No, It was My Fault for Loving You

Chapter 42 : For Whatever Reason.

“…okay, you’re not hiding anything. You can come through.”

After completing his assigned work, Leopoldo, aka Leon the slave, underwent a body check before leaving the room, and slowly exited the room, limping.

It is a rule here that before returning to your own room, you must undergo a physical examination.

“…”

Only a snuffed breath was expelled from his throat, where the medication had rendered his voice ineffective.

Dxmn… I have scars all over my body.

The daily harassment of the slaves by the servants, which was akin to passing the time, continued, and Leopoldo was also a target.

When things get too bad, the shadow guards of the Reinalpha family, who infiltrated with them, help out, but it happens too often and it would be too suspicious for them.

Leopold also prepared himself to go undercover. Therefore, he ordered them not to interfere unless his life was in danger or the infiltration itself would be in danger.

Above all, these shadow guards, like himself, are infiltrating the site as slaves. There is no doubt that they are in a similar situation.

But… Leopold muttered in his heart.

Still, it was worth persevering.

Everyday, the evidence documents were brought out little by little as he passed through the rigorous body checks.

They were wrapped in bed sheets and placed in a laundry basket, which was then carried out by the cleaning staff.

Of course, that cleaning staff is also from their side.

In this way, the evidence is passed on to the head of the Reinalpha family by the infiltrators.

The evidence that they have been steadily securing little by little for more than two months should soon be enough.

Thomas, the head of the Reinalpha family, is also doing a lot of work outside based on information obtained here.

Now that he was aware of his enemy and knew exactly where he was and what he was doing, the situation was changing.

The people involved in embezzlement and theft are being kept in the dark for now, but he heard that Thomas has already solidified the evidence that they are all connected to Alejandro.

Once he has safely handed over this document that he now has hidden away, he will be busy gathering a few more pieces of evidence, and then it would just be a matter of finding the right time.

So ends this short but long undercover life.

He was fully wounded, but there was much to be gained.

Above all, he realized how immature he was.

He also realized how much he had been blessed and protected.

That people have a dark side, that not every word uttered is as it seems, and that some people can bring others down with a smile.

He was ashamed to say that he had never noticed such a thing before.

He confesses his feelings to the young lady he fell in love with at first sight, never dreaming that it would lead to a situation that would tilt the Marquise family.

Without Rembrandt’s advice, he probably would not have realized it even now. Perhaps he would have fallen. Rembrandt, for some reason, received advice from Beatrice.

Beatrice.

A childhood friend who was told that she would not live long into adulthood due to an incurable disease.

She is calm and peaceful, always laughing quietly.

It was only recently that I wondered how she, who was cherished and loved by her childhood friend Edgar as well as her brother Rembrandt, became aware of such a secret plot.

In hindsight, I wonder why I did not question this when Rembrandt told me about it.

Leopoldo’s thoughts wandered as he walked slowly to protect his right knee, which was heavily weighed down. But he still doesn’t know.

Oh well. When this undercover life is over, let’s talk to Rembrandt and the others again.

Let’s express a lot of gratitude and think about what I can do to return the favor in my own way.

And Natalia.

Leopold’s lover whom he promised to protect like the princess in the story.

I have not been able to do anything for her since I sent her a letter once.

Thinking of her face made Leopold feel some anxiety and a sense of elation that was not appropriate for the occasion.

It has already been more than two months since he has not seen her.

I wonder how she is doing.

That weak, fragile, vulnerable person.

I wonder if she is still waiting for me. I left her alone for more than two months, despite my bold words that I would protect her with my own hands.

I am aware that I have grown up a little, yes, just a little, but I am sure of it. I wonder if she will be pleased or surprised to see me like this.

Or will she cry that she couldn’t wait?

I wonder what you would look like, Natalia, if I told you that I would no longer talk about things I can’t do, or make promises I can’t keep.

You, a vulnerable person with no way to protect yourself, probably deserves a man who is much smarter than I am, like Rembrandt.

Even if I could stand on my own two feet, I could never be like him. I still think that wielding a sword is more suited to me than using my head.

Still. If…

If I whisper my love to you one more time, will you nod your head?

“…”

The good thing about this man, Leopold, is that he is honest and open.

Although he had learned that human beings have genuine thoughts, and also many pretenses, his innate straightforwardness and simplicity remain the same.

But these virtues can also be his weakness at the same time.

There was probably some relief when the job was done and he was out of body checks. Perhaps it was the prospect of almost ending his life as a slave that made him relaxed. Or perhaps it was a sense of accomplishment, or perhaps his carelessness.

Whatever the reason, he smiled a somehow hopeful and exuberant smile, which is disproportionate for a slave after a full day’s work in a state of on which his body was full of wounds.

It was just a minor difference.

But it was a little unnatural.

Under normal circumstances, it would have been easily overlooked, but someone had spotted it.

Alejandro’s confidant, Zacharias.

“What are you so happy about, did you steal money from the safe?”

He shook his shoulders jerkily.

He hurriedly tried to fix his face, but there was no way he could make it in time.

He noticed that Zacharias was now standing in front of him.

Even if he asked Leon something, he would not get an answer from this mute slave.

The fact that he was mute had been persistently tested over and over again. There was supposed to be no more doubt there.

And yet, Zacharias, who should know better, dared to ask Leon.

With a brutal light in his eyes.