MHHC Chapter 59

Hatred Over Affection

"What rumors?"

Valentin asked softly. It wasn't that he didn't know—the discomfort with this subject was written plainly across his face, clear as ink on parchment.

Normally, she would have retreated at this point. But now she had to summon courage she didn't possess, scrape it together from wherever such things might hide.

If things continued as they were, not only Valentin but all of Ansgar would fall into danger—it was only a matter of time, the slow inevitability of shadows lengthening across stone.

The ground they stood on belonged to the Emperor. The board had been woven with intricate precision by the nobility, thread by silken thread.

And she had never been deeply schooled in politics, that particular language of power and ruin.

'I need to say it. I have to speak.'

But did it truly have to be now? The resolve that had been so firm when she first opened her mouth kept crumbling away, grain by grain like sand through fingers.

Even though she knew better than anyone that time was running out, bleeding away with each passing moment.

Sometimes it felt strange. Lately, it was as if her own heart no longer belonged to her...

"Your silence is stretching long, Adele."

She snapped out of her brief reverie. He sat propped against the windowsill, chin resting on his hand, watching her with languid eyes that caught the dying light.

"...I was thinking you might find this topic uncomfortable."

Adelheid deliberately turned her gaze from his face as she continued, as though looking away might make the words come easier.

"Did you happen to overhear the conversation Margaret and I were having the other day?"

The smooth smile that had been draped across his lips dimmed slightly, like a candle guttering in a draft.

"Ah."

"You need to understand the context in which that conversation arose. There are strange rumors circulating about the gifts you've received."

"You mean that insignificant gold."

"That 'insignificant gold' happens to be quite extraordinary by human standards. Especially lately, His Majesty's 'gifts' have been excessive. Anyone would consider them preferential treatment."

"......"

"Preferential treatment breeds pointless jealousy. One wrong step in conduct and it will invite unnecessary misunderstandings."

Valentin let out a short laugh. When she frowned, he touched his lips as if to smooth them and said:

"I didn't realize you were concerned to that extent."

"If I—confined to my room with illness—heard this much, please don't think it trivial and listen properly."

"I don't find Adele's opinions trivial in the slightest."

His expression hardened as he spoke, taking on an earnest quality.

Adelheid narrowed her eyes as if gauging whether he meant it, then quickly pressed on.

"Especially this rumor about the assembly considering your succession rights as top priority... That rumor is lethal. Once even respectable nobles start believing it, the situation will spiral beyond control."

Succession rights. Just voicing those words sent a cold shiver crawling across her skin like frost spreading over glass.

Adelheid clenched her trembling fist again, pressing down hard.

"If this situation continues, there might even be filthy misunderstandings about your birth—"

"Ah, that's not a misunderstanding."

"Not a misunderstanding?"

Adelheid's eyes went round as coins. Valentin laughed softly at the sight, as though finding her expression endearing.

"You seem surprised. I thought bloodline issues were common talk among humans."

"Not at all, Valentin, I truly—"

Adelheid blinked her shock-stiffened eyelids with difficulty. Then a thought struck her suddenly and she spoke in a rush.

"Then His Majesty knows everything and... cherishes you anyway? It's not simply generosity toward a nephew?"

"At least the Empress must know. Every time our eyes meet, she makes this murderous expression."

He pulled up the corners of his eyes with two fingers, demonstrating.

Even that playful gesture didn't ease Adelheid's expression. Instead, her face grew paler as she asked:

"The Empress too?"

"If it matters to Adele, shall I confirm it properly? Though I'd have to rummage through some brains."

Brains... Adelheid pretended not to hear the horrifying word and continued questioning.

"Then how is Duke Oskar... I thought you two were full brothers."

"Oskar?"

Valentin narrowed his eyes for a moment as if he couldn't remember who that was.

Then, apparently recalling, he made a small sound of realization and replied dismissively.

"Well, just look—we don't resemble each other at all."

"You're saying he's not the Grand Duke's blood... Is that what you mean?"

"Different mothers, surely. The woman the Grand Duke loved died right after giving birth."

The woman the Grand Duke loved.

Was she Valentin's birth mother? The more she conversed with him, the more her curiosity only intensified, multiplying like shadows.

Where exactly had Valentin learned all this information? Just weeks ago, his speech and even his memories had been faltering...

As if sensing her doubt, Valentin smiled smoothly.

"Humans seem to forget so easily, but they actually forget nothing. They only pretend to forget."

"......"

"To me, humans' pasts look like books that are merely a bit difficult to read. Tedious, perhaps, but there are plenty of ways to learn if I want to."

Adelheid crumpled her skirt in both hands, the fabric bunching between her fingers.

'If everything I've just heard is true.'

What if the Emperor wasn't simply fond of Valentin, but had decided to transfer the Crown Prince's position to him? The sudden thought sent an icy chill racing down her spine like fingertips of frost.

Until now, she'd assumed that even when the Emperor showed excessive favor, it was because his love for his nephew overflowed. That it came from guilt over his brother's early death. That even that was performative—merely a means to check the Empress's Ernst faction.

'I thought it was all just to pressure them...'

After all, the Emperor consistently ignored his own eldest son while constantly seeking out his nephew. Even as the Empress grew mad with jealousy. Even as the Empress's Ernst family relentlessly pressured the Emperor, whose support base was weak.

'If Valentin doesn't actively clarify or express refusal, soon Denburg will be swept by an unstoppable bloodstorm.'

She glanced at him, suppressing her anxious heart.

'But Valentin promised to return to Ansgar. Surely, even if achieving the "contract" is urgent, he wouldn't covet the Crown Prince's position...'

But if, by some chance, Valentin became Crown Prince during this banquet—

Then he would achieve his first contract earlier than planned, and the soul of the 'Grand Duke of Ansgar' would return to its original body.

And then Adelheid would have to leave Ansgar.

'What about Ansgar's people then? Who would look after them?'

A Crown Prince Valentin couldn't leave Pragma.

The immediate alternative that came to mind was Oskar, but even Hermann had clicked his tongue at his incompetence.

'My head is spinning.'

Nothing was resolved clearly. Worse, there was nothing she could do within her power to fix any of it. She could only sit quietly and wait, whether in the hunting grounds or the banquet hall, while the future closed in moment by moment like gathering storm clouds.

Watching Adelheid's face cloud with complicated emotions, he let out a brief laugh that seemed to catch on something sharp.

"Why such an expression?"

Valentin's low laughter sounded different from usual. Adelheid slowly raised her eyes to meet his.

He wore a smile that was somehow chillingly beautiful, like moonlight on ice.

Adelheid found herself curious about what emotion lurked beneath Valentin's beautiful face, coiled and waiting in the depths.

As she stared quietly, his hand caught her chin. He met her gaze leisurely and spoke slowly, each word deliberate.

"Surely."

His elegant eyes narrowed in an instant, sharp as blades.

"You're not worried about this shell I'm wearing, are you?"

...Shell. The word felt foreign, wrong. Adelheid closed her mouth. The sharp edge hidden in his deliberately chosen words scraped against her nerves like glass across skin.

Her words momentarily stuck, and his smile grew colder still.

"Does this shell I wear look different now that you know it has valuable bloodline? Even though it's nothing but a mere human."

"What— That's suddenly... such an absurd thing to say..."

"Adele."

She could feel him straining to suppress nerves drawn taut as wire. Even while smiling, she felt it thrumming beneath the surface.

The smile barely clinging to Valentin's lips soon faded without a trace, like breath on glass.

"I hate when you pay attention to anything other than me. Even if it's about this shell I'm wearing. Even if it's about that little rabbit hole you hold so dear."

"......"

"I'm very greedy, you see."

Only then did Adelheid dimly grasp why Valentin had been so uncooperative throughout this entire conversation, resistant as a locked door.

"I want that small head of yours to be filled with thoughts of me alone. So full that nothing else could dare squeeze in."

His firm thumb pressed down on her lips, steady and unyielding.

Valentin gazed at her as if looking at something precious, then smiled viciously, something feral moving behind his eyes.

"To achieve that, would hatred work better than affection?"

"......"

"Hm? Adelheit."

He called her name sweetly, as if urging an answer from her trembling silence.

When she looked up at him, stunned into pale stillness, his gaze grew even more tenacious, as if this were exactly what he'd wanted.

His eyes moved slowly, as if observing the trembling of even the finest down feather.

Her pale pupils fixed on him like something preserved in amber, her eyelids trembling delicately, her cheeks and the bridge of her nose flushed red, the lips he was nonchalantly pressing down—all of it held in his gaze like specimens under glass.

That leisureliness made her body temperature spike suddenly, heat flooding through her. Her heart beat frantically, a caged bird's wings.

"......"

The lips he'd parted with his finger trembled sensitively, as if anticipating what might come next, waiting like a question hanging in darkness.