he gained ground within the academy. His skills that progressed rapidly also helped him in his endeavors.

He had no intention of wallowing in self-pity as he reflected on the hard time he had back then. He knew how worthless such sentiments were.

However…

“Did you win?”

By “won,” he meant exactly what he said. After all, he won the duel, which was clearly unfavorable to him. It was an objective fact.

“If so, this scar is a medal of victory.”

Demus had never called himself at that time “victorious” even once.

It was a reminder of his past, humiliating and insignificant. He had to play a trick to win, and it was far too ridiculous to be labeled a victory.

How could such an ugly sight, barely surviving with such ugly marks, be a victory? Victory should be more glorious and exalted than that.

Glancing down at the scar between his fingers, Demus let out a long breath.

“Did you win, she asked.”

It was an unexpected question.

Before he hid his scars as seamlessly as he did now, the first words people said when they saw them were usually sympathetic: “It must have hurt a lot,” or “How did you get that?” It was an attention Demus found deeply offensive.

The prying questions about his past, not to mention the sympathy for his pain, were not pleasant.

“Ha…”

He recalled Liv’s face when she smiled innocently when he said he’d won. She seemed to mean it.

Did this scar really look like evidence of victory in her eyes?

He doubted she’d say that after seeing the scars all over his body that he was covering up.

Evidence of victory? Those ugly things?

She was really something for saying that.

“Beautiful roses have thorns, but there’s always at least one person who reaches for them, willing to risk getting pricked by the thorns.”

Indeed, she was truly something. How dare she say that about him? If he had to describe their relationship, he would be the predator with the sword, and she would be the vulnerable, bare-handed prey.

After rubbing the wound with his thumb, Demus rose to his feet. He didn’t crave a cigar or a drink. Instead, he thirsted for something else. At any moment, it would be there, right in front of him, if he gave the order, but…

“The rose will also feel pain when its branch is cut.”

Somehow, he didn’t want to appease the barrenness he felt now.

So he just stood there, staring at the dark window. He couldn’t see the view outside.

He looked as if he were standing alone in the darkness. Perhaps, it was the case.

“The branches of the roses that are cut will eventually wither, my Lord.”

***

Day by day, the atmosphere in Buerno became more energetic.

With the Cardinal’s visit fast approaching, many events were organized around the city in preparation for the festivities. Naturally, with all the excitement, there was no way the class was going to run properly.

Moreover, it seemed like word had gotten out that the Marquis of Dietrion would not be accommodating the Cardinal and his pilgrims, so the Barony of Vendons had begun preparations to host them.

Baroness Vendons had expected the classes would continue despite the chaos in the mansion, but she quickly gave up when she saw how excited Millian was at the thought of meeting the pilgrims.

Eventually, the Baroness asked for Liv’s understanding. In the past, Liv would have been concerned about her living expenses, but now that she was much better off, she accepted the peculiarities of the situation.

When the class she was supposed to teach was delayed again, Liv decided to head back. She didn’t want to take too much time to deal with the hustle and bustle at the Vendons mansion

All she wanted to do was to quickly leave the mansion, but…

“Why should I go out in a carriage riding with you, Mr. Marcel?”

“Well, because Baroness Vendons prepared it personally?”

She could understand that the Vendons were busy in many ways, given the sudden notice to prepare the rooms when they previously were told not to. She could also understand, to a certain extent, that Camille would be helping out in the process. After all, Camille had an acquaintance in the pilgrimage.

At the Baroness’ request, he was given a servant and a carriage to take him out. However, his destination happened to be in Fémont Street, where Liv lived.

“Miss Rhodes, I’ve ordered a cake for you from a shop near Fémont Street. Why don’t you stop by and pick it up? Actually, I was going to deliver it this evening via an errand boy, but it’s better to eat a freshly made cake right away, no? A servant will escort you there.”