RAMHM Chapter 55

I Won't Regret This—I Won't Back Down

"Why aren't you saying anything?"

"I'm wondering if I heard you correctly."

The Emperor opened his eyes to slits, suspicion written in every line of his face. He watched—with what patience he could muster—as Rhodness, who had been sitting before him with legs crossed and foot tapping in that brazenly casual way, slowly fastened the two buttons left undone on his shirt, then properly tied the cravat he'd shoved carelessly into his pocket.

"If you'd seen me two days ago, I would've looked somewhat more presentable."

Catching a hint of displeasure in that gaze, Rhodness smirked and offered his excuse first.

"The meeting with the Ellaconian delegation ran long. If I'd known you'd made this decision, I would have granted you an audience even late at night."

The Emperor finally uncrossed his own long legs and regarded his son, who now sat in proper posture. The scoundrel son who'd burst in before sunrise had opened with this:

'I'll find your mistress for you, Father.'

The sentence stripped of all the more refined words like "the disappearance of Baroness Kuroseida." The Emperor's mind, foggy from the too-early morning, had snapped awake instantly.

"So you're finally trying to understand your father."

"You're mistaken."

The face that had been pretending at leisure turned cold immediately. The Emperor shut his mouth at once. The son who had always been so upright and affectionate in childhood had begun, at some point, to slowly deteriorate. Strangely rebellious, wandering, and even when the most outrageous scandals circulated about him, he never offered a single explanation—instead, as if in protest, he'd doubled down.

Such a son would never help simply because his father asked. And yet, seeing him summoned first thing in the morning and offering to find the mistress—well, for all his twisted behavior, it seemed his heart had changed after all.

Those who'd handled the case had failed repeatedly, one after another demoted for their troubles. Worse, what had begun as a secret investigation had spread until every noble in the capital knew of his affair with Baroness Kuroseida. A secret whispered among those in the know had become common knowledge. Someone trustworthy—someone from the imperial family—needed to take charge.

"However. I have a condition."

"...A condition?"

The Crown Prince couldn't involve himself in such matters, and Novian the strategist was in mourning, while the Ninth Prince Ephero was in Ellacon—and considering his mother was the current Empress, even if he found the Baroness, he might try to kill her on the spot.

The Emperor, who still held clear memories of Rhodness's childhood sunny warmth, inwardly trusted him despite appearances—he'd earned proper recognition for his achievements rolling through battlefields, even if he seemed like a wastrel otherwise.

"I've been rolling through battlefields for over two years. I need rest, and I should get married like everyone else does."

"...!"

"There's someone I want to be with."

The Emperor lost his words for a moment, staring intently at Rhodness's face. Words very similar to these—Rhodness had said them once before, two years ago.

'In exchange for subduing the demonic beasts, let me marry before my older brother.'

'Ha! Boy. No matter what, how could you possibly marry before your brother?'

'There's a young lady I have my heart set on. One of the ladies Father is considering as Crown Princess candidates.'

'Surely you don't mean Doris Castagna?'

'I want to be with Adrienne Pirreta.'

'!'

'My brother has given his permission. Haven't you?'

The boy who'd knelt in earnest longing vanished like a mirage, and in his place stood a strapping man smiling coldly. After the woman he'd desired married another man, this son had never once returned to the capital—and secret reports had come that he seemed to have fallen into despair at her death. But remembering how he'd failed to actively help back then, the Emperor had given him time to stand on his own. And now suddenly he was talking about marriage...

"If there's a young lady you've set your heart on—"

"Not a young lady. A wife."

"Roan!"

"I suppose blood will tell."

Good God. With those words alone, the Emperor could add nothing more. The sensual lips that had at least been pretending to smile no longer moved at all.

"Come to think of it, your mistake was correct after all, Father. Because I understand you far too well, it seems my obsession has flared up."

The word 'obsession' from Rhodness's mouth crumpled the Emperor's thoughts. Those red eyes, shining even more brilliantly in the morning light, pierced straight through him, and his mouth went immediately dry.

"...Tell me who she is."

"You'll find out. I have no intention of hiding it. And..."

The tall figure rose from where he'd been sitting at that crooked angle. The Emperor lifted his gaze, following the shadow that stretched long before him. Rhodness's expression, caught in shallow shadow, could have been sorrow or joy—impossible to distinguish—but,

"This time, I don't want to let her go for any excuse whatsoever."

That low, sinking voice made it abundantly clear he wasn't helping his father out of goodwill.

Rhodness left the Emperor's office without a backward glance and leaned immediately against the door. The fatigue that had been building in layers exploded like a bombshell.

Since confirming that Adrienne's soul hadn't died, he'd managed to sleep—barely—but even then he'd jolt awake and race to his office to check the cookie package in his drawer, unable to sleep again otherwise. The cookies he couldn't bring himself to eat sat behind their pretty wrapping paper, hiding their precarious state, offering what comfort they could. Even now, the feeling rose in him—unbearable unless he ran to his office this very instant.

"Oh my, Lord Rhodness?"

A surprised voice reached him, lost in thought. It was Doris. Rhodness straightened hastily from where he'd been leaning against the door.

"It's so wonderful to see you often these days."

Rhodness, who'd stepped away from the office door and walked toward Doris, inclined his head slightly. Exhaustion was evident on his face, but his eyes didn't have that slightly unhinged quality they'd carried these past few months. Doris smiled brightly and deliberately ran her hand through her hair.

"Father is inside. He seems quite busy these days, Your Highness."

"It's the finishing touches for the delegation's welcome ceremony. If it weren't for that, I'd always have time to spare. Which means I have plenty of time to talk with Lord Rhodness."

Rhodness heard Doris's subtle words through half-listening ears, his gaze following the hair she was stroking. Everywhere his gaze touched felt as if large, heated hands were caressing her, and Doris let out a low, helpless sound as she managed a smile.

"Since His Highness the Crown Prince is so indifferent, you wouldn't consider it rude of me to rely on his younger brother, Lord Rhodness, would you?"

Those numb red eyes were—passion or no—beautiful beyond measure.

"May I go now?"

The voice that asked without so much as a tilt of the head was level, but to Doris it felt low and sweet as warm water. Her expression had been rapturous, as if she'd submerged her ears in that water—then she realized his words were a subtle dismissal. Her heart grew urgent.

"Don't I seem... somewhat different?"

"I can't tell."

From his partially unbuttoned shirt came the intimate scent of lavender. Doris's expression, which had been drawn toward it, froze in an instant. With her hair dyed black and wearing one of Madame Leblais's dresses, Doris looked obviously different from before.

"I see."

Rhodness, who hadn't spared a glance at Doris's disappointed expression, merely nodded and tried to brush past. Doris, wanting to say anything at all, opened her mouth hastily toward him.

"Are you heading to the Acacia estate now?"

"...What do you mean?"

"Oh my, people were gossiping about a new lover—I suppose it was all empty rumor after all. Count Acacia passed away yesterday, and we've sent mourners from our side as well."

Ripples spread across that flawless face, carved like a statue. Doris's eyes widened as if encountering something unfamiliar, and she stood rooted in place, watching Rhodness disappear rapidly until he became a dot.

The sun that had seemed like it would never rise finally climbed outside the window. I couldn't bear even the thin rays of sunlight entering through the curtain gaps and drew them shut irritably.

It had been a night of Ellaconian words—difficult enough to make one despair—engraving themselves on my eyeballs only to fall away, over and over. My mouth, which hadn't had a single sip of water since the previous morning, was already bone-dry, as if any words I spoke would crack and crumble apart. Extreme exhaustion meant nothing entered my head, yet strangely my mind was far too clear.

I bolted upright at the sound of hoofbeats in the distance. Very close by, Neil's voice rumbled, then came the sound of the estate's iron gate opening roughly.

There seemed to be some altercation in the process—sounds of someone restraining someone else echoed in succession. Even in my dazed state, I hastily gathered everything I'd brought from the Count's safe into my arms.

Is it Jimskehr? Novian?

The sun had risen, yes, but it was still early enough that the telegraph office wouldn't have opened yet. If these items were discovered, everything I'd worked up the courage to do yesterday while trembling would be for nothing.

I sank down heavily and rolled back the round carpet under the tea table. Then, like a madwoman, I laid out the document envelope and Bliea's diary flat and covered them again with the carpet. And simultaneously—slam!—the office door burst open.

It was Rhodness, his eyes full of burst blood vessels. Behind his face—as if he'd woken from some terrible nightmare—I could see the shocked faces of the old butler, Marge, and Yona. Bang! Sensing my gaze turning back, Rhodness slammed the door shut and roughly pulled me into his arms where I'd been barely standing while gripping the chair.

"Rho—Rhodness...?"

"Don't say anything."

That very large body. That very warm temperature. That very sweet fragrance—it felt as if it was untangling the crumpled mess inside my head. Like someone lying down on an enormous bed, I let out the breath I'd been holding in Rhodness's solid embrace. He was gasping just the same.

Noticing my legs had no strength, Rhodness held me up firmly. When I slowly pushed against his chest, that ravaged face came into view. A face that seemed simultaneously burning and deeply sunken turned toward me.

"From now on, your guard won't be Neil—it'll be Vincento."

"What...?"

"I was going to fire that bastard eventually. How could he report such a situation..."

"I told him to, Rhodness."

"Your husband on paper is dead. That bastard Novian came here at night. You were so shocked you didn't eat anything all day, and also—"

"I think Novian killed the Count."

Rhodness, who'd been frantically listing off the information Neil must have babbled, stopped breathing. I ran my hand down his arms that had been holding me desperately, afraid to let go, and sank heavily into the chair I'd been leaning on. Rhodness gripped my two cold hands tightly, like someone afraid of falling.

"Yesterday, all day, I kept thinking. What if I kept using you to provoke Novian and—"

"Stop."

"What if Novian killed you too."

"Adrienne."

"He killed even the Count who was on his side so absurdly, so if something happened to you, to you—"

I finally understood, looking at Rhodness's face, what had been the source of the terror consuming me all yesterday. He killed even me, whom he claimed to love so much. He killed even the Count who'd shown him loyalty—what reason would there be not to kill Rhodness?

When the hypothesis I'd found too horrific even to consider had been temporarily buried, discovering Bliea's diary afterward had made every emotion burst open.

That was it—the reason my chest had been burning up and crumbling away all night long. I looked up at Rhodness, still gripping my hands tight. He looked down at me as if the words about to leave my mouth were the most terrifying thing in the world. Those wavering red eyes—desperate without reason.

"Just don't tell me to stay far away from you."

And he spoke first.

"That bastard can't kill me, Adrienne."

He knelt on one knee before me like someone soothing a crying child. Our clasped hands trembled faintly.

"I know exactly what you're afraid of. But if you think the weak side of me that only you see applies to other people—that's a miscalculation."

That very low, cool voice I'd rarely heard since revealing my identity became, ironically, an enormous comfort. Unlike his trembling hands, Rhodness's face was solid, and simultaneously, when the sunlight that had annoyed me just moments ago illuminated him, it was like facing a god no one could harm.

But he was wrong to assume I would bid him farewell. My body, which had been trembling with fear, became filled with a strange joy-trembling from the certainty he was giving me. I gripped his hands back tightly and pulled him closer to me.

That emotion—fear of the farewell he thought was coming from my mouth—flickered briefly in his eyes. He was wrong again.

"The fear that I should distance myself from you—that was me until yesterday, Rhoan."

"!"

Bliea's office, barely lit by seeping light.

"It seemed like Novian wanted me to run away from you, to regret not listening to him..."

I whispered quietly toward Rhodness, kneeling before me.

"I'm not going to regret this anymore, and I'm not going to back down."

Novian.

I'm sorry, but... I have no intention of giving up.

"I'm going all the way."

My face, smiling all twisted, probably wasn't very pretty. But Rhodness couldn't take his eyes from that face, and then he spoke.

"Go all the way. I'll be by your side."

And he gave me certainty to the very end. Just as Bliea Acacia had given me baseless certainty.