Chapter 10
Roseline’s eyes widened when she spotted a familiar face—completely unexpected.
“My goodness… Edwin?”
“Roseline! Where have you been? I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
Striding toward her, Edwin spoke with irritation instead.
I never heard that Edwin would be invited as well.
Even if they didn’t explain everything to her in detail, bringing her former fiancé to a meeting meant to discuss a new engagement?
The situation made no sense. Roseline cautiously took a step back and asked,
“What are you doing here?”
“What do you mean? I came to see my fiancée.”
“That’s…”
Had the news not reached him yet?
Still confused, Roseline noticed Edwin’s hardened expression—and the leaves messily clinging to his collar. Her face stiffened.
“Don’t tell me you snuck in here without permission?”
At her question, Edwin’s face crumpled.
“What’s with you too? Is there anywhere in this country I’m not allowed to go?”
“M-My lady…”
A strong smell of alcohol wafted from Edwin as he approached with a fierce gaze.
Roseline signaled Mary—just as she had instructed beforehand—when the maid tried to intervene.
“Mary, it’s alright. Step back. I think we need some time alone to talk.”
Don’t make a scene. Quietly go and bring someone.
Understanding her mistress’s intent, Mary gave a brief nod and hurried away. As Edwin’s gaze followed her, Roseline stepped in to block his view.
“What are you trying to accomplish by acting so recklessly? Haven’t you heard the rumors about how cruel the leader of the occupying army is?”
“Hah. Sure—you’ve only heard them. I’ve seen it.”
Clear fear and disgust surfaced on Edwin’s face.
Roseline’s expression faltered as she noticed his trembling hand brushing through his hair—and the long, fresh scratch marks on the back of it.
He had a tendency toward violence when heavily intoxicated. And now, cornered as he was, there was no telling when that unstable hand might turn on her.
Careful not to provoke him, Roseline forced herself to remain calm.
“Then you should be even more careful. Why are you acting so carelessly?”
“No. That’s exactly why I’m doing this.”
As Roseline stepped back again, Edwin closed the distance and whispered,
“Let’s move up our wedding, Roseline.”
“…What?”
“Just the two of us. We can do it quietly.”
It was utter madness.
Was he suggesting they secretly patch together a broken engagement? And a royal marriage was not something that could be arranged so easily.
Edwin had always openly claimed to love Roseline, but to her, it had never seemed like more than possessiveness toward someone he had grown up with under the pretense of an arranged match.
“What are you planning?”
There was no way a man who had wasted his life in indulgence would suddenly confess sincere love.
“There’s still hope for the royal family, Roseline. If those loyal to the Grand Duke Clifford, the Duke of Devonshire, and the royal army join forces, we can drive out the occupying forces from the capital. The people will stand with us too.”
Roseline quietly studied Edwin’s gaunt face before speaking.
His hopeful vision—so naïve—was far too optimistic.
“Edwin. I understand how you feel, but you know that’s unrealistic.”
“No! There are still many who remember the Grand Duke’s achievements. And the Duke of Devonshire cares for you like his own daughter! If you become the key to uniting them—”
Edwin suddenly grabbed Roseline’s hand.
Startled, she instinctively tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip painfully and refused to let go.
No matter how she thought about it, unlike Edwin’s claims, she saw no hope.
The armed forces that survived that day scattered after Father’s death… and my uncle doesn’t cherish me—he intends to use me.
Seeing that Edwin had no intention of listening, Roseline shut her eyes tightly and carefully chose her words.
He was mad—but if treated well, he wouldn’t harm her.
At the same time, that meant if things went wrong, he could strangle her at any moment.
“Edwin, first let go of—”
That was when she felt something cold and metallic against her fingers.
Fumbling through his clothes, Edwin suddenly shoved a large diamond-studded ring into her hand.
Roseline’s eyes widened at the sight of the royal crest—something that should have been safely locked away.
“What are you doing?!”
The moment she struggled to pull her hand free—
A long, high whistle rang out—somewhere between a cheer and a jeer.
Both turned toward the sound.
There stood a man whose burning gaze clashed entirely with the lighthearted whistle.
“Who the hell are you?”
At Edwin’s shout, one of the man’s dark eyebrows arched sharply.
“Not enough? Should I clap for you too?”
Though he was smiling, there was an unmistakable edge to him.
Black hair. A military uniform of Kaldrov.
And yet, he strode through the Grand Duke of Verita’s residence as if it were his own, adorned with numerous military decorations—honors few received even once in a lifetime.
He was undoubtedly one of the high-ranking leaders of the occupying army.
So Prince Gerard and his party have already arrived.
The color drained from Roseline’s face.
“Devonshire seems sharper than I expected.”
“I told you several times—he’s a sly fox.”
Gerard shot Callahan a resentful look at his dismissive reply before turning his gaze back to admire the grandeur of the Clifford estate.
Just as Callahan had predicted, the people gathered to welcome them appeared far too well-adorned for vassals of a nation that had just lost a war.
Contrary to expectations of a somber atmosphere, the estate was lavishly decorated from the entrance through the gardens and up to the main hall. Numerous servants stood in perfect rows outside the polished entrance, waiting to receive them.
All of it—clearly meant to impress him, the leader of the Kaldrov occupying forces.
Realizing this, Gerard puffed up with pride and grinned.
“It feels like I’m the master of this house.”
“Clifford, you mean?”
“Yeah. The war hero Clifford.”
Among soldiers of Gerard’s generation, Clifford’s name carried a special weight—even across borders.
A man who rose from nothing to the rank of Grand Duke through sheer strength and strategy, leaving behind countless legendary tales that spread among soldiers like myths of fortune on the battlefield.
To see that legacy now bowing at his feet was as thrilling as the moment he first entered the conquered royal capital of Verita.
Unlike Gerard’s rising excitement, Callahan remained as cold as ever. Gerard glanced at him but soon ignored it and urged his horse forward.
Without pause, he rode straight ahead.
Between the towering columns of the grand entrance stood the Duke of Devonshire—positioned as if he were the true master of the house—and beside him, Miriam, the Duchess of Clifford, who resembled him closely.
“Hm.”
A house I thought empty… but where there’s no tiger, the fox becomes king.
Callahan’s eyes swept coldly over the Duke of Devonshire.
Then what did that make them, invading such a place?
Another fox—or perhaps wolves.
Even Gerard seemed to cool slightly at the sight, dismounting with a visibly displeased expression.
“Welcome.”
At the Duke of Devonshire’s greeting, the servants bowed in unison.
“Hm. Very well.”
Waving his hand dismissively, Gerard strode forward. Then, stepping slightly ahead—even of Miriam, the lady of the house—he addressed the Duke directly.
“Are you the master of this place?”
It was a question he already knew the answer to.
Miriam looked startled at the abrupt remark, but the Duke of Devonshire maintained his practiced smile and responded smoothly.
“I’m honored that you would see me that way. As the brother of the lady who lost her husband, and the maternal uncle of the heir, I merely do my best to serve in their stead. And…”
His voice lowered—not submissive, yet carefully respectful.
“I hope you understand that I am more than willing to do the same for Your Highness, Prince Gerard.”
Callahan suppressed a scoff as he watched from nearby.
The man was scheming to survive—but he would make sure he didn’t.
All the time and effort he had poured into reaching this point.
Compared to that, finishing his revenge would be as easy as twisting a child’s arm.
“So,” Gerard said casually, “you were going to show me the woman who will become my wife?”
“E-Excuse me?”
“That’s what I understood. Or did I misunderstand?”
No one had yet formally declared such an engagement.
Ignoring the stunned expressions of the Duke and Miriam, Gerard nudged Callahan with his elbow and winked playfully.
Surely…
He’s declaring he’ll take Roseline Clifford as his own?
At that triumphant smile, Callahan stared at Gerard with a hardened expression.
