RAMHM Chapter 74

Why Did You Kill Me?

I ignored the maids who hiccupped with sobs while dressing me. Once I'd deliberately put on Adrienne's dress and styled myself, even I could see it—I was simply Adrienne. The moment they finished, I dismissed everyone. Yona to Count Acacia's estate until morning. Marge to her family home.

When everyone stood dumbfounded at the sudden orders, I specifically assigned only Annie to guard Novian's bedroom. Annie followed, her face full of gratitude. Walking the empty corridor, I laughed like a madwoman.

I opened the Grand Duchess's bedroom door and looked down at the commotion outside. Watching Gregory and Bianca—who'd stamped and shouted right up until they were forcibly dragged into the annex—finally disappear inside made tears burst forth.

"Brother, I'm sorry, brother..."

I couldn't stop the names I'd been unable to speak aloud from tumbling out, even knowing my carefully reapplied makeup was smearing.

"I'm sorry, sister. I'm sorry..."

But tears weren't the only thing I couldn't stop.

After repeatedly experiencing cold grief and burning rage, Novian submerged himself in bathwater. Beneath the lukewarm water, he clenched his fist with hands much thinner than before.

The prince who'd protected Bliea as if he were her husband—those eyes couldn't possibly have been acting. With those eyes, he must have once looked at Adrienne, desired her. If his gaze at Bliea Acacia was that tender, what need to speak of Adrienne?

Simultaneously, recalling Bliea's face as she'd rested quietly in that embrace brought an indescribable despair coiling through his entire body. And for feeling such sensations, he had to writhe in thick self-loathing.

Bliea Acacia alone had to be entirely his. This vast Empire, the estate, even Adrienne—none had been entirely his, so the woman he'd transformed with his own hands couldn't fail to be his as well. What was she, after all? What on earth was she that he couldn't possess her?

Count Acacia was dead. Adrienne's funeral was over. The disloyal vassals he'd named had already broken with him as much as possible, and even the eastern people he'd barely held onto had completely turned their backs today. At first it had been for a greater cause, but somewhere along the way, priorities had reversed.

To obtain that insignificant, irritating woman called Bliea Acasia, he'd shouldered more risk than necessary. Yet to be unable to possess her completely was absurd.

He didn't believe in God, but he fervently agreed with the basic premise that action should yield results. Without such conviction, he wouldn't have come this far.

Just as he'd only been able to avoid spilling his own blood after staining his hands with it. Just as he'd had to bury his feelings for Adrienne with her corpse before the thought of completely possessing Bliea could dominate his entire being.

He roughly pulled on clothes over his barely dried body. The fabric stuck clammily to his damp skin. He thought even that sensation was foolish remnants of his attachment to Adrienne. Now there was truly nothing left.

Even if he handed the title of Crown Prince faction leader to someone else, if he could only pin Bliea Acasia beneath him, he felt capable of anything. The moment he dressed, he uncorked a bottle and poured it down his throat. The liquor burned, but he'd been drinking it long enough to be accustomed.

'Novian, why... did you betray me?'

He hadn't even entered Adrienne's bedroom yet, but that voice habitually tormented his head. Betrayal? Absurd.

How could it be betrayal when she'd never been his? He'd been the only one trapped in that terrible one-sided love for Adrienne. Who was living in agony whether she was alive or dead? Not dead Adrienne—himself.

Novian headed toward the Grand Duchess's bedroom with familiarity. He'd given Bliea the bedroom she'd so desired—he should take something in return. Walking quickly as if someone were chasing him, Novian opened the bedroom door without a moment's hesitation. And saw Bliea perched on the windowsill in devastatingly familiar attire.

...Bliea wearing Adrienne's clothes.

Staring endlessly in the direction Rhodness had departed—that image stabbed mercilessly into his eyes. Violent rage surged up. Had he ever been this angry about anything? It was such an unfamiliar fury.

Crash!

The bottle in his hand shattered sharply on the thick carpet. He'd thrown it that hard. He strode toward Bliea gazing out the window and seized her chin. The small chin fit easily in his grip.

When eyes that had desperately wanted to go to someone else transformed into resentful pupils turning toward him, he felt like the world was collapsing. And he was furious at feeling this way at all.

"I told you. Back then, I said it clearly."

He growled, gripping her chin more viciously as she tried to move her head.

"When I returned from Ellaconia and the Grand Duchess's funeral ended, I would take you."

Feeling Bliea flinch, he moved closer. Bliea, trapped firmly between the window and his body, couldn't even breathe as she looked up at him.

Those eyes. That gaze. They were damnably identical to Adrienne's, and it felt like shit. And simultaneously made him want to possess her so badly he could go mad.

"You think I gave you the Grand Duchess's bedroom because you're pretty? Because you did cute little tricks for me like a puppy?"

"......"

"Not a chance. You said if we made love, this bedroom would be good? That's why I gave it to you."

"......"

"You said it with your own mouth, so keep your promise. I kept mine, and I'm taking you. Right now."

He yanked her waist roughly—felt it trembling—but Novian didn't care. He grabbed the back of her head hard and crushed her lips. Damnably sweet. Damnably soft.

And the woman remained still as a wooden doll for a long time. Even when Novian embraced and groped her entire body to the breaking point, she didn't budge.

"...What, thinking of Rhodness? That ill-omened bastard?"

Bliea was crying. The blood boiling hot through him went ice-cold.

"I should have done this from the start. When those filthy rumors were circulating in the gossip rags about you and him, I should have just taken you then. I was too soft. Did you enjoy toying with me using the dead Grand Duchess as your shield?"

He exploded without filter at Bliea's face—expression unchanging, crying like a broken faucet—feeling like he'd go insane.

"You think Rhodness is different? He's a man who didn't come near the capital for years because he couldn't have Adrienne. Just because he's paying you some attention, don't be mistaken."

His voice, mixed with mockery, circled the bedroom at will.

"He's seeing Adrienne in you too, not seeing you."

He couldn't choose his words carefully—didn't want to.

"I'm different from that bastard. I won't solve everything just because someone like you cries a little. I'll just take you."

He couldn't understand when this woman had entered his heart and destroyed everything inside him. She was supposed to be just a substitute. But dressed in Adrienne's clothes like this, in Adrienne's bedroom, crying while thinking of Rhodness—no one else—he felt violent emotions he'd never experienced before threatening to explode through his entire body.

Bliea's lips—wet with his saliva—opened when his rage was approaching its limit. When he couldn't bear it without breaking something, when the target he wanted to destroy was the woman before his eyes, the source of all these filthy emotions spoke.

"Lord Rhodness wouldn't do this."

"...What?"

When Rhodness's name finally emerged from those lips, he gripped Bliea's shoulders hard. He wanted to shatter her.

"...I'm not attracted to Second Prince Rhodness for that reason."

"Shut. Up."

Tears kept flowing, yet her voice was excessively ominous. Novian's face twisted wretchedly. He couldn't believe he'd just heard such words. You said you loved me—that pathetic phrase rolled on his tongue, so he clamped his mouth shut.

The woman showed no intention of avoiding his bloodshot eyes, and her voice grew more ominous still.

"I like new things."

Novian thought the woman had gone mad.

"Send me to Lord Rhodness."

"How dare you—insolent..."

"Are you aggrieved, Your Grace?"

No more tears fell from the woman's eyes. Novian didn't want to hear any more of this madness—her mentioning Rhodness, asking to be sent to him. He thought he'd have to gag her to shut her up before taking her.

"There's nothing to be aggrieved about. You were a married man anyway."

Until the woman said that. This woman was definitely insane. Coveting a position beyond her station, then hitting greater opposition than expected.

Because Pirreta's people had slapped her cheeks, because Novian had roughly kissed her—he thought such things and released his grip on her shoulders.

"I like new things."

The woman's habitual phrase grated unbearably.

"Come to think of it, that's right. If we're dividing things up, Your Grace is 'used goods.' Lord Rhodness isn't."

"...Are you insane?"

"You seem to remember my words well, so I'm saying this."

"I told you to shut up."

"I always said it, didn't I? I like new things. I wish you'd remembered this too, not just about wanting to make love in the Grand Duchess's bedroom."

Novian burst into laughter right then. He was furious and amused at her cunning—trying to anger him by invoking Rhodness without knowing her place. But simultaneously, his chest went numb.

You were married anyway, so don't feel aggrieved. Send me to Lord Rhodness. If we're being precise, you're not new. You're used. I always said I liked new things, didn't I? Those words he'd simply told her to shut up about because they grated—they swirled inside his body.

The moment he realized all those words led to a single conclusion—

"...You'd leave me?"

"Yes."

The woman answered without hesitation. The rage swirling through his entire body vanished instantly. She claimed to love him, yet she'd acted that way throughout—which had made fury surge—but he didn't know what emotion to express toward a woman who'd decided to leave him.

He'd never imagined it. He backed away from Bliea. The woman didn't move, just stared at him. Her gaze remained ominous. It wasn't the face that had gazed only at him and whispered love, like Adrienne.

"What exactly is the problem, Bliea?"

Novian's face was flushed red. I watched that pathetic sight from where I sat bathed in moonlight pouring through the window. Reeking of alcohol, his usually neat appearance disheveled—this Novian.

Once unfamiliar, but I'd grown quite accustomed to him since becoming Bliea Acacia. I felt like I'd learned more about him in these two months of cohabitation than in two years of marriage. I laughed softly at the thought.

"Is this situation funny to you?"

"A little."

"...What?"

Novian—who'd been standing at a distance—slowly approached. He didn't come close. Exactly what I wanted.

"You wanted to become Grand Duchess."

"Not really."

"What?"

"Not really. I've lost interest in the Grand Duchess position."

The casual words. At my saying I no longer wanted the Grand Duchess position I'd desired so much, Novian looked at me like I'd kicked him in the back of the head.

"To make someone like you Grand Duchess, right now... how much..."

"Are you angry? You stole everything from me first."

"...I did?"

Novian now stood utterly still, looking me up and down. Wearing one of the dresses that had filled Adrienne's dressing room, my hair styled the way Adrienne had loved—I was simply black-haired Adrienne herself.

"...Tell me, Novian."

"What are you trying to do...?"

His voice drifting through the air sounded deeply unreal.

"Why did you betray me?"

"Betrayal? Who's the one betraying right now..."

Novian's face—answering habitually—cracked, his expression splitting apart as his pupils dilated instantly.

"Bliea?"

"...I must still look like Bliea to you."

I slowly lowered my feet from the windowsill to the floor.

"Bliea?"

I didn't answer.

"Bliea."

"You don't seem drugged. Then you should realize this isn't a hallucination either."

The fan Adrienne had treasured. The dress Adrienne had desperately wanted to wear. Adrienne's way of walking.

Novian's pupils contracted and dilated repeatedly.

"Tell me, Noah."

Noah. No one called Novian Trovika that. Only Adrienne Trovika whispered it. Noah. My beloved Noah. My sea. My everything.

"Why did you kill me?"

Novian's eyes—full of filthy desire—plummeted instantly into despair.