Chapter 48
First Quarrel (2)
“There is something I wish to ask you, Marquis.”
Johannes stopped in his tracks.
“Lady Ria—no, the Marchioness—told me that she has never once received a letter from me, nor did she know I had ever visited the Marquisate.”
“Is that so?”
“And yet, I left because I was told she did not wish to see me. I even received a letter from her in return.”
“…”
“Forgive me if I speak out of turn, but… could it be that the maids of the household are disregarding her?”
Before Raul could finish, Johannes burst out laughing.
“Ah, pardon me. It’s just such an absurd suggestion. Indeed, it’s an excessive question. It’s not your place to worry over, and it sounds as if you’re questioning my competence. Do I truly look to you like a man who cannot even keep a few servants in line?”
“That was not my intention. If it came across that way, I apologize.”
“I understand. Since it came from a dear friend, you couldn’t simply ignore it.”
Johannes’s expression darkened.
“I would rather not say this, but…” He sighed. “Since the sudden loss of her father, Count Dyke, Ria has grown very frail.”
“Frail?”
“Yes.”
Johannes pulled Riena closer to his side. Then, with sharpened fingertips, he dug his nails hard into her thigh.
The sharp sting was far too much for a simple press of the nails. Riena let out a faint groan, but Johannes’s voice quickly drowned hers out.
“I hesitate to say this, but she sometimes falls into fits of hysteria. At times, she even collapses, and when she wakes, she remembers nothing of what she has done.”
“I’ve never—hkk!”
Johannes’s nails dug in again, silencing her words.
“Most likely, when you came by, Riena was unwell. The butler must have made the decision on his own to turn you away.”
“…Is that so?”
“Yes. Still, I will check again myself when I return, just to be sure. May I take my leave now?”
“Forgive me for keeping you so long. Safe travels, Marquis.”
Johannes tugged Riena along as they walked away. When Raul was finally out of sight, he shoved her against a wall, bracing one hand beside her head as he loomed over her.
A menacing shadow fell across her. Johannes was still smiling. Riena trembled as she looked up at him.
“My lady.”
“…”
“Or should I say… Ria?”
“Th-that…”
“It does not please me to hear a nickname I didn’t even know about roll so casually off another man’s tongue.”
His lips twisted into a mocking smile.
“No, it infuriates me.”
“It’s nothing significant. The name means nothing.”
“Really?”
Riena quickly nodded. Seemingly satisfied, Johannes magnanimously shifted the subject.
“In any case, you promised you wouldn’t do anything foolish if you accompanied me today, did you not?”
“…I did.”
“Then why did you meet Lord Verna?”
“It’s just… he’s a childhood friend. It had been so long, I was glad to see him again. We hadn’t spoken in years.”
Her voice trailed off as she glanced toward where Raul had been standing.
He had always been on her side. She had always believed Raul would protect her, no matter what.
That was why, when the Countess of Dyke had tried to force her into marriage with Baron Rotman, the very first person she had written to was Raul.
Even now, she clung to the hope that Raul would come. He knew her better than anyone. Surely he must have noticed how strange her behavior was when she was with Johannes.
Surely…
“What are you looking at so intently, my lady?”
Johannes seized her chin, forcing her to face him.
“Your husband is standing right here, and yet you dare to think of another man so openly? Where did you learn such vile habits?”
Riena bit her lip to stifle a sound.
“Not even an apology? My lady has quite the stubborn streak.”
He yanked her head back harshly.
“Ugh…!”
“Have you still not realized your place, or do you actually enjoy this? If it’s affection you crave, there’s no need to provoke me—I’ll gladly give it on my own.”
Suppressing another groan, Riena gathered her courage.
“Raul…”
“Again? That man, again?”
“He said strange things. That he wrote me letters, that he came to see me, but I never received anything. Not a single word.”
Johannes listened quietly, as if curious how far she would go.
“He claimed I ignored him, that I even turned him away at the door. But I never did any such thing. Was that your doing? Why? Why would you do that?”
“…”
“You told him I was frail, hysterical, that my mind falters? You know better than anyone that isn’t true! If I ever went mad, it would be because of y—ugh!”
He slammed her against the wall by the shoulders, cutting her words short. Pain flared as if her bones would break.
“And if I say it is true…”
Johannes bent low, whispering at her ear.
“…what could you possibly do about it, my lady?”
“How could you… Raul is my friend! How could you—”
“How many times must I tell you?” Johannes’s voice softened to a lover’s murmur.
“You need no one but me.”
“—!”
With those words, Riena jolted awake.
Her chest heaved as if invisible hands had been choking her.
Clawing at her throat with trembling fingers, she fought desperately to breathe. Yet it felt as though she had forgotten how. Just when she thought she would suffocate, her airway finally opened again.
What kind of dream was that?
It was one of those dreams again. Yet it felt different this time.
Almost as if she had stepped into someone else’s mind, rummaging through their memories. Her head ached, as though someone had kneaded her brain with rough hands.
The dream was so vivid she could scarcely separate it from reality. Even the fear she’d felt lingered sharply, as if it were real.
For a long while, she couldn’t shake its grip.
Only after her breathing steadied could she think clearly.
What kind of dream was that?
Why on earth had she been married to Johannes, the Marquis of Beliar? Why had he abused her?
And Raul—why had he abandoned her? Was it because he did not trust her, or because he feared the wrath of House Beliar?
She would never know.
But betrayal, even in a dream, left her trembling.
It’s nonsense. The worst nonsense of any dream I’ve ever had.
Raul would never betray her.
And Johannes—known throughout the capital as the most gentlemanly of men—would never treat her that way.
More than that, it was absurd to think she would ever marry Johannes at all.
Riena took a few deeper breaths to calm herself, then tugged the bell rope.
“Good morning, my lady. The weather today is clea—oh heavens! My lady, what on earth happened?”
Amy shrieked when she saw the red marks across Riena’s neck. Riena hastily pulled the blanket up to cover herself, but Amy rushed forward and checked anyway.
“These are scratch marks! Who could have done this to you—?!”
“Amy, calm down. Who else could it have been? I must have scratched myself in my sleep.”
“Scratched… this badly?”
“Yes.”
Luckily, Amy seemed to accept the excuse. Still, she looked distressed as she studied the marks.
“It isn’t too deep, so it shouldn’t scar. But the redness may linger. I’ll fetch medicine from the physician.”
“Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“Oh, don’t thank me. I’m only doing my duty.”
She insisted on fetching the physician herself, leaving another maid to attend Riena. Just before she left, Riena caught her sleeve.
“Amy—do you know what the Duke is doing?”
“The Duke? Hmm…” Amy hesitated.
“He rose early, trained his body and practiced swordsmanship, then went out. I don’t know where exactly—he didn’t say.”
“I see. That’s fine. Thank you.”
“Yes, my lady.”
With a guilty look, Amy left.
Another maid soon entered, but through all their attentions, Riena could not drive the remnants of that dream from her mind.
