RAMHM Chapter 82

Don't Abandon Me

Bliea's expression changed so dramatically that Gaspar stood there with his mouth working uselessly before coming to his senses.

"What do you mean by that?"

"When the Grand Duke gave gifts to the Grand Duchess, you always personally selected and sent them, didn't you?"

"How is that a sin!"

He cried out quietly, indignant. This had been his point of pride that he'd told this woman about many times.

"It was His Grace the Grand Duke's instruction, and Her Grace the Grand Duchess was happy every time she received the gifts!"

"She would have been. Like a fool."

Mockery spread across Bliea Acacia's red lips. It gave him chills somehow.

"What, what are you trying to do with me right now?"

Gaspar stammered, not understanding why Bliea was acting this way. Bliea, who'd been sitting on the floor glaring at him, slowly rose. Even while rising, Bliea's expression changed dozens of times. By the time she'd fully straightened, not a trace of that earlier pitifulness remained.

Like a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis—graceful and beautiful as any noblewoman—Bliea lifted her chin.

"Every time you gave gifts to the Grand Duchess, you wrote the notes in place of the Grand Duke."

"Other estates do that much too! Besides, His Grace was too busy to attend to household matters, and even that was His Grace's instruction! What's the problem?"

Gaspar defended himself rapidly, afraid of being caught up in Bliea's sophistry. He'd watched how many people this woman had put in difficult positions this way. The feeling that he needed to defend himself passionately came on strong.

"You mimicked someone else's handwriting when you sent them."

"His Grace the Grand Duke was educated at the Imperial Palace. The Imperial family learns the same script from the moment they first learn to write. I'm a butler the Crown Prince personally designated and sent to the Grand Duke. Naturally I've mastered that much as well!"

"No matter how much they learn the same script, each person's handwriting can't be completely identical. Didn't you find something strange too? Why His Grace would divide his handwriting into two styles when giving you instructions?"

Gaspar nearly dropped the candlestick he was holding in shock.

"How, how do you know that...?"

"If the Grand Duke loved the Grand Duchess so much, why didn't he write the letters himself?"

"Well, that's because he was terribly busy... and since they were already married, having someone else write letters was..."

His voice trembled miserably. He'd been too busy obeying the Grand Duke's orders to ever think it strange. Too puffed up with pride that he could peer into and participate in affairs of state to pay attention.

"All those countless notes and letters written to the Grand Duchess... the handwriting used in them. Didn't the Grand Duke show you a different script separately and tell you to master it exactly?"

Correct. Even without the certainty in the woman's voice, he himself knew best.

Grand Duke Novian Trovika, granted an estate upon his marriage. The Grand Duke's wedding had been an important event announcing the Trovika family's official establishment of a base in the capital—not their provincial lands—and the new beginning of the house.

And the first thing the Grand Duke gave him when he was put in charge of the capital estate was a crumpled letter. An order to make the handwriting in that letter his own. Thinking he was finally being given a secret mission, Gaspar had diligently practiced the script, but he'd been disgruntled that all he did with the newly learned handwriting was write love letters and gift notes—though he soon forgot about it with all the work.

"So... what? What does that matter? I handle far more matters related to the Grand Ducal house than you think. It's just one among many."

"Fool."

Bliea Acacia's red lips stretched long. The clearly mocking expression made Gaspar's anxiety grow.

"Do you know whose handwriting that was?"

"His, His Grace the Grand Duke's..."

"Prince Rhodness the Second."

Gaspar finally dropped the candlestick. The candlelight that had brightly illuminated the space between them vanished, and the surroundings quickly dimmed somewhat.

"It belongs to His Highness Prince Rhodness the Second."

That name alone made Gaspar's legs go weak. He remembered clearly what kind of humiliation Lord Raelon, the Grand Duke's aide-de-camp, had received from that Prince and in what state he'd returned. How Raelon had come back to the Grand Ducal Estate in panic, his pants disgracefully filthy, stammering incoherently right up until entering to report.

"If His Highness learns of this, what will become of you?"

Gaspar unconsciously stepped backward. If he'd crossed that Prince rumored to be trouble...

"My lady? Are you upstairs? His Highness has arrived."

Neil's voice from downstairs where he'd been guarding the estate reached them. Gaspar thought he knew which "Highness" Neil meant.

That mad Prince who'd unreasonably pitched a tent in front of this Grand Ducal Estate and ordered the servants investigated.

Staring intently into Gaspar's pale eyes, she answered Neil.

"...Show him in."

"My, my lady!"

"Remember well that your life depends not only on His Highness the Crown Prince, but also on me."

For a very brief moment, color returned to Gaspar's face. Just not telling Rhodness about it right away seemed to open his airways—he nodded his head up and down passionately.

"Yes, yes!"

"What's the butler doing in the middle of the night instead of greeting a guest?"

In that split second, Rhodness's voice wedged between them. Having climbed to the second-floor corridor without any sign, Rhodness's gaze turned toward Gaspar, who was restlessly fidgeting in an obviously suspicious manner.

"Answer."

"N-no, no, I was just..."

"I've never seen anyone who trails off their words turn out to be innocent."

When Rhodness's hand moved toward his sword hilt, Gaspar's already bulging eyes grew as if they'd pop out.

"I'll, I'll tell them to prepare a guest room if you're staying!"

Rhodness moved faster than Gaspar's attempt to retreat backwards. Without seeming to hurry much, Rhodness kicked Gaspar's shin with his military boot. Gaspar couldn't even make a sound—he had to slam his knees to the floor.

"I'll fix your ill manners of disappearing without greeting your master."

Rhodness pushed the kneeling Gaspar toward her. Lightly. With one foot.

"May, may I be dismissed? My lady?"

"Go."

Gaspar staggered away at a rapid pace. In the process, he also bent his back ninety degrees toward Rhodness. Only the two of them remained in the silent corridor.

They were quiet. Whine. Whine. Just then, a familiar sound cut through the silence.

"...Cowan?"

Cowan, apparently brought by Rhodness, was tied to the railing and whining pitifully at her, sending pleading looks.

With strange silence, the place Adrienne guided Rhodness to was the Grand Duchess's bedroom. She seemed unable to bear the silence and was giving him a tour of the Grand Ducal Estate.

Rhodness grew more anxious because he understood why she remained silent. The Grand Duchess's bedroom he entered—along with anxiety swelling like a snowball—was full of green. The massive canopied bed. Antique side tables and consoles. His gaze wandering among objects that looked almost new with barely any traces of use lingered particularly long on the bed.

"...In this vast Grand Ducal Estate, the only place I actually stayed was that one bed."

Without pointing with her fingertip, Rhodness could tell where Adrienne's words were directed. The bed he'd thought quite large felt small and suffocating when he considered it was the place Adrienne couldn't escape for nearly two years.

Simultaneously, anxiety that felt like it would burst his core rose to the tip of his throat, blocking his breath. His gaze, which had been tracing the bed as if to engrave it in his eyes for a long while, slowly moved to Adrienne. She was leaning against the window frame, watching Rhodness.

Whine! Whine-whine!

The leash for Cowan in his hand pulled taut, then slackened, over and over. Cowan seemed desperate to run to Adrienne and be embraced, jumping around like a mad dog. Rhodness gripped the frantic dog's leash tightly and mocked his own cowardice.

He'd left the Imperial Palace and immediately mounted his horse to race here. But the closer the Grand Ducal Estate came into view, the more cold sweat formed on his hands until he couldn't bear it. His chest, which had remained calm even before monsters, pounded madly.

He'd turned his steps and picked up Cowan, left at Count Acacia's estate, before coming to the Grand Ducal Estate. Because he remembered Adrienne smiling warmly and petting Cowan. Not so much because he wanted to see Adrienne's delighted face—but because only Adrienne's cold gaze came to mind, he'd brought the dog.

Rhodness thought himself no different from this dog that wanted to embrace Adrienne immediately, and finally tied the leash to the bedpost. Then, with his back to her for a long while, repeatedly inhaling and exhaling deeply, he quietly drew his sword.

"...Adrienne."

She didn't answer. Rhodness slowly turned around. Adrienne was watching him. He held up the drawn sword to the moonlight pouring from behind her. Novian Trovika's blood still remained on it. The light bouncing off the sword aimed toward Adrienne's eyes.

"It's the Grand Duke's blood."

"...Did you kill him?"

Unable to take his gaze from Adrienne's finally opened lips, Rhodness lowered his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"...Did you kill him?"

Rhodness had truly thrust his sword intending to kill Novian Trovika.

"Brother... His Highness the Crown Prince came and stopped me."

"......"

"The Grand Duke... it's true he deceived you, but he said it was my brother who urged him to do it."

"......"

"And my brother didn't deny it."

Rhodness spat out the words like a confession. Before his thoughts could even process what he was saying, the words poured out.

"Someday I'll go kill him again."

That resolution was sincere. Though thwarted by the Crown Prince throwing his body in the way, he intended to kill Novian Trovika someday. Even with his words continuing like excuses, Adrienne's eyes—which had asked if he'd killed Novian Trovika—remained calm.

"The Grand Duke said such things to you too."

Adrienne stared like that for a long while, looking only at the blood on Rhodness's sword. Rhodness felt even more anxious not understanding the meaning. I see. You said you wanted to kill him. But you didn't kill him. In the end everyone was in it together.

Are you the same? If such words came from Adrienne's mouth—wouldn't he suffocate? He truly thought so. If Adrienne said she wanted to stab him with this sword, he'd gladly offer it. But Adrienne's excessively calm eyes showed a devastated light for just a moment before fading.

In the suffocating silence, the only sound laid low was still Cowan's whining, wanting to run to Adrienne. Her gaze, which had been wandering through empty air, turned fully to him only after considerable time had passed.

"I'm going to investigate His Highness the Crown Prince now."

The answer she'd pondered for so long suddenly poured toward him.

"Even if you don't help me... I don't mind. He's your family, someone you love and want to protect, so I'll respect that."

Her face, briefly showing a confused light, was pale but calm. Rhodness quietly clenched his teeth and stared at her intensely, almost glaring.

"But now that I've come this far, I can't stop."

Meaning "everything" wasn't finished yet. Rhodness understood with his head every word she said.

But more than all the other important words, he despaired at "I don't mind even if you don't help me." Before Adrienne could continue, Rhodness took a large step toward her.

When the large man approached, her breath immediately caught.

"...Let me help."

At the sight of her flinching as he drew near, Rhodness's face gradually crumbled.

"As you said, my brother is my only full sibling my mother entrusted to me, the person I must protect."

One step, then another. The more Rhodness approached, the more she had to gasp inwardly—huff, huff. Her chest felt like it would burst.

"So I need to know even more."

Rhodness's voice trembled miserably. She quietly raised her head to look up at him, suddenly so close. The shadow darkly cast below his face trembled. He was the one who should be angry—she was the one touching his most precious person—yet he trembled more. She'd rather he resent her, beg her to please stop there. He had that right.

"Friend... even as friends, please."

But the words that came from his mouth were completely different from her expectations.

"Please, just don't abandon me."