I Thought I Was the Monster Duke's Fake Tranquilizer - Chapter 15
Of course, to Lucy, it was nothing more than a scene of hair-raising terror.
‘What kind of personality stunt is he about to pull?’
She had just had a taste—a spoon-fed sample—yesterday, of the fact that beneath that pretty shell lurked a filthy personality.
Lucy swallowed hard.
“So, that is to say…”
And then, before Edward, who was openly staring at her slowly moving throat, she thrust out the paper once more.
“Having been through the temple once, I learned a thing or two. I really ought to get a contract settled.”
“…”
“This is a contract stating that I shall provide purification power, and in return, Your Grace shall protect me.”
Edward raised an eyebrow.
“Must you?”
“Yes. I must.”
“I seem to recall already telling you I would take responsibility.”
“Verbal agreements have no binding force…!”
Was it a bit much, brandishing a contract at the person who had saved her? Perhaps.
‘Whatever you do, leave it in writing and keep evidence!’
Having tasted the brutal world in both her past life and her present one, Lucy had evolved into an adult who understood the importance of a contract.
And this was something she was presenting with a certain degree of confidence.
‘In any case, he’s already decided to take me with him.’
If he hadn’t liked it, he would have flung her aside the moment she dropped onto his chest yesterday.
‘But he brought me along.’
True, they had exchanged some strange, subtle words before that…
But her instincts told her he had undoubtedly found her useful.
‘He said he’d sensed my holy power. That means he liked it, right?’
The staggering usefulness of purification.
‘Yes. He’s the one who stands to lose.’
She didn’t know the details of the rampage side effects that dragon incarnations suffered, but she decided to think of it as something like living with a chronic illness.
‘If you lived every day with chronic migraines, a herniated disc, and indigestion, and then it all vanished just by carrying around a little keychain?’
Even she would become a possessive obsessive, accommodating any condition.
She wasn’t asking for much.
‘Just spare my life.’
And on top of that, guarantee her a life comfortable enough to live in peace.
She had, in her own way, been mindful enough to present the contract only after the other escorts had gone off to fetch water and food.
Lucy chewed on her lip and studied Edward.
He was still smiling beautifully, his face unreadable.
Soon, his elegant lips slowly parted.
“I thought you were weak.”
“…”
“But it seems you’re quite cunning, too.”
It was a face that made it difficult to tell whether he was angry or taunting her.
Lucy replied, timid yet resolute.
“Of course, Your Grace did save me. I’m truly grateful. But that’s one thing, and this is another…”
“And besides, yesterday you were perfectly happy to call me ‘Master.'”
“…What does that have to do with anything?”
“Wasn’t that your way of saying you’d serve me as your master and become my slave?”
“…It was not?!”
“When you said contract, I thought you’d brought a slave contract.”
“I said it’s not!”
As shocking words poured out without end, Lucy jumped in alarm.
“This is merely an exceedingly fair and impartial contract between two parties…”
“It doesn’t seem that way.”
Edward, who had snatched the contract from her, strode up to Lucy.
Having missed her chance to flee, Lucy found herself firmly trapped in Edward’s embrace, his arm around her shoulder.
“Bringing a contract, and a fraudulent one at that.”
“Fraudulent!”
Even as she shouted, she felt a slight twinge of guilt.
‘Of course, there are a few clauses that might look a little… questionable.’
There were, indeed, clauses she had discreetly tucked in.
For example, writing that the working hours were eight hours a day, with a lunch break of not one but two hours.
Or writing that the guarantee of safety was for ten years, and then next to the “10,” drawing a tiny circle, as small as a sesame seed, so that it read “10ᵒ ” years.
‘Should I have written 10· instead of 10ᵒ ?’
She had no intention of actually staying by his side for a hundred years, but it was a clause prepared for any contingency.
‘Still, even giving a hundred steps… I didn’t ask for money.’
Though she had, in fact, quietly slipped in a clause stating that Duke Edward Le Thesseron would bear full responsibility for room and board—after all, she had to eat to live.
And beyond that, she had also arranged for special leave time for each purification session…
‘Don’t tell me he’s going to strike down all those clauses too?’
It was just as Lucy looked at Edward with anxious eyes.
Pfft.
Edward chuckled lightly and pulled Lucy snugly against him, as if throwing an arm around a friend’s shoulder.
A cool, crisp scent drew close in an instant.
“For instance, take Article 2, Clause 2.”
“Pardon? Article 2?”
It was a part she hadn’t expected him to point out.
‘Which means, the content of that clause is…’
“‘Purification shall take place once a week, by means of holding hands’?”
