RAMHM Chapter 27

I Want You

The words wouldn't come—stunned into silence, completely dumbfounded. And watching Novian reject that absurd notion as troublesome yet still maneuver to keep Bliea close regardless, something inside her twisted violently, chaotically.

"That's good, but..."

"......"

"People are saying the Crown Prince's birthday celebration is coming soon."

I rose from my seat to cool my rising anger, heading toward the drawing room connected to the dining hall. It was a reception room used for gathering on sofas after meals, for teatime or a drink. I gazed out at the darkening evening, watching him reflected in the window glass. Novian had followed and now drew close behind me. He watched me quietly through the window's reflection, as if inviting me to continue.

"If you're a capital noble, it's an event everyone must attend..."

A large, warm palm settled on my shoulder. Completely natural. Goosebumps rippled across my skin. The drawing room was empty, and the surrounding corridors were silent—clearly the loyal Jimskehr had cleared away all the servants.

"How long do you plan to keep me hidden?"

"You..."

"I want to go as your partner. Not as Count Acacia."

"That's impossible."

"Why?"

Novian's face showed clear reluctance to explain. Another unfamiliar expression—one he'd never shown Adrienne.

"An imperial who hasn't even finished his wife's funeral, attending a palace ball with a vassal's wife as his partner?"

"The Count is so frail he couldn't even stand at a ball, much less dance once. Literally, since 'Her Grace the Grand Duchess' is absent, you could attend with one of your vassals' unpartnered wives, couldn't you?"

"Stop this nonsense."

He cut me off flatly, as if he'd heard enough.

"Then you're saying you don't mind if I attend with someone else?"

I'd decided to start needling Novian.

'My help ends the day I confirm Adrienne's body. I can't understand why the Grand Duke would see you after losing Adrienne, and it enrages me. But helping you will be punishment enough.'

'Anything but killing him—I can help with any other method. Use me as much as you're able.'

'Until the day I can no longer help, I'll cooperate fully.'

'Don't touch the Grand Duke of Trovika rashly. Not until you find something to bring him down completely.'

I recalled what Rhodness had said that day while treating my hand, when I'd been filled with fury and despair. If it was the Crown Prince's birthday celebration, his younger brother Rhodness would attend as well. He'd told me to use him—so if I attended as his partner, I'd draw everyone's eyes.

If the Second Prince, who doesn't get along with you, and your mistress attend as partners—how would that make you feel?

I wanted to know what drove Novian to despair. First, I was curious what face he'd make when Bliea—whom he thought was his—got another man, when he realized she'd escaped his sphere of influence. Maybe I'd save killing Novian for after that. If he died too easily, wouldn't that be too unfair to me?

"Ha, what?"

He stopped stroking my shoulder and roughly spun me around, as if dumbfounded. Dark, sunken blue eyes looked down at me.

"Did I just hear you wrong?"

"What good are these pretty dresses you buy me? When the man I wear is so unsatisfactory."

A precise shot aimed at Count Acacia. Novian pressed his lips tight.

"Did I mishear that day?"

"......"

"Adrienne—whom you could never have even once. Adrienne, whom you can never have for all eternity, rather than..."

"...Stop."

"I want you."

I whispered to him with Adrienne's face. Novian's blue eyes shook violently.

"I want you, I said."

What he'd told me to stop was his own previous words—not what this Bliea was saying now.

"Is that not allowed?"

"Bliea..."

Wouldn't Bliea have wanted to push aside Adrienne's place and possess this man completely? That's why she'd babbled about wanting to become the Grand Duchess, not knowing her place.

A woman who loved attention and luxury that much—how could she not want to wear Novian like the finest ornament at a ball? Perhaps she'd liked him for exactly that reason from the start. Novian's eyes—gripping my shoulders—wavered mercilessly, and my own heart became a candle flame before the wind just as much.

Novian seen through Bliea's eyes was utterly new. All these expressions he'd never shown me in two years of marriage as husband and wife—he revealed them so readily to this woman.

"...This time will be difficult. But I'll think of a way we can be together soon. With the Count absent from the capital, you should rest and claim poor health."

And then I was pulled into that familiar embrace. Ah—the familiar scent. The familiar chest. The strong arms holding me so tight I might burst. My heart had been burning like an unquenchable fire ever since reading Bliea's diary, so why... why were tears falling like this?

The next day, Rhodness and I sat inside Ristorante Gendica as always, studying.

Of course, it was a private space surrounded by walls on all sides. The window draped with thin chiffon curtains faced a back garden where no one passed by, and on days like today when we met earlier than usual, the sunlight reached him like a spotlight aimed precisely at Rhodness.

Watching golden dust motes float along his glittering hair, I lowered my gaze to his thick Adam's apple, his slouched posture barely fitting the small chair, and then—contrasting with that careless pose—the quite properly held quill pen in his hand.

His hands were large enough to make my own quill look like a child's toy, slightly sun-darkened but with thick, long knuckles that were beautiful. Rhodness's face grew increasingly rigid as he stared at the composition assignment I'd written, scratching something with his pen for a very long time.

I thought I was writing well based on what he taught me—was I wrong?

It was my first time showing my writing privately to anyone besides Novian, so I felt embarrassed. Unable to bear the atmosphere growing oddly heavy, I opened my mouth toward Rhodness, who'd frozen like a figure in a painting.

"Will Your Highness be attending as well?"

Rhodness startled as if someone had pushed him, his head jerking up. His red eyes—like lamps lit within golden dust—slowly swept over me before darting quickly back to my assignment.

"...Attending what?"

"The Crown Prince's birthday celebration."

"...Probably."

Had I written the composition that poorly? His stiffened expression wouldn't relax.

"'Probably' for your own brother?"

"More importantly, I gave you other assignments besides the composition."

Rhodness deflected, clearly unwilling to discuss the topic.

"Of course I did them all. They're under the book you're looking at now. But will you be attending the birthday celebration or not? A clear answer would be helpful."

"Mm..."

"It's not certain yet, but I'm trying to arrange to attend with the Grand Duke of Trovika."

"Did he request that?"

His handsome brow twisted slightly, and I waved my hands frantically. I'd wanted to avoid that rigid expression, but I certainly didn't want to face an angry one.

"No! I requested it because showing my face in society with him might help me later. He hasn't given permission yet, though."

"I don't particularly want to attend."

"...Why not?"

Rhodness's eyebrows trembled faintly as he'd been listening quietly. Discomfort? Contempt? Making a strange expression, he stared at my face before exhaling a low sigh with heated eyes.

"I haven't attended a single ball since the Grand Duke and Adrienne married."

"...Is that so?"

I hadn't known. Thinking about it, for the Crown Prince's full brother, he didn't seem to show his face at balls often. After all, the gossip papers called him "the veiled prince" precisely because he rarely appeared at events.

"Thanks to that, I never had to see Adrienne entering the ballroom with the Grand Duke."

"What...?"

"I consider that fortunate."

He blurred his eyes for a moment as if lost in old memories, then let out a small laugh.

"Just imagining it feels like my heart is being torn apart, so I'll leave it at that."

Then he pressed his lips firmly shut. Heart being torn apart. For someone who always seemed to teach carelessly yet honestly, those were quite emotional words.

"What does that... have to do with whether the Grand Duke and I attend?"

"...You and the Grand Duke. The two of you being in the ballroom together would also be—unpleasant in its own way."

"What do you mean by—"

He slapped the textbook he'd been holding onto the table with a sharp thwack, placing even the quill he'd been lightly gripping on top. His heavy, sunken red eyes turned toward what he'd set down.

"What would Adrienne think, seeing that spectacle?"

"!"

"Just thinking about how sad and angry Adrienne would have been if she'd lived to see that spectacle..."

Then he looked at me with eyes containing every emotion. Rhodness sometimes saw the original 'Adrienne' in me. That's probably why someone rumored to be so frightening at least pretended to be polite with me. And simultaneously, he quietly seethed with anger looking at Bliea's face. That face from the victory celebration day—when he'd watched my tryst with Novian with contempt—occasionally surfaced. The pen gripped tight again. An expression neither crying nor smiling. Clenched teeth and trembling jaw revealed everything.

"...If Adrienne saw that spectacle, she'd collapse from shock."

I froze under his quietly seething gaze as he scrutinized my expression, then let out a silent snort.

'Right. A few days ago, I certainly would have.'

If only this damned Bliea hadn't pitied me. If I didn't have that reasonable suspicion that Novian might have been involved in my death. Even now it was certainly sad and painful.

But the fire blazing hot enough to smother those feelings—that was fury. Fury that the person I'd thought knew me best, who'd known better than anyone my desperate desire to live, had given me death. He hadn't stabbed me with a blade or forced poison down my throat himself. I didn't even know what he'd done to contribute to my death. But what was certain was that he was connected to my death. At minimum, he'd wanted my death—even just a little, even just a speck.

If I lose my wife by any chance, you'll become my mistress completely—you said so yourself.

"...Are you unwell?"

"No."

Rather, it was this beautiful prince before me who'd always seemed slightly unwell. Teaching me like doing a job while harboring both fury and sorrow, simultaneously monitoring me.

When Rhodness, who'd been creating that strange atmosphere until just now, asked as if reading my mind, I shook my head hastily. I must have failed to control my expression briefly. I forced my drooping mouth corners upward.

I'd thought I'd grown numb, forgotten that pain—filled only with thoughts of killing and revenge. But memories and happiness from those years spent together kept surging up, striking my heart thousands of times a day.

"...Why am I such a fool?"

"......"

I swallowed bitter tears and lamented to Rhodness, who seemed likely to say something even more bitter.

"...For a fool, your Ellaconian has improved considerably."

But Rhodness didn't scold me. Instead, he regained his composure and held out the half-correct dictation test to me. Where he could have slashed through mistakes, he'd drawn pretty stars instead. Marks he'd once explained meant not wrong, but try again. How gentle.

"...I'm curious about something."

"Please speak."

He answered politely, contrasting with his rigid expression. By now I knew well that wasn't true politeness. Bliea Acacia confused him too. I exhaled lowly and opened my mouth.

"Why don't you ask me?"

"...Ask what?"

"How I came to resemble Her Grace the Grand Duchess so much. How I met the Grand Duke. What I'll do after divorcing with Your Highness's help—things like that."

"......"

For a moment, Rhodness's eyes rippled like water, then he stayed frozen for a while before letting out a small laugh. Midday, yet his smile shattered like stars.

"What meaning would that have?"

He seemed to answer me yet muttered as if to himself.

"You are not Adrienne, madam."

He said so while gazing at me intently, observantly. His red eyes—quietly burning since we'd met—looked like solidified boiling lava.

"...Why do you like Adrienne?"

Whenever Adrienne was mentioned, cracks appeared in this ice wall of a man's perfect, arrogant face.

"...Must there be a reason?"

He froze as if forgetting I'd even called her name, then muttered blankly. Even her husband cared more about Bliea's feelings than me after I'd died. But this person—why? Too curious about this prince's heart, even more foolish than mine, I continued speaking.

"If I had to find one? Adrienne was someone who couldn't do anything. She didn't even graduate from the academy she barely entered. Using poor health as an excuse, she just lay at home wasting medicine..."

"...She has no reason to receive such treatment from you."

"They said she couldn't do anything alone. Eating, drinking tea—even just standing, she couldn't manage without leaning on something."

"...That's enough for today's lesson."

Rhodness's face, rigid all along, now looked genuinely angry. What was Adrienne to him? Adrienne didn't even know of his existence, yet he reacted as if he'd been insulted.

"I have no desire to associate with someone spouting such nonsense, but..."

"...!"

"Nevertheless, I must say one thing."

Thick veins bulged in his throat as if he'd barely swallowed his anger. His eerily cold, chilling voice shot into me like arrows.

"Adrienne is more lovely, wise, thoughtful, and courageous than anyone."

"...You're mistaken."

"No. I'm right."

How could he be so certain when he knew nothing? Things no one had ever told me. Perhaps it was a final courtesy toward the deceased.

"If you don't agree, I'll no longer continue lessons—or anything else with you."

"...What?"

I widened my eyes in shock. Rhodness's perfectly sculpted face held no mercy.

"I cannot be with someone who insults Adrienne."

"......"

Ridiculous. Anyone I asked would agree with me wholeheartedly. What I said wasn't personal opinion—it was fact. Fact I could vouch for as the person herself, the truest fact possible.

"Take back what you just said."

That beautiful face—which occasionally showed longing light—froze shut without a single gap. I was clearly fighting with this person. Should be snapping back, but I couldn't. I'd only stated facts—about someone already dead—

"...Won't you?"

A rarely authoritative voice. Eyes blazing sharp belonged to one who ruled.

An overwhelming presence demanding complete submission from prey he could swallow in one bite.

"...I will."

But rather than frightened, my nose tingled somehow, and I touched it with trembling hands. If I didn't, tears might fall. This man—a beast who'd temporarily hidden his claws—thought of Adrienne, already gone, rather than Bliea before him. Adrienne he'd never possessed even once. Adrienne he could never possess for all eternity.

"...I will. I take it back."

And simultaneously, my heart kept growing strange. His words—that he couldn't attend even his own brother's birthday celebration because seeing Adrienne and Novian together would be too painful—kept gnawing inside my chest. The voice telling me Adrienne would be sad seeing Bliea and Novian together was cold, yet more than any words, it was what I'd most wanted to hear. When that gnawing feeling swept through my entire body, words came tumbling out without passing through thought first.

"I'll take it back, so... then will Your Highness go to the celebration with me?"

Though I'd planned to say this before even meeting him, the flutter in my heart as I spoke those words—that was never part of any plan.