Chapter 26
“You’re the only one who values me this highly, Uncle. I will make sure to live up to your expectations.”
After returning to Central for the first time in ten years, Marriott wore a silly grin like someone who was a bit lacking.
He had such an innocent face that even Rondo occasionally let his guard down.
But the smile Marriott wore now made cold sweat trickle down Rondo’s back.
It was hard to believe such contrasting expressions could come from the same face.
This was the exact same Marriott Arista who had once been the crown prince—cold and overbearing, a perfect reflection of his grandmother, Empress Diane.
Not a shred of that had changed.
Realizing that Marriott hadn’t changed even by the weight of a feather over the years, Rondo’s neck muscles stiffened.
He had truly returned for revenge.
It was a realization that struck with absolute clarity.
“Oh, if you’re planning to marry in secret, how about me officiating the vows? It’s a common game in brothels. I can imitate it quite well.”
Now showing his true colors, Marriott deliberately grated on Rondo’s nerves.
Rondo no longer wanted to look at Marriott’s face.
Looking at him now brought back memories from ten years ago—blood, the feel of flesh meeting steel, the screams of familiar voices.
“Get out. Now.”
Rondo finally gave the order, his voice low with restrained fury.
It was exactly what Marriott wanted to hear. Without another word, he turned to Veronica and gave her a brief farewell, then strolled out with ease.
The relaxed smile he wore outside instantly vanished when he saw Hera waiting.
Looking at her frightened face, Marriott gave a small nod.
It was a signal to follow.
*
Marriott’s carriage was parked quite far away.
He led Hera there, helped her in first, then followed and slammed the door shut behind him.
Before she could even adjust her skirts, he demanded sharply,
“What do you think you’re doing?”
His eyes were filled with displeasure.
He spat out his irritation and rising annoyance, like an itch he couldn’t scratch.
“Veronica Azel is the Crown Prince’s reverse scale. If you’d been caught back there, even as Tolinga’s daughter, you might not have survived.
You’ve lived in Central your whole life, and your family serves the Crown Prince. How could you make such a foolish move?”
Hera couldn’t tell whether he was scolding her or worried about her.
But she had been searching for a chance to thank him, so when Marriott paused, she spoke carefully.
“Thank you… for helping me….”
Though she owed him thanks, her voice gradually diminished under his sharp gaze.
Marriott looked at her with a short, incredulous laugh.
I helped her too, back then…
His hand clenched on his thigh.
A slight sense of injustice pricked at him.
Somehow, anything involving Marriott Laurent stirred her emotions too easily.
Wrongdoing should be apologized for, gratitude should be expressed, and when someone was angry, she should either apologize or ignore it if it wasn’t her fault.
That was the grace expected of a proper lady, and Hera had been taught so.
But things never went as they should with Marriott.
She felt wronged, hurt, and even oddly sulky.
It was strange.
“What’s with that face?”
“…!”
Hera’s head snapped upward as Marriott lifted her chin.
In the cramped carriage, it was easy to read each other’s emotions.
Her awkward timing of saying thank you, only to look away as if to cancel it, irked Marriott.
He knew exactly what she was thinking.
The eldest daughter of Toling must be recalling how she once helped him at the Wintertail estate,
and assuming that made them even now.
To think Marriott Laurent’s help was equal to Emilia Toling’s… how arrogant.
“I think I’ve repaid your favor at Wintertail estate quite generously already. Are you planning to get even more out of me?”
Thinking she must have gotten the message, Marriott let go of her chin.
Up close, the Toling daughter had large, bright blue eyes, sparkling like gems—somewhat, no, quite striking.
Whoever said Emilia Toling was gloomy and ugly must not have looked properly. If you’re going to gossip, at least do it right.
When he first saw her at Wintertail, he hadn’t been interested.
Later, when he accused her of lying, he’d been too drunk to remember her face.
While gathering information in Mojeni, he often heard gossip about the Toling siblings—
Julian, who led the city guard, Cecilia, the socialite, and useless Emilia, the outcast.
Marriott had probably believed those rumors blindly.
This was what happened when you trusted hearsay without checking facts.
Once you discovered the truth, it was always embarrassing—
so much so that you couldn’t bear it.
Damn it. Why did I bring her into this cramped carriage?
He forgot he had been angry just a moment ago. A deep frown creased his brows.
He had only met Emilia Toling twice, and both times he’d lost his composure.
It felt like some kind of curse.
Maybe a divine warning not to get involved with her again.
“…Can I be greedy?”
Hera took his earlier words at face value, unaware of his thoughts.
All the intimidation he’d built up was crumbling.
“…Ha.”
Marriott narrowed his eyes, face twisted in disbelief.
“Go ahead. Try.”
It was clearly sarcasm.
And he didn’t expect her to miss the tone.
Go ahead, try.
In other words, don’t even think about it.
Then he turned his gaze out the window.
It was his body language telling her: Don’t talk to me until the carriage stops.
“Why did Your Highness visit Miss Veronica?”
Unfortunately, reading between the lines was not Hera’s strong suit.
She still had trouble discerning hidden meanings or emotions.
So she asked without hesitation, taking his words literally.
Marriott stared at her in disbelief.
At first he thought she was doing it on purpose, but her face was so guileless he couldn’t even get angry.
“…Does Emilia Toling not understand sarcasm or irony?”
Only then did Hera let out a short embarrassed sound.
“Ah….”
After that, the two sat in silence, gazing out their respective windows.
The carriage had left the Ayton district and entered the outskirts of the new city—
a sparsely inhabited area with small hills and occasional hunting parties.
Gazing at the tree-covered landscape, Marriott finally spoke.
He couldn’t tell her why he’d gone to Veronica’s, but he was curious about Hera’s reason.
“What was your business there?”
Picking up a conversation long since dropped was awkward enough,
but the question itself was hard for Hera to answer.
“…The weather is lovely today.”
“At least you’re good at changing the subject.”
Her blatant deflection made Marriott chuckle.
She was just as secretive, yet trying to pry into his business—so shameless.
Still, her stiff and awkward tone made him smirk.
His smiling face reflected in the glass.
“…I’m going crazy.”
He quickly wiped the grin from his face, muttering to himself.
Just before the carriage fully entered the new city, it jolted violently.
“What the—?”
It wasn’t the kind of bump caused by a stray rock.
Marriott stood quickly, placing his hand beside Hera to steady her.
“Shane! What’s going on out there?”
He called to his aide, who was driving the carriage, but got no reply—
Then came another massive jolt.
Marriott’s body swayed violently.
His hand pressed even harder to keep Hera from falling.
“Your Highness! Look out!”
It wasn’t Shane, but a strange male voice from outside.
A massive boulder crashed through the carriage roof.
The horses screamed—clearly hit—and began to thrash wildly.
The carriage tilted, ready to overturn.
No matter what they did, it couldn’t be stopped.
Marriott urgently pulled Hera tightly into his arms.
“Emilia Toling!”
The carriage flipped entirely onto its left side. Hera, overwhelmed by the chaos, lost consciousness.
Even though she’d been called by the wrong name,
the desperate voice and firm embrace comforted her.
So much that a smile formed on her lips even as she fainted.
