IGMU 68

Chapter 68

Late at night, the club was alive with billiards and card games. At another table, a drinking party was in full swing.

“Oh? Franz?”

“Why did you come back?”

Andrew and Richard, who had been playing billiards in the billiard room, were surprised when Franz entered.

“What about your jacket?”

At Marco’s curious question, Franz only shrugged, picked up a cue stick, and checked its balance. His stance was not just familiar—it was skillful.

“A wager?”

At Franz’s provocation, the three hesitated for a moment before shouting, “Call!”

“Ha. But playing against him is less a bet and more a scam.”

“If you’re scared, you can quit.”

Franz smirked confidently, and Andrew immediately snapped back.

“Hmph. I’m not the same guy I used to be.”

In the end, the wager ended in Franz’s victory. Until the very last moment, he and Andrew had been neck and neck, but it all ended anticlimactically when Andrew made a ridiculous mistake.

“Don’t think you’re lucky, Franz. If not for my mistake, it would’ve been my win.”

“If luck repeats, it’s skill.”

Andrew groaned in frustration after losing three games in a row.

“You’re buying the drinks.”

“The last game was a drinks bet, wasn’t it?”

“You devil. Haven’t you drained enough out of my pockets already?”

Andrew was dumbfounded at Franz’s shamelessness.

“Young Lord Andrew, is that all it takes to make you whine? Have a drink and play one more round.”

“Ha! You’re trying to ruin me completely, aren’t you?”

“Would you really go bankrupt over this little? Don’t exaggerate.”

“Tch!”

Andrew looked at him as if to say, What the hell is this? but soon gave up and headed for the table.

Franz’s mood seemed strangely off, so Andrew decided to go along with him for now.

“By the way, I heard the King of Altria has passed away.”

It was in today’s Publica newspaper. His health had deteriorated badly, and in the end, it had come to this.

“Then an envoy will be sent to Altria?”

“Yeah. My brother’s going.”

He had just returned from the palace that morning on that very matter. Franz was excluded from the delegation, which included the crown prince.

“Considering the situation, His Highness the Crown Prince must personally go.”

“Chloe must be devastated. Or rather… should I call her Queen Perssen now?”

“To think this happened not even three years into her marriage. Such terrible luck.”

Even when Chloe was mentioned, Franz showed no discomfort. Despite the ongoing conversation about Altria’s political situation and relations with Lapland, he merely sat there, staring blankly at his full glass of liquor.

It wasn’t just indifference—he looked as though his mind was entirely elsewhere, with no interest in the conversation.

What’s with him?

No idea.

He’s acting weird today.

Andrew, Richard, and Marco exchanged discreet glances.

“By the way, about Iela Clarence…”

The moment Richard brought it up, Franz, who had been drinking silently, raised an eyebrow.

“Isn’t her persistence something else? The gossip rags keep saying she’s desperate to catch Franz’s eye, or that she’s unladylike. But the fact she keeps going to Manches every week? That’s impressive.”

“Seems like she’s getting more popular.”

“Don’t you think so, Franz?”

All three looked at him.

“It’s good for Iela. Or… maybe not. Maybe it isn’t good at all.”

Muttering inexplicably under his breath, Franz drained his whiskey in one gulp and ordered another.

He’s so bad at being honest.

What the hell’s eating him?

No clue. Did something really happen?

Their curiosity burned, but Franz remained tight-lipped, downing drink after drink.

His expression was more serious than ever. Normally quiet, now he was practically terrifying in his silence.

Franz had everything—but character wasn’t one of them. Anyone who knew him knew that behind his handsome appearance was a downright nasty temper.

Andrew, you’re in charge of Franz tonight.

Why me?!

Who else here can keep up with him drinking?

Traitors.

While the three squabbled silently with their eyes, Franz ordered yet another whiskey.

What’s wrong with him now? Ugh, I’m dead.

Andrew had promised himself to stay away from alcohol for a while, with tomorrow’s appointments in mind. But with no way out, he gave up and picked up his glass.

Ugh. The liquor tasted especially bitter tonight.

“Milady, wake up.”

At Betty’s call, Iela blinked her eyes open.

“What time is it?”

The sunlight spilling in as the curtains were drawn was unusually bright.

“Almost eleven.”

“Already?”

“You seemed tired, so Madam told me not to wake you. Should I close the curtains again if you’d like to rest longer?”

“No, thank you for caring, Betty.”

Iela slowly sat up. Her body ached from an uncomfortable sleep.

“Madam went out with Lady Linton. She won’t be back soon—there’s a tea party. Lady Louisa is playing piano in the drawing room. Would you like me to bring your meal here?”

“Hmm. The weather’s nice, so maybe I’ll take a light meal outside for a walk instead.”

She hadn’t even thought about it—it just slipped out. Somehow, she didn’t want to stay home today. It felt like lingering memories would keep resurfacing.

“Yes! That sounds wonderful!”

Betty cheered, practically bouncing.

“Then let’s prepare.”

“I’ll go ask the kitchen to pack a picnic basket. I’ll hurry back to help you get ready, so please wait a bit.”

“Alright.”

“Oh? Milady, you have something on your neck.”

“Really? Where…”

Standing before the mirror, Iela inspected her neck. Beneath her hair, a red mark was faintly visible.

“Hm? What’s this?”

Her fingers brushed over the vivid mark—and then she froze.

Memories from yesterday rushed back. The burning warmth of lips, the vivid sensations. Her whole body flushed and tingled.

“Does it itch?”

Seeing Iela scratch at it, Betty asked innocently.

“Huh? Uh… yeah.”

“Must be a bug bite. Don’t scratch it more, I’ll bring ointment.”

Betty hurried out, leaving Iela slumped against the couch in a daze.

Her face was burning. A groan almost escaped her, and she covered her mouth with her hand. She was so shocked to realize, for the first time, what that mark really was.

She recalled a conversation with her cousin Luen, who had married last year.

“Luen, did a bug bite you? Doesn’t it itch?”

“Hm?”

“On your neck, I mean.”

“Oh, Iela, honestly! Hohoho. That’s from a very big bug, you could say. Don’t worry, it’ll fade in a few days.”

For several days, Luen had proudly left the marks uncovered, and just as she’d said, they eventually disappeared.

Back then, Iela had naively believed it and forgotten about it. Now she felt utterly foolish.

Is that what happens after marriage? Is it supposed to be… normal? And Luen was a year younger than her, too.

“Ah… how ridiculous I must look.”

Trying to erase the shame and humiliation, Iela hurried to dress. She pulled up a high-collared chemisette to cover her neck. It felt a bit stifling, but at least the mark was hidden.

“This is perfect. I was going to suggest a boat ride, but a walk works too. I didn’t expect you to suggest it first, Sis. Things have been so hectic lately.”

Iela and Louisa strolled along the path circling the lake, with Betty and Rosa following behind.

“Exactly. It’s times like this I need to rest too.”

“How have you been feeling?”

“Everything’s good. I feel freer than ever.”

Since deciding to change herself, Iela had resolved not to care about others’ opinions when she believed something was right. Of course, she wasn’t completely immune to stares and gossip, but she realized it was all a matter of perspective.

“That’s a relief. I was worried something was wrong.”

“What could be wrong?”

“How are things with His Highness the Prince?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’d honestly welcome him as a brother-in-law.”

Iela’s eyes widened in shock at Louisa’s words.

“Don’t say nonsense, Louisa.”

First Loren, and now Louisa too—she hadn’t expected to hear this again.

Why was everyone so eager to match her with the prince? Did they really think he was such a good person?

She herself had once thought he was a good man, the more she got to know him. But once bitten, twice shy.

Still, who was there to blame? If she hadn’t wanted it, she should have pushed him away when she had the chance. But she hadn’t—because she had been greedy. When he shamelessly asked if she didn’t like him, she hadn’t been able to deny it, because secretly, she had wanted to be close to him.

Even knowing it was wrong, she hadn’t disliked the kiss itself. In that moment, she hadn’t had room to think of anything else. So blaming the prince made no sense either.

“The gossip rags exaggerate. There’s nothing like that between us.”

“What’s wrong with you two? You’re as famous and talked-about in Birlun as he is.”

“Even so, you can’t compare us. Anyway, it’s not true.”

Iela dismissed the notion flatly.

“Why not?”

“He’s not my type.”

“Wow! You actually have a type? I thought you didn’t care about men at all.”

Louisa grinned teasingly.

“Come on, tell me—what’s your type?”

After thinking a moment, Iela described the opposite of Franz.

“Someone kind and gentle to everyone, well-mannered, always smiling.”

“Isn’t that just a flirt?”