Chapter 4

“Ah! Marquis Schumiern, it’s been a long time.”

Two nobles immediately bent at the waist in greeting.

It was him.

The one who sometimes offered her a smile when they crossed paths in the royal palace,
the only one who had stood by her side during the trial,
and the one who had witnessed her death—Schumiern.

At last, he appeared.

Schumiern looked younger than he had when she’d last seen him before her death.

Even his neat suit couldn’t hide the solid build beneath;
his sharp jawline, straight and proud nose, deep blue eyes,
and hair the color of molten gold reminded one of a god from myth.
All eyes were drawn to him.

Amid the captivated gazes—some enchanted, some spellbound—
a low, charming voice rang out.

“Everyone here is someone we ought to protect, are they not?
His Majesty himself said so not long ago.
So I suggest we be careful with our words outside.”

He lifted the corner of his lips into a pleasant smile.
When he gave a second, slightly stronger smile, a deep dimple formed at the left corner of his mouth.

The title of “peerless handsome man” whispered about him in society seemed insufficient to describe that beautiful smile.
Sighs of admiration erupted here and there—it was the sound of women who had been watching him secretly.
The noble standing directly before Schumiern, seeing that smile head-on, became so flustered that he stammered.

“Ah, y-yes, of course, Marquis.”

Schumiern gave a small nod and brushed past the noble.

“What an arrogant bastard.”

The man who had bowed lifted his head and twisted his lips in disdain,
spilling venom as soon as Schumiern was out of sight.

“So what if he’s the King’s cousin?
The man lives off the state doing nothing,
yet he thinks he can tell us what to do?”

The ugly duality of the nobility revealed itself without reserve.

Before commoners, they flaunted their titles;
before someone of higher rank, they acted as though titles meant nothing.

And they weren’t like this to everyone—only to those they considered weak.
To many noblemen, Schumiern was easy prey.

That was because he was under the strict watch of the current king, Louis.
Not because he had done anything wrong, but because he was too competent—
and because he carried royal blood.

A man who had fallen out of favor with the most powerful figure in the kingdom
was easy to trample for those who lived off that same power.

Of course, they only did it behind his back.
In front of him, they couldn’t say a word.
On the contrary, they grovelled—just like now.

No matter how much Louis kept him in check,
Schumiern was still royalty,
and the only one who could openly insult or dismiss him to his face was Louis himself.

He was truly a good man.

Ariel felt it was pitiful that he was slandered behind his back.

That was why, in this life, she decided she would take Schumiern’s hand instead of Blake’s.

She didn’t know if Schumiern would take hers,
but she had to try.

To bring down Blake, she needed a weapon—
and Schumiern was the finest weapon she could ask for.

Of course, she had no intention of using him only for her own gain.
She planned to use all the information she possessed to raise him so high
that even the King wouldn’t dare touch him.

She was confident.

We can be good allies for each other.

Ariel’s eyes gleamed as she slowly approached the Arte Exhibition Hall.

The carriage that had just departed with Schumiern inside
was now returning to the exhibition hall.

Its speed was fast—fast enough that it couldn’t stop even upon seeing a child standing in its path.

“Kids, move aside!”

The coachman shouted toward the children playing ball in the plaza.
They hurriedly moved out of the way when they saw the carriage racing toward them.
But not all of them escaped.

Ariel’s gaze locked on a brown-haired boy who had frozen in fear before the oncoming carriage.

He was unusually small and frail.

“Kid, I said move!”

The coachman yelled again, his voice filled with urgency.
In the distance, the boy’s parents ran toward him, waving their arms frantically.

The boy snapped out of it at the last moment and kicked off the ground—
but in doing so, he lost his ball.

The boy’s next move was all too easy to predict.

“Oh no, my ball!”

He twisted his body and darted toward the carriage.

The rolling ball, the parents’ desperate screams,
and Ariel’s knowledge of what was about to happen—

She knew:
the boy would be struck by the carriage and seriously injured,
and Schumiern would face heavy criticism from the common people over the incident.

It was an all-too-common carriage accident,
but Ariel remembered it vividly.

Because it was this very event that led Schumiern to leave the kingdom
and travel the world for a year.

A handsome, young marquis journeying across the globe was newsworthy,
and for a time the newspapers were filled with nothing but articles about him.

She couldn’t forget.

Ariel looked at the carriage that was about to hit the boy.

The coachman’s face had gone pale as he struggled desperately to calm the panicked horses.

“Nooooo!”

The brown-haired boy’s parents screamed,
their cries long, drawn-out, and harrowing—
like an aria in an opera, reaching its climax,
elevating the protagonist into the spotlight.

Ariel wanted Schumiern to stay in the kingdom.
No—she intended to make him stay.
Only then could she paint the future she desired.

She clenched her fists.
Without hesitation, she threw herself between the carriage and the boy to achieve her goal.

From that moment, everything became sharp and slow—
the coachman’s eyes bulging wide,
the people covering their mouths to stifle their screams,
the boy clutching the ball as if it were a lifeline…

Ariel’s only thought was to save the boy.
She gathered him into her arms and lowered her body in one swift motion.

“Aaaahhhhh!”

The scream—she couldn’t tell whose—filled the plaza.

Her heart pounded as if it would burst.
Saving the boy had been a calculated risk that came with a high chance of injury.
She bit her lower lip in preparation for the pain she knew would come.

Bang!
A tremendous crash rang out,
and then, as if cold water had been poured over the scene, silence fell.

Feeling the small movements of the boy in her arms,
Ariel slowly opened the eyes she had squeezed shut.

She felt no pain.

Just before hitting her, the horse had barely swerved aside,
and the carriage had stopped right in front of the fountain.

In short—everyone was safe.

Relief washed over her, and her strength gave out; she collapsed to the ground.

“Hah… hahh…”

Small arms wrapped tightly around her waist.
The ball slipped from the boy’s hands, bounced twice, and rolled away.

“Uwahh… uwaaahh!”

The boy finally burst into tears.

“Sweetheart, are you all right? Thank you, truly thank you.”

His mother rushed over, bowing repeatedly.
She pried him gently from Ariel’s arms and inspected him all over.

The boy was perfectly fine—not a scratch.

“This kindness… thank you so much, thank you…”

She insisted on giving Ariel a reward,
but Ariel had no interest in her thanks.

The person who truly owed her was someone else.

That person was now approaching—
golden hair streaming,
a face etched with guilt.

“Are you all right? My horses have done a terrible wrong.
Please, let me take you to a physician.”

Schumiern knelt on one knee and extended his hand to her.
All eyes in the plaza were now on them.

Ariel moved to take his hand but, still trembling, hid it behind her.

“I’m fine.”

Schumiern reached for the hand she had hidden and took it before she could refuse.
Before she knew it, he had pulled her gently to her feet.

Her legs gave way immediately, and she swayed.
His arm circled her waist at once.

“You’re badly shaken.”

His voice was troubled.

“Your Excellency, allow me to escort her.”

Schumiern’s secretary, Jun, stepped forward,
but Schumiern raised an arm to stop him.

“Pardon me, my lady.”

He bent deeply and lifted her into his arms.

“I’ll take the young lady to the physician myself.
Jun, take the boy who almost got hurt for an examination as well.
And give his parents compensation.”

“Is that really necessary? An examination for the boy, sure, but—”

“Jun, my horses ruined their happy weekend.
I must take responsibility.”

All the while, Schumiern’s tone was gentle but firm.
And all the while, he held Ariel in his arms.

He smelled exactly as he had when she was on the brink of death—
because it had been him holding her then, too.
Unconsciously, she gripped the lapel of his coat.

“Forgive me, I’ve kept an injured person waiting too long.”

Schumiern smiled down at her.
He was still just as kind and beautiful.

Ariel wanted to protect that smile to the very end.

So you protect me, too.

She clutched his lapel tighter, her resolve set.
The gears of her revenge began to turn.

“There are no injuries.
Still, just in case, you should rest well tonight.”

The examination ended quickly.

“I’ll see you home.”

Ariel declined his offer.
Instead, she made another.

“Before I go home, there’s something I want to tell you.
Could you spare me a moment?”

“For me?”

Schumiern raised both eyebrows.