Gunmage
Chapter 156: The heir and the widow

Chapter 156: Chapter 156: The heir and the widow

"Why—"

He paused, struggling to properly articulate the words, as if dragging them up from a well too deep.

"Why did they lock me up all this while?"

Jeane blinked in slight confusion, her brows knitting faintly.

"I’ve already told you. Lord Lucas was the one who ordered it, as a way of paying respect to his legal wife."

Lugh cut in sharply.

"If that’s the case, then why did the restrictions grow tighter, unbearably so, whenever he wasn’t at home? And full imprisonment... when he was confirmed dead?"

Jeane paused, seriously contemplating her next words.

One might have expected her to lose interest after the grand ball. After all, there was no longer any risk of the boy soiling her employer’s name. And perhaps she might have, if not for the inhuman ability Lugh displayed that night.

Even now, the bloodstained robes he had worn during the chaos still clung to his slight frame like dried skin.

If he bore evil intent toward the young lady, the staff would fight with everything they had.

The casualties would be horrific—and even then, they might not win.

So now, Jeane was fully aware, this wasn’t just about answering questions. It was about preventing bloodshed of an immense scale.

She spoke, carefully.

"I can’t exactly tell you why... because I’m not sure myself. What I do know is that it was all done for your sake."

Lugh blinked, momentarily thrown off.

"My sake?"

"Yes"

She replied, her expression unreadable.

"The young lady took it upon herself to protect you from the dangers of court life."

"Why the hell would she do that?"

Jeane sighed, the lines on her face deepening.

"Partially out of guilt... partially out of resentment... but mostly—"

She hesitated, seeing the impatient annoyance brewing in Lugh’s cold expression,

"—mostly because... the young lady once told me you resemble the Lucas she remembers."

Lugh froze.

Yep. It was down to this, in the end.

All that talk about protecting him was most likely an extravagant, whitewashed lie.

If that had truly been her goal, then there was no reason to estrange her daughters and the house servants from him, depriving him of even the most basic human connections for years.

That wasn’t protection.

That was obsession.

The maid didn’t seem to have noticed

He turned toward Jeane, voice low.

"Did your lady—did Isolde know my father before the marriage?"

"Yes, young master. They would often play with the other noble children."

"Were they close?"

He asked again.

"I’m not really sure"

Jeane replied, fidgeting slightly.

"But it would make sense, considering how quickly the lady accepted the marriage."

"Sure..."

Lugh mumbled to himself.

He drew in a slow breath of cold air, eyes narrowing.

"Do I resemble my late father?"

Jeane stilled, then spoke—her voice quieter, less chirpy.

"Yes. Strikingly so. It would’ve been hard to tell you apart if you were the same age. I—I mean before, of course. Not now."

The final pieces clicked into place.

Jeane must have drawn the same conclusion too, but either she was too stubborn to accept it, or she already knew.

Isolde probably hadn’t been trying to protect anyone, she was clinging to a delusion, guarding the living echo of a love long dead.

They would be wise to have a professional check up on her psyche.

Lugh exhaled, a sigh of inevitability slipping from his lips.

"Thank you for answering my questions."

"You’re very much welcome"

She said, bowing with a proper curtsy.

Now, it was time to meet with the woman behind all of this.

Isolde.

By the time Lugh arrived, the room was quiet again. The members of the Von Heim family had already left, and the lady herself sat alone, her posture rigid, her expression thunderous.

She glared at him.

"What do you want?"

She snapped, tone biting.

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he slowly pulled out a chair and sat, composed yet radiating an eerie stillness. Then he turned hollow eyes toward her.

Isolde faltered for a brief moment under that gaze.

Lugh spoke.

"Exactly how were you involved in my mother’s death?"

Her composure shattered. The hostility drained from her face like melting wax.

"W-who told you?"

She asked, voice trembling.

"That’s not important"

He said flatly.

"Jeane."

A long silence fell between them.

"There are two ways we could do this"

Lugh continued.

"You either tell me what you know, truthfully, or I extract the information from your... corpse."

There was no bravado in his voice. No hint of bluffing. He meant every word, and she could see it.

He didn’t wait for her to respond.

"Did you kill my mother?"

"..."

"..."

"No"

She finally said.

"I did not."

For the first time Lugh couldn’t tell if it was truth or lie. Not an error of the Mawglass—no, this was something deeper. Perhaps the very structure of the words, or her fractured state of mind, made it impossible to discern.

"Then explain"

He said.

"Exactly what happened."

Isolde snapped her fingers, and the shadows in the room flickered, then vanished. They were now truly alone.

"When the war broke out"

She began, her voice hollow,

"As a general in the army, Lucas’ presence was needed on the battlefield. That left only me and your mother in the estate. You had just been born."

Lugh noticed it—the flicker of bitter reminiscence on her face, quickly masked by a false composure.

"I was... upset at the time. Naturally. My husband was more enamored with a servant girl than with me.

Where I failed to produce a male heir after three trials, she succeeded on her first attempt. It could be said the heavens didn’t favor me."

Lugh remained silent, choosing not to interrupt.

"So, left alone with all the power in the house, I... I—"

"You killed her?"

He cut in, eyes narrowing.

"Or perhaps sent your shadows to do it?"

"No!"

She snapped.

"Uh—I mean, no."

Regaining her composure, she continued.

"I only tried to harass and make her life difficult. Estrange her from the already jealous staff. Isolate her."

"Like what you’ve been doing to me?"

He asked quietly.

She didn’t respond.

"So what happened?"

He pressed again.

She took a deep breath.

"My plan didn’t work. Your mother was fierce. All women from Heieg are. She wouldn’t let herself be bullied, found solace in the isolation, and even went as far as to physically beat up any maid she caught making snide remarks."

A bitter, ironic smile played at the corners of her lips.

"People began to fear her. It was infuriating, because—"

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