The Emperor declared proudly to his wife,
“The imperial throne belongs to former Imperial Princess Yvonne. No one else has a rightful claim to the bloodline but her!”
At those words, even the Empress could no longer hold back and shouted in return.
“Please stop this nonsense! Bentley is your son! The throne belongs to our son!”
“Silence!”
On the brink of death and plagued by nightmares each night, the Emperor no longer heard the Empress’s words. Instead, he muttered again, as if trying to scratch an invisible itch.
“Apology… at least now, … bring in the former Imperial Princess quickly…”
The Empress glared coldly at the Emperor.
Once outside his chambers, she clenched her jaw and bit her lip.
“He’s gone senile in his final moments.”
At that, Crown Prince Bentley held his mother’s arm with a gentle smile.
“Please watch your words, Mother.”
“Then what else should I call it, if not senility?”
“When death draws near, anyone’s heart is bound to waver.”
Bentley replied in a calm tone.
‘People lose their judgment when they become obsessed with a single thought.’
He wasn’t entirely upset with the Emperor. He was somewhat relieved that the old man had spoken of her now, before passing away.
‘If she had appeared after Father’s death, it would have been far more troublesome.’
The daughter born between a fairy and a human—Yvonne, the former Imperial Princess.
The story of the former emperor—who received a witch’s curse while trying to protect a beautiful fairy—had long been romanticized and was still popular in the market streets. Even after a new emperor had taken the throne, the tale of the previous ruler continued to be told.
If his daughter were proven to be real, the reaction would surely be enormous.
‘Still, it doesn’t mean the throne would return to her. Just because she’s the daughter of a fairy doesn’t mean she can govern a nation well.’
Right now, however, she represented the sole threat to the succession.
‘Whether she’s dead or alive, her status must be made clear…’
The crown prince walked forward, his expression gentle and composed. But in his mind, only cold, calculated thoughts lined up one after another. Just as he turned the corner, his attendant approached swiftly.
“Your Highness, a moment please.”
Bentley pressed his lips to the back of the Empress’s hand with graceful courtesy.
“I’ll see you later, Mother.”
The back of the Empress’s hand, worn from long days at the emperor’s sickbed, carried a faint medicinal scent. After moving a short distance away, Bentley flicked his hand as if to wave that smell from his face and turned to his attendant.
“What is it?”
“There’s been a message from the Duke of Christopher.”
“Dante?”
The sealed letter—training ensured that only urgent or sensitive ones were delivered—was barely the size of a fingertip.
‘Is this good news… or bad?’
A young girl, fleeing without parents, couldn’t possibly survive on her own for long. If someone had recognized her and deliberately hidden her all this time, it could only mean they had their eyes on the throne. In that case, even with Dante involved, there was a high chance they wouldn’t be able to secure her safely.
‘Well… that would simply be my fate.’
Bentley let out a quiet breath. Then, he unfolded the letter. Its message was so concise, there was no room for misunderstanding. He let out a soft chuckle.
“Seems the fickle goddess of fortune has decided to favor me this time.”
Dante’s blunt personality came through clearly in the sharp, angular handwriting etched onto the white paper.
Found it.
* * *
After mobilizing every soldier and scouring the entire estate, Emil spoke to the Count and Countess Kleene in a somber voice.
“Yvonne has… left the Kleene estate.”
“Oh, heavens.”
The countess’s face turned pale. She swayed for a moment, then suddenly changed as if she were a different person entirely. Her expression twisted with fury as she grabbed Emil’s arm tightly.
“What on earth did you do?! How could you not notice anything until Yvonne was already gone?!”
“I’m sorry.”
Emil bowed his head to his mother, but in truth, he was just as frustrated.
‘How could a girl who couldn’t do anything on her own possibly escape the estate?’
For someone as quiet and well-behaved as Yvonne to move so quickly, she must have made up her mind completely. Emil clenched his teeth. Only one person came to mind.
‘What in the world did Rossiane say to her…?’
Rossiane.
It had to be her. She must’ve revealed their relationship in the most provocative way possible.
‘The pure Yvonne would be devastated to learn that her fiancé had an affair with her closest friend.’
Truthfully, the reason he’d gotten involved with Rossiane in the first place was to shock Yvonne. But this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
‘I wanted it to be perfect—wanted her to fall into despair only when there was no way out.’
Her despair, her resentment—they were all meant to belong to him alone. What he’d anticipated was for Yvonne to completely fall apart while still in his grasp. Her running away like this? That was far from satisfying. And now, even his parents were rebuking him over it.
He needed to bring her back quickly, especially before her sorrow grew too deep.
‘… Though that in itself is rather exciting, isn’t it?’
The thought of dragging back a woman who hated him made his heart pound dangerously. Yes, Rossiane had made a foolish move, but Emil could still find pleasure in this situation, in his twisted way.
And now, the biggest problem was that they had no idea where Yvonne had gone.
‘I need to get her back by my side no matter what.’
The fact that she was completely beyond his control right now was deeply unpleasant. Emil clenched his fists. After a long pause, the Count finally spoke slowly.
“We should ask her maid. After all, the maid was the last person to be with her.”
“You’re right!”
The Countess, who had been wringing her hands, agreed in a loud voice. With that, the maid who had come running with the letter was immediately summoned to stand before the Count and Countess.
Though her voice trembled, it was clear she had a lot to say. As if she’d been waiting for this very moment, she spilled everything at once.
“Miss Yvonne seemed very anxious yesterday. She was sweating profusely, claiming she had exercised indoors. Later, she was pacing around her room, covered in dirt.”
At that, the Countess’s eyebrows arched sharply.
“Covered in dirt? But she said she had a headache and stayed in her room all day.”
“Yes, yes. When I informed her that Miss Rossiane had come to visit, she said she couldn’t meet her due to a headache. But when I went in to change the bedsheets, the young lady was standing there, filthy with dirt. Her chemise was torn to shreds as well.”
“So while Rossiane was waiting in the drawing room, Yvonne had already gone out and come back… Is that what you’re saying?”
At the Countess’s pointed remark, Rossiane hurriedly shook her head.
“I don’t know anything. I was with Emil the whole time.”
“With Emil…”
There must have been something that made Yvonne certain about the relationship between Emil and Rossiane.
As the Countess repeated Rossiane’s words with suspicion, her eyes narrowed sharply.
“You two—were you perhaps holding hands? Or maybe… embracing?”
“Th-that’s impossible!”
The Countess’s sharp inference was dangerously close to the truth. Back in the drawing room, Rossiane had indeed kissed Emil. She had done it deliberately, posing as Yvonne to provoke him.
Though Emil had kissed her on impulse, lured in by the act, Rossiane had been fully aware that Yvonne was watching them from outside.
That brat was acting oddly yesterday. Usually, she never catches on to anything, no matter how obvious I make it.
In truth, this wasn’t the first time Rossiane had played tricks. She had adjusted Emil’s collar in front of Yvonne and made suggestive remarks, all to test the waters. But every time, Yvonne would only blink innocently, completely unfazed.
That drove Rossiane mad. It was as if that naive girl was silently declaring that no matter what happened, the Countess’s seat would still belong to her.
‘Poor little thing, heading into marriage without a clue. I was just doing her a favor by showing her a bit of reality. Still, I never expected she’d run away…’
Though surprising, in a way, it worked out better this way. Hidden under her hand, Rossiane’s lips curled into a sly smile.
‘Yvonne was never suited to be the Countess of Kleene anyway. The Countess will realize that now. She’ll see that Yvonne doesn’t deserve to be Emil’s wife.’
Sure, she had a pretty face, but she lacked the charisma to command the loyalty of those beneath her. She was naïve, bad with calculations, and had no aptitude for managing internal affairs. She couldn’t possibly handle the sharp-tongued noblewomen of the East.
Rossiane looked toward the Countess of Kleene with quiet expectation.
But what she received in return was a voice firmer than she had ever heard before.
“Emil’s wife will be Yvonne. And only Yvonne. If, by any chance, you harbor feelings for my son, abandon them now. From this moment on, do not set foot in this house again.”
“….”
Rossiane’s nails dug deep into her palm.
