Chapter 07
“50 million shillings. Even from the standpoint of the imperial family’s third son, it is a very tempting and alluring amount.”
It was transparent whom he meant by the imperial family’s third son—none other than himself, Valerian.
He had said he understood, but the simmering anger in his green eyes was still evident.
‘Better to be blamed for being blinded by money outright than to be condemned for it later… I suppose.’
Of course, she had no intention of explaining herself. Even if she tried, it would not solve anything.
“I truly want to break up with Valerian, Your Highness.”
“Is that so?”
Zavier smiled faintly and sipped his tea with an elegant motion, clearly showing he did not believe her.
“So you are proposing another plan to separate from Valerian?”
“Yes.”
Ive voiced the plan she had agonized over all night.
“I will become terminally ill.”
At her words, Zavier’s gaze—previously as if challenging her to continue—flashed with bewilderment.
“Are you being serious?”
Ive took a sip of the fragrant floral tea and continued.
“Of course, I will return the gifted money as well.”
“How utterly absurd…”
He paused mid-sentence.
He had anticipated that she would not easily cut ties with Valerian.
He had seen Valerian grow up: a man outwardly kind and gentle to all, yet with an invisible wall around him.
But after meeting Ive Estella, that wall had crumbled. And sometimes, he displayed an unsettling fixation.
Whenever Zavier witnessed it, he sensed that something about the situation was going awry.
A warning had risen within him. Perhaps Valerian might not use his divine power solely for the empire’s benefit.
Having heard a prophecy twenty years ago the moment he was appointed crown prince, Zavier had judged Valerian not merely as a friend but as a successor to the throne.
‘That one matter must never come to pass.’
He had made unreasonable demands of Ive Estella, and she had accepted. Yet he had never imagined she would present such an outlandish plan.
“Do you really believe that method will work?”
Zavier was skeptical. If anything, Valerian would likely protect a terminally ill woman rather than abandon her.
“No matter how favorably the Ludwig family views me, they would not wish to see a terminally ill daughter-in-law.”
She smiled faintly as she spoke.
“And how can one marry the dead? A ghost marriage, perhaps?”
She meant becoming entirely dead—Zavier was somewhat shocked by her words.
“Are you being serious?”
“Yes. This is not something to joke about.”
She answered with a bitter smile.
If she was going to fake illness, she intended to fake death as well.
‘This is better.’
Even if it caused Valerian irreparable pain, she now wished to live.
If she became a dead person, no one in the world would search for her.
Then she could live a quiet and peaceful life—exactly what she desired.
“But one cannot turn a living person into a dead one.”
Zavier spoke firmly, unexpectedly so. Ive looked at him with a thin, bitter smile.
“Then are you telling me to marry Valerian as things are?”
“That is…”
Of course, that was impossible.
Ive considered why the crown prince was helping her.
And the reason was not difficult to deduce. He valued her background—or some other aspect that might interfere with Valerian’s affairs.
Zavier was a man who remained cold and pragmatic when matters concerned the empire.
“Thanks to this, I have a good pretext. I can frame the family’s bankruptcy as being for medical expenses.”
Zavier, witnessing her genuine desire to break up with Valerian, felt a strange curiosity.
When she had previously made such a request, he had dismissed it outright, treating it as nonsense. Now he wondered why she had changed her mind.
“Then I will also require the cooperation of the imperial physician.”
“You mean someone to certify your illness?”
“Yes, exactly.”
Ive carefully watched the crown prince’s expression. He looked displeased, yet seemed to have no alternative ideas.
“Then I shall assume Your Highness will cooperate, and take my leave.”
Ive rose from her seat.
As she walked through the imperial palace, she thought about Zavier.
While reading the original novel, Zavier—who had been a supporting male lead—had gained great popularity among readers.
Though outwardly cold, his occasional moments of kindness stirred the affections of many.
Thus, public opinion was split between the main male lead and the supporting lead.
But midway through the story, the heroine Yuri chose Valerian.
Upon learning this, Zavier stepped aside without complaint.
He believed it was morally wrong to love his friend’s beloved.
‘A very admirable friend.’
It was somewhat difficult to understand why such a man was intervening in her engagement.
But she did not ask.
Perhaps he had the same reason for not asking why she wished to break up with Valerian.
After all, knowing the reason would not change the situation.
“So now what do I say…?”
When she met Valerian, she would have to tell him she was terminally ill.
It was a problem she had thought resolved, now made more difficult.
‘I am terminally ill.’
Saying those words face to face would not be easy.
‘Maybe I should spread rumors instead?’
A rumor that Ive Estella was gravely ill and would not live long.
‘But I’ve been eating too well.’
No one would believe it. That was why she needed Zavier’s help.
Resting by the palace fountain, Ive froze when she saw someone approaching.
‘Valerian!’
Why was he here?
She hurriedly tried to hide, but realized it was pointless.
Valerian’s blue eyes had already found her.
“Valerian…”
This was bad—her plan had been disrupted.
She had intended to lose a little weight and act more convincingly ill before meeting him.
“Ive, what are you doing here?”
It was the first time she had seen him since breaking off the engagement.
Hastily thinking, Ive replied,
“I came here for something to do.”
“…Something?”
His voice sounded strangely stiff. Startled, she looked up at him.
Yet his gaze still held the same gentle concern. Ive decided she must have misheard.
Valerian bit his lip before speaking.
“Ive, I’m sorry. I should have realized your difficulties sooner and paid more attention. I was careless and made you suffer.”
“No, it’s not like that. Why are you apologizing, Valerian?”
“If anything like this happens again, you must tell me. Don’t hide it, Ive.”
“Okay…”
His eyes trembled with guilt and sorrow. His golden eyelashes quivered.
“Please… don’t say such heartbreaking things again.”
Ive remained silent. His sincerity made her chest feel as if a stone had been placed upon it.
‘Still, he didn’t realize the forged document. It wasn’t Valerian who noticed it.’
Thankfully, he seemed unaware of anything.
Valerian watched her before speaking again.
“So you’re doing fine now?”
“Yes.”
Having received 50 million shillings, it was unlikely she was not fine.
“Actually, it’s such a large amount that I haven’t even touched it. I feel very sorry.”
She subtly emphasized that she had not used a single coin—implying it could be returned immediately to the ducal family.
“Father will change his mind. For the sake of the family.”
Valerian replied with a serious expression. She swallowed her disappointment, realizing her intention had not been conveyed.
Then his next words startled her.
“So I will have the family thoroughly search for the culprit to prevent such incidents. You can rest easy, Ive.”
What?
‘If they find the culprit, they’ll discover it was me…!’
Then the breakup would occur in a different way—likely ending with her in prison.
Ive quickly recovered.
“Actually, I don’t want the family’s financial matters to become public… Valerian, can you do that?”
“Yes, of course, Ive.”
Valerian’s gaze lingered on her eyes before drifting away. It was brief, but his blue eyes carried a subtle glimmer—as if he were carefully observing her reaction.
“But why did you come here?”
His question made her forget that strange look.
She hesitated, then answered.
“There’s… something wrong with me.”
She pretended it was difficult to speak, biting her lip. Alarmed, Valerian asked,
“What is it? Tell me in detail.”
His face gradually paled. Ive, watching him, spoke slowly.
“…It’s hard for me to say it myself. It would be better if you heard it from His Highness.”
She acted as though it was too painful to say, her expression trembling.
Then, without further farewell, she turned away.
‘Please handle the rest, Your Highness!’
She had a reliable ally; she merely needed to use him.
A classic case of shifting responsibility.
She silently cheered for the crown prince and left the palace with light steps.
