RAMHM Chapter 58

I Lost

After chewing low curses between his teeth for a long while, Novian finally couldn't endure it and pressed his lips to Bliea's mouth. With rough hands, he grabbed the back of her head, pulled her onto his lap, and ravaged her mouth frantically. Bliea didn't resist as before.

But unlike her honey-flowing voice, she didn't respond ardently either. Novian, who had satisfied his greed like someone who'd wandered the desert for months, reflexively pulled back when he saw Bliea watching him with open eyes. Bliea's lips, moistened thoroughly by him, looked unbearably dissolute and seductive, yet her expression was nothing but ascetic—presenting a strange unfamiliarity.

"...May I think you've lost?"

Was her flushed face from enjoying the kiss, or from something else? He felt he'd go mad with curiosity about this woman's thoughts—something he'd never once considered before.

"Don't be mistaken."

At his reflexive answer, Bliea's eyes widened slightly in apparent surprise. Novian, who naturally recalled Adrienne from that face, scrunched his expression completely. The woman, without any resentment, descended from his lap. And before he could catch her, she went outside the carriage.

"...I heard your answer clearly."

The woman who shut the carriage door with a thud turned away without lingering and grew distant. For a moment, Novian felt the urge to rush out, grab both her arms, and shout. What exactly are you thinking in that tiny head of yours?

Kissing a woman who prattled about love, letting emotions take precedence over important business—it wasn't his way, yet it was an unfamiliar impulse. Enduring the sight of the departing woman was terribly, terribly difficult.

When Novian entered the Grand Ducal Estate, it was after confirming that Crown Prince Bardenaldo's escort was already standing guard at the estate entrance. He gripped the cravat he'd been about to loosen roughly and headed to the separate building.

The Crown Prince, who had been leisurely enjoying tea at a tea table that noblewomen would favor, raised one hand in friendly greeting the moment he saw him. Novian bowed his head once respectfully and naturally took a seat before him.

"Has the farewell ceremony ended?"

Bardenaldo smiled pleasantly and poured tea himself. Novian gestured with his eyes for butler Gaspar, who stood behind Bardenaldo, to leave, and focused on him.

"Epero's return may be hastened. Since the delegation came to the Empire after a long time and returned quite satisfied, there's a high probability they'll urge Epero to return home."

Bardenaldo held out an envelope that had been placed on the table. Novian quickly opened the envelope to check it, then scrunched his expression.

"Duke Castagna is quite angry that Uncle didn't attend the bill abolition conference."

"Even if I'd attended, he knows I wouldn't agree to that bill's abolition."

"Fighting and being defeated is different from not fighting at all."

Bardenaldo, who had been smiling bitterly, glanced at Novian's cold expression, then hesitated slightly before opening his mouth.

"Before Duke Castagna personally comes to bring Epero, it would be better to grant at least one of his demands, Uncle."

"Abolishing the bill isn't such a simple matter. Because the wife inheritance law existed, the late Empress Letina's mother—Your Highness's maternal grandmother—became Marchioness Winston, and that power became the foundation for Your Highness. If we abolish that bill now, would Marchioness Winston think well of it? She'll certainly think she's being discarded now that stability has been found."

The words pouring from Novian were a sufficiently predictable development, so the Crown Prince nodded silently.

"Moreover, conferences regarding bill abolition can only be held once a year, so Duke Castagna has already missed that opportunity."

"If Epero returns within this year, another bloodbath might erupt in the palace."

"The Duke is being unreasonable. Even so, we can't hold the conference again."

Novian quickly scanned the reception room, as if his ears weren't listening properly in the midst of it all.

"He recognizes that as well, so this time he's demanding something rather different."

"...What did he demand?"

"He wants someone he recommends placed in the Grand Duchess position—do you have any guesses?"

Hah. Novian threw down the envelope onto the table and soothed his insides with the cooled tea. Were there truly so many who had opened their mouths about the Grand Duchess position?

"The Grand Duchess's funeral hasn't even ended yet, and I'm in mourning. Wouldn't it be acceptable to think about it after it ends—can't we drag out the time?"

"That's not like you, Uncle."

The Crown Prince picked up a biscuit with his gloved hand and smiled broadly. As he moved his jaw to begin chewing the biscuit, Novian realized he'd misspoken. Can't we drag out the time? Not words that should come from Novian Trovika's mouth.

"Whom did he recommend?"

"Countess Bliea Acacia."

The air in the reception room froze coldly. At the name that came from the Crown Prince's mouth, he stiffened his body and rolled only his eyes to stare at him.

"The recently widowed wife of your vassal, I mean."

The day after the delegation farewell ceremony.

The Crown Princess's palace, which Madame Leblais had stirred up excitedly, was still hot with that fervor. Since the Madame had come personally to do the dress fittings and draping, Irene had attended to get her face stamped by her, and to recommend suitable jewels, Nora too had praised until her mouth ran dry each time a design was presented.

But the mood of Doris—the protagonist of this doll play—had remained low pressure throughout. She has a face full of things she wants to say to me, so I'd only waited for an opportunity to be alone with her.

Sending away Nora and Irene, who'd been together, was quite simple. Even if just a slight bit of sadness showed on the face of a widow who'd lost her husband only days ago, they'd vacate the space with dozens of assumptions. Especially Nora, who was thoroughly prepared after not receiving recognition for her merits at this delegation welcome ceremony—but the moment I reminded her I was a widow, her momentum deflated and her eyes shook intensely.

When the jewelry samples Nora had left behind, saying they'd look pretty attached to the dress, caught my eye, the words I'd heard from the Madame recently came to mind.

'From what I see, Her Highness the Crown Princess seems extremely interested in His Highness the Second Prince.'

'Why?'

'She always asks me about gossip among the capital's young ladies, but even when she pretends otherwise, questions about whether there are any ladies aiming to be Second Imperial Consort always follow.'

'She might be curious.'

'How naive! Madam. Why would Her Highness the Crown Princess imitate you?'

Indeed. Why would she imitate me? Deliberately.

After the scandal with Rhodness appeared very prominently in the gossip rags, the Madame's atelier had been visited sporadically by young ladies who brought those gossip rag clippings asking for similar arrangements. From high noble families that put on airs, people were even sent secretly with only measurements, requesting they be made exactly the same. While they were always migratory birds moving to follow whatever woman newly led the trends, why would an imperial crown princess of a nation deliberately imitate me?

Thoughts I'd pushed aside briefly began to clarify thanks to the Madame's words.

"I want to ask about the scandal with His Highness the Second Prince."

Even in this question from Doris.

"Are you disappointed in me?"

"......"

Doris's lingering gaze swept me up and down.

I smiled gloomily and lowered my eyes.

"Though His Highness the Second Prince did view me favorably, I cannot reciprocate his feelings."

"I heard some places are chattering about a commoner-born imperial consort emerging. Of course, since you're a noble now, such opinions are exaggerations."

"Since my husband has left this world, I can now tell Your Highness the truth."

I looked at Doris with a face as if tears might fall.

"Your Highness, regardless of the Grand Duchess position, I've had Grand Duke Trovika in my heart for a very long time. His Highness the Second Prince only shows favor because I resemble someone he knows."

The more I continued speaking, the more Doris's lips—which had been discontentedly drooping—gradually rose. Only then did I gain certainty. Doris not only had Rhodness in her heart but also knew that I was Rhodness's first love. Once I gained certainty, blathering on was easy.

"Even if the world's most desirable bridegroom wanted me, what use would it be if I couldn't be with the person I hold in my heart?"

Because Doris, who had feelings for Rhodness yet ultimately became Crown Princess, would empathize with such love prattling.

"I understand your concern about bringing shame to the imperial family, Your Highness. But for me, who now has nothing left, I had no choice but to do anything to stand beside His Grace the Grand Duke."

"Oh, dear."

Across Doris's face bloomed an affection that hadn't been there moments ago. Doris rose from her seat, sat gently beside me, wrapped her arm around my shoulders, and patted soothingly.

"Did you think I would turn away from you?"

I raised my head to look up at her, tears brimming in both eyes. Doris smiled warmly with a face as if viewing the world's most pitiful thing.

"You need a new husband, don't you, Madam?"

I forcibly pulled down my rising lips and nodded my head.

"Yes, I need one, Your Highness."

The lady-in-waiting Bliea—lacking awareness but good at her assigned work. A woman with such weak origins that she absolutely needs connections to aim for the Grand Duchess position. Someone who can remove the lingering attachment called Adrienne from beside Rhodness, someone who can be used and discarded regardless of how things turn out.

"I'll take care of it, so just wait, Madam."

That would be me now. But there was one very small hole in the board Doris had laid out.

"Thank you, Your Highness the Crown Princess."

I had absolutely no intention of being used by her.

Returning to the estate, I unfolded a letter that had been waiting for me. It was Novian's letter, written as if scrawled. That Doris had conversed secretly with Duke Castagna, and that the Duke had pressured the Crown Prince—I'd already heard through Irene. That the Crown Prince had sought out Novian and spoken about matters concerning me—I'd already heard through Marge.

Even the words "I lost" would be lies. Novian.

But it didn't matter. I couldn't suppress the laughter bursting forth and let it out loudly the moment I entered my office. Striding forward, I picked up and gripped tightly Bliea's diary spread open on the desk, then looked at the vanity mirror placed on the desk and asked:

"It turned out as you wanted."

Bliea was smiling.

"...What will you show me now?"

The woman who always blathered as she pleased, strangling me—she had not a single word for me, only smiling with bloodshot eyes.