YMPDKMA Chapter 28

At my resentment, Rupert hesitated very slightly.

"...I called for Tori. Why did you come?"

"A maid said Your Highness was looking for me, so I came!"

"Ah."

He nodded slightly, understanding.

"She's new, doesn't know Tori. I said 'the one who follows me around,' so she must've fetched you."

Clearly that maid's fault, but I'm the one about to die. I wiped away the timid tears trickling out and backed away awkwardly. Rupert scoffed like I was pathetic, making a deflating sound.

"Think that'll keep the bullet from hitting you?"

"Y-you'll shoot?"

"What else? Let you live?"

How casual, how cruel, delivered with an expression of inevitability. Rupert hardened his gaze like handling a tedious chore and swiftly loaded the rifle. Not a trace of regret on that cold face for killing a maid who'd served beside him for a year.

I fumbled for words.

"...Your Highness, I'm B-Bellua."

"I know. It's annoying."

"My father won't stay quiet."

"I'll insist it was an accident."

I recoiled at Rupert's indifferent answer. Crazy bastard.

"How does that make sense?"

"I only need to endure half a year anyway."

I couldn't understand his meaning and made a tearful face.

"Why, why, why kill me? I'm on your side! I won't tell!"

"I'm sick of hearing that. Told you I can't trust you how many times."

He clicked his tongue softly. Still, he probably wouldn't kill me mid-sentence, so despite my terror, I kept my mouth moving. Don't kill me, didn't a year together matter, I'm the Count of Bellua's legitimate daughter so there won't be no consequences. I rambled threat-like persuasions to this fearless boy.

"Besides, it's Your Highness's fault! I didn't find out on purpose!"

"You already knew."

"Wh-wh-what do you mean?"

"You seemed to know my identity. See? You're not even surprised I'm male."

"I was too surprised to be surprised."

I swallowed and buried my face in my hands. Would he really shoot? I felt like a rabbit caught in a hunter's trap. A maid doing chores said he wanted me, so I came to his bedroom. That morning's only mistake.

I even brought dumplings for you to eat, and you can do this to me!

Feeling like the entire year had become worthless, I picked up the fallen dumpling and threw it.

"Why throw the dumpling?"

As the round dumpling rolled to his feet, Rupert raised an eyebrow. In this moment, I wanted to kill him for caring about the dumpling. Was a dumpling more important than me, who'd looked after him diligently for a year?

"I'm about to die—what can't I do?"

"Who's killing you?"

"Th-then why did you pick up that rifle!"

"I'm deliberating. Shut your mouth."

Rupert lowered the muzzle he'd been aiming at me viciously. The dumpling squashed under his foot. I flinched, seeing my future in it.

"Figured it out?"

"What?"

"That I'm male."

He dragged the long rifle across the floor as he approached me. The scraping sound rang in my ears, oppressively loud. I racked my brain for how to escape this situation and barely managed to voice:

"I suspected... suspected, at least."

"Why?"

"I have good instincts."

"Instincts, my ass."

If he wouldn't believe me, why ask? As I twisted my face in frustration, Rupert bent at the waist to meet my eye level.

"Even I'm not confident I'll inherit the throne, but you seem certain. Otherwise there's no reason to stick by my side."

He spoke gently, almost soothingly, in a low voice. His lips smiled but his eyes didn't smile at all—the dissonance was tremendous.

When I flinched and tried to pull away, Rupert grabbed my nape and dragged me forward. So close our noses nearly touched, he glared into my wavering eyes.

"You might be useful, but I absolutely cannot trust you. Understand?"

The vivid green deepened for a moment. While clouds covered the sun, Rupert's face was submerged in deep shadow. Only his outline remained, that brooding face sharp as a blade. I adopted the docile, submissive attitude of a frightened sheep thrown before a wolf.

"You don't think I'm under the Imperial Consort's command. I really am on your side. And I'm a very beloved daughter. If I die, Father will certainly..."

"As I thought..."

Rupert cut me off, tilting his head crookedly. Rising slowly, he gripped the long rifle. I bit my tongue in horror. Had I misspoken?

"Killing you seems simplest."

Rupert closed his left eye and aimed at me. Would I die this futilely? If I died by Rupert's hand, Father would rebel against him even more than in the past—what then? Should I die obediently by Rupert's hand, or should I rush him and kill him? Should I run?

I fumbled for the protective artifact hidden in my clothes when the door burst open and Tori rushed in like an arrow, blocking the space between me and Rupert. Hugging me tightly to her side, she whipped her head around and glared fiercely at Rupert.

She'd been gentle to everyone but especially docile toward Rupert, so I gaped slightly in surprise that she was glaring at him. She must've instantly assessed the situation—Rupert's still-exposed upper body, me collapsed on the floor, the muzzle aimed at me—because she shook her head firmly.

"You can't!"

"Move."

"N-no, Your Highness! Please, I beg you. Lariette is my friend."

Hugging me as if I'd break, Tori gasped for breath and soon burst into tears. We'd built affection sticking together beside Rupert for a year, but I'd never thought we were close enough to boldly call each other 'friends,' so I felt a bit flustered. Apparently the effect of exchanging greetings in passing and Tori occasionally telling me old stories I didn't know was finally shining through. I was moved to tears.

"I said move."

Rupert bit his lip in a troubled expression. Tori shook her head, crying and wailing.

"N-no, you, hic, can't."

"N-noooo, Tori, urk."

"L-sob-Lariette, if, hic, you k-sob-kill her, wahhh, m-me, me first, hic."

Tori's words were so mixed with crying they were hard to understand, but I understood immediately. Rupert must have too—he laughed shortly as if dumbfounded. Kill her first if he wants to kill me! What a tearful friendship. I resented my terrible self for never considering Tori a friend until now. Killing such a kind child on her wedding night—Rupert really was the worst bastard in the world.

"T-Tori, hic, sob."

"D-don't, hic, c-cry, urk."

As Tori and I clung to each other sobbing, a raccoon crawled in from somewhere and wedged between us. This stupid beast didn't even recognize the crisis—just wanted to stick together since everyone else was stuck together.

Stupid raccoon. Servile raccoon. Sycophant-coon.

The raccoon still hated when I held it, but after I'd fed it for a year, it no longer made squealing sounds when it saw me. Why had I even fed this ugly beast? Resentment and tears gushed up at Rupert's behavior, treating my life like a fly's life.

"Hic, wahhh."

Once tears started, I couldn't stop them. Rupert looked down briefly at me and Tori crying messily with red faces, and the raccoon pressed close rolling its eyes, then spat an annoyed breath and lowered his rifle.

"Damn it. You're all too much."

He turned and carefully hung the long rifle back on the wall. He returned to me with unhesitating steps.

Won't kill me? Really won't kill me because Tori said not to? Rupert was unusually lenient toward Tori, but I still couldn't feel safe. He could kill even Tori, whom he'd looked after so carefully.

"Hic, urk, sob."

"I won't kill you. Stop crying."

"M-hic-me?"

I panted, short of breath, and sniffled.

"Hic, d-don't, sob, want to, hic, die, Your Highness."

"Shut up. Stop it."

"Sniff."

"I'm not killing you. You're too stupid—I can't even muster the will to kill you."

"I'm, hic, n-not, urk, stupid."

Instead of answering my protest, Rupert exhaled deeply. I wasn't usually prone to crying, but when I did cry, I squeezed out tears until exhaustion. My head had already cleared—I felt terribly embarrassed showing Rupert this crying mess, but the tears absolutely wouldn't stop.

Rupert glanced at me still sniffling while pouring tea, then threw the book he'd been holding with an irritated gesture. He hadn't even thrown it at me, but I stumbled backward, startled by the book hitting the wall and falling.

"Won't you stop?"

"S-hic-sorry, sniff, urk!"

Sniff.

After honking my nose—automatic with tears—into the handkerchief Tori handed me, I peeked at Rupert's mood and hid behind Tori. She was about my height and much skinnier, far smaller in build, but I found her quite reliable. As if answering my trust, Tori spread both arms wide with a determined expression, blocking the space between me and Rupert.