Chapter 60
“Where did you two get to?”
“…Pardon?”
“How far did you go with Sonnet Bruce?”
Crown Prince Anasis spoke while recalling the incident at Mont the other day.
When Hugo had barged in and caused a scene, Anasis had refrained from stepping outside, trying to maintain an air of dignity. But, of course, his aides had reported the details to him.
“Hugo Ronald was shouting that all the rumors he’s been spreading were lies.”
“What rumors?”
“The rumors about Lady Layla.”
Anasis had grown up hearing every kind of gossip imaginable, thanks to his mother—the most powerful and influential figure in the social circles.
Naturally, he knew quite a bit about the rumors surrounding Layla.
He’d heard many times that she was promiscuous.
So before seeing her in person, he had simply thought of her as a vulgar and faithless woman.
But when he actually met her, he had been… unsettled.
With such beauty, it was easy to imagine why people would be drawn to her.
The reason he’d avoided speaking with her too much was a form of self-defense—if he got too close, his heart might get involved.
Yet, now that she had approached him of her own accord, he realized that his heart was already leaning toward her more than he’d wanted to admit.
Besides, even if the rumors were true, he didn’t see much of a problem.
She wasn’t going to be his empress, after all—merely a mistress.
And no matter how much he tried to dismiss her as ordinary, there simply was no beauty in the entire Empire quite like Layla’s.
He had been raised to believe that no one was more beautiful than his own mother, and up until now, that had been true.
But Layla was so stunning that denial was no longer an option.
She even had the kind of temperament he liked—gentle, but with thorns like a rose.
It was unpleasant to think she had been involved with various men, but given her poor health, she likely wouldn’t be able to do so in the future.
And once people knew she was his—his openly acknowledged secret—no one else would dare approach her.
Not even Sonnet Bruce would know the truth of their relationship for life.
“What are you talking about? With Sonnet?” Layla stared at him, wondering what on earth he meant. His expression was strange.
“Did you sleep with him?”
“No. We’re not married yet.”
“Did you kiss?”
“No.”
“Hug?”
“No.”
“Hold hands?”
Layla almost said they hadn’t even done that, but remembering that he probably knew about the incident with Hugo, she gave a small smile instead.
“We held hands.”
He let out a sigh.
“Well, at least let Viscount Bruce have all of your firsts. That’s the least you could do for him.”
Layla felt like she was going to be sick but forced a smile.
It was as if she were being appraised like merchandise—or like a cut of meat being graded under his gaze.
“Kissing, though… he wouldn’t even know if you did that with me first.”
He reached out, taking her chin in his hand, thinking she looked even more beautiful than usual today.
The blue dress for the engagement, those jewel-like sky-blue eyes, and her pink hair, half-tied with elaborate ornaments—it was dazzling.
“I don’t think now’s the time,” she murmured, lowering her gaze.
He stepped back.
“You’ll regret it.”
Layla was startled at the faintly hurt look on his face.
Why did he misunderstand like this?
He’d treated her like a tool to be used and discarded—yet now he was talking about being lovers?
Still, she had to think carefully about how much she needed him.
So she forced herself to say something she didn’t mean.
“Of course I’ll regret it.”
“Then why refuse?” His displeasure faded into curiosity.
With a sigh, Layla explained,
“So that I don’t like Your Highness too much. I’ll be the Marchioness of Bruce, and you will be the exalted Emperor.”
He crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow.
“So I think Your Highness should share your firsts with the future Crown Princess. Otherwise, I might forget my place and let my feelings for you grow even more.”
Her eyes reddened as she spoke.
Anasis stared at her blankly for a moment, then nodded.
“You really thought that far ahead?”
“…Yes.”
To avoid smudging her makeup, Layla pretended to yawn discreetly, moistening her eyes, then dabbed at them with her gloved hand.
Thinking she was actually crying, Anasis gave a short laugh.
“That’s quite adorable. Very proper.”
He caught her chin again, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
“This is a reward. For being so good.”
“…Th-thank you…” Layla barely restrained herself from shoving him away.
“See you later, then.”
With that, he sauntered out of the room.
Layla rubbed her cheek roughly in disgust, then went back to preparing for the engagement ceremony.
“You should be grateful to me.”
Sibelle spoke from beside Sonnet.
He sighed, stepping slightly away.
“Yes, thank you.”
“I helped with everything, since Layla was so busy.”
“That’s why I paid you accordingly.”
While Layla was preoccupied, Sonnet had prepared the engagement with Sibelle and her mother. Count Abier had asked him to be understanding of Layla’s busyness, since she was both earning money and distracted by the Lutenberg Crown Prince.
Sonnet had made the boundaries clear by paying Sibelle properly for her help.
Thanks to that, even if Eclair went bankrupt and was sold off, Sibelle could avoid major losses. In fact, she’d earned an amount equal to a dowry from Sonnet.
From this, Sibelle began to find Sonnet rather appealing. She knew he was wealthy, but not this wealthy.
The Bruce family’s fortune could probably buy up a hundred of Hugo Ronald’s businesses.
Even knowing that central nobles possessed vast wealth, she hadn’t expected it to be this staggering.
Sidling closer, she hooked her arm through his.
“Let go. I find it very unpleasant.”
“What’s unpleasant about it? I’m Layla’s sister.”
Sonnet was about to shake her off when—
“Um…”
“Hm?”
Sibelle noticed a young lady in a bonnet, head bowed as if to hide her identity.
“What are you doing here?!”
In that instant, Sonnet saw her too.
Releasing Sibelle’s arm, he hurried over to the lady in the dark green dress and led her away.
Sibelle caught a glimpse of the hair peeking out from beneath the bonnet—sideburns and strands at the nape of the neck.
It was unmistakably pink.
“What the…”
She watched as Sonnet quickly escorted the woman away and couldn’t help but smirk.
What kind of situation was this?
“That bastard has a mistress. That’s why he’s like that with Layla.”
“What nonsense are you talking about, Hugo?”
“Sonnet Bruce—he’s seeing some woman on the side. I heard she’s got pink hair. Probably planning to replace Layla with her if Layla doesn’t live long.”
“You really think that would work?”
“Why not? Under Imperial law, a married woman can’t leave her husband’s house without his permission anyway.”
Remembering that conversation with Hugo, Sibelle grinned with a strange sense of triumph.
That ugly, freckled face she’d seen beneath the bonnet—and the same sky-blue eyes as Layla’s.
A weakness. And a woman plain enough that Sibelle could easily outshine her.
“See? Heaven’s on my side.”
Looking pleased, she glanced toward the Crown Prince emerging from Layla’s waiting room, stroking the matching ring on his left ring finger as if it were a precious treasure.
“Haa…”
Layla struggled to breathe; the dress was so tight it felt suffocating. The design cinched her figure dramatically, as if on purpose.
“You look so beautiful, Layla.”
Sonnet’s face was flushed as he looked at her.
Smiling, she replied, “You too.”
But she also felt strange, noticing that Raynier was nowhere in sight.
“Isn’t this a bit too extravagant? What will you do for the wedding then?”
She looked around at the venue, which was more splendid than most weddings she’d seen.
“The wedding will be even bigger. And for the wedding…”
Sonnet leaned in, whispering with a shy smile and reddened ears,
“We could do it while you’re carrying our child. That would make it even grander.”
“…What?”
“My parents want a grandchild soon.”
Layla didn’t know how to respond, so she just smiled awkwardly.
Then the music announcing the start of the engagement played.
Thinking it best not to comment further, she took his hand and entered.
“Oh my…”
The sight that greeted her was shocking.
“Congratulations on your engagement, Layla!”
Sibelle and her entourage stood waiting—dressed in gowns of the exact same design as Layla’s.
Except theirs were an even brighter, flashier shade of blue, making Layla’s dress seem almost plain in comparison.
“Layla’s a bit shy, so we thought we’d all be the stars of the ceremony together. Isn’t that right?”
Sibelle smiled at Layla, unable to hide the mocking glint in her eyes.
