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Chapter: 20
“Please grant me the honor of escorting a beautiful young lady.”
A prince with an angelic face extended his hand. His voice was polite, and his movements were gentle.
Yet, Natalie felt as if his eyes, looking at her, were saying something like, “I know your sins—how dare you not take my hand?”
Natalie glanced down at his large hand for a moment before turning her gaze to her mother.
The baroness, clutching her daughter’s arm as if it were a lifeline, looked utterly bewildered.
My expression probably looks much the same as Mother’s right now.
Natalie lightly patted her mother’s hand and slowly pulled away. She couldn’t let her frail mother witness anything more chaotic.
“Mother, I’m not feeling well. I’ll go back first. Please allow me.”
“But how can you go back alone without a guardian?”
Dorothy was engaged in conversation with a gentleman. The baroness couldn’t simply return to the hotel alone.
The prince subtly signaled to Catherine, who had stepped back. Catherine smiled gracefully and took a step forward.
“There are not many kind ladies at the Grand Batten who would care for a young lady feeling unwell.”
As she spoke, Catherine turned slightly and introduced a middle-aged lady.
“Mrs. Bate.”
The woman called Mrs. Bate gave a polite nod to the baroness and Natalie.
“…I don’t even know how to thank you for this kindness.”
Pushed forward, the baroness offered thanks to the company, then whispered to Natalie as if unsure what to do next.
“Um… is this really okay?”
Natalie thought to herself. Probably not.
“…Please tell Dorothy well.”
As she turned her back to her mother, her eyes met the gaze of the Count of Humperwood. He glared at her as if she were a wayward wife.
That lecherous look was enough to push Natalie toward the coffin Ian, the prince, had metaphorically opened for her.
Better to have a hand that would strike me quickly than a perverted one.
After writing a few risqué novels in the past, she refused to be treated the same way as a pervert.
With a shiver, Natalie spun around and, without meeting his eyes, took the prince’s hand. Instead, she focused on the moment their fingertips met.
His nickname is “Angel,” so surely he must be magnanimous and kind… He wouldn’t actually kill me, right?
A bit of naive hope flared inside her.
Thus, when she took his hand, she didn’t notice him flashing a sharp, terrifying smile. Had she seen it, she might have regretted not choosing the perverted hand instead.
With a steady grip, as if waiting for her, the prince enclosed her fingertips in his and began to lead her.
Holding the prince’s hand while leaving the ballroom felt almost like walking naked among the crowd.
Clatter.
Inside the shaking carriage, Ian stared at Natalie sitting across from him. They had met a few times before, but never this close.
I thought it would end with her helping at the trial… didn’t expect to see her again.
The carriage was dimly lit by the lanterns outside. Her expression wasn’t entirely visible, but it was clear she was frightened. Her breathing was unsteady, and her eyes remained fixed on the floor.
It wasn’t an unusual reaction. Usually, when standing before Ian, women either froze, fawned over him excessively, or were too scared to breathe properly.
She stands out… strangely.
She was amusing on rare occasions, but hardly someone with a striking presence. In fact, he had completely forgotten about her until he coincidentally ran into Roger Heaton at the White Tail Club.
Yet, now she was in front of him, and the baroness’s daughter had inadvertently overheard a secret she should never have known.
Following the scarlet figure scurrying away, Ian expected some amusing spectacle—and she did not disappoint.
The Count of Humperwood, known both as a respected critic and as someone rumored to have a moralistic streak, had grabbed her by the ankle. She, who had been desperately trying to escape, was now at the mercy of this lecher.
Ian had followed out of vague curiosity, but it wasn’t entertaining—in fact, it made him feel disgusted.
Seeing Natalie and Humperwood struggle in Charlotte’s garden gave him a rough picture of the scene.
The discomfort of being under the same sky as a lowly person was something Ian, often sensitive, frequently felt.
This time, disgust at Humperwood spurred him into action. He offered his escort, taking a noticeable step forward, uncharacteristically bold.
Ian’s eyes gleamed with curiosity like a boy encountering an unknown creature, while Natalie felt as if she were dying inside.
Now… what should I do?
He’d have to be kind, at least for now. Ian spoke slowly.
“Did I do something wrong?”
The sudden question made Natalie jump in her seat.
Ian’s brows furrowed slightly at her frantic reaction.
“…I suppose you didn’t fail to speak.”
He muttered as if disappointed.
“Th-thank you for your help, Your Highness.”
“You’re welcome.”
Only then did Natalie realize she hadn’t formally been introduced to the ‘probably kind’ prince.
“Ah, I… I’m—”
“Yes, Miss Natalie Daws.”
…How does he know me? Could it have something to do with the sudden invitation? Am I… a candidate for that bizarre bride selection too?
It made sense that the prince knew her name and face. But the prince’s plan felt like some grand public deception. Natalie’s face contorted involuntarily.
The prince smiled gently as if to ease her panic, but it had little effect on her already-stricken nerves.
“You were walking very quickly.”
He didn’t seem to be genuinely trying to calm her; he went straight to the point.
“Tell me, how much did you overhear in the garden?”
“…I… I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Haha. We can’t waste time.”
The smile was cold and incongruous with his angelic face. Instinctively sensing danger, Natalie raised her eyes.
“…….”
He still looked beautiful, but in a completely different way—now she saw him clearly.
In the dim lantern light, his eyes appeared black and chilling. It wasn’t her imagination that his gaze had felt icy when he extended his hand earlier.
“You’ve heard everything, haven’t you?”
Generous? Kind? The ‘kind prince’ was a lie.
“Unfortunately.”
Now she noticed that only his tone and smile seemed gentle.
Overflowing self-confidence and undeniable poise—he seemed more arrogant than anyone she had ever seen.
He doesn’t look kind. Who called him an angel?
Natalie quickly lowered her head, feeling the weight of the situation. Perhaps she had anticipated this when Mrs. Bate, her temporary guardian, hadn’t boarded the carriage.
“Miss Daws, eavesdropping is a serious offense, and there are many ways to silence it. What would be the easiest?”
“I—really…”
“You are a writer; use your imagination.”
The prince even brought up David. He knew far too much about her. Natalie’s anxiety sharpened.
“By the way, my advisors and the princess are scarier than I am.”
“I-I didn’t do anything…”
“Consider yourself lucky that I caught you.”
Lucky? Today had already become one of the worst days of her life when the Count of Humperwood recognized her. And now the prince called it luck.
“Miss Daws, I am merciful. I will give you a choice.”
“A choice?”
Natalie glanced up, involuntarily hopeful.
“Yes. Two options.”
Meeting his eyes again, the prince smiled gently, appearing almost tender.
“You can either be eliminated the moment you step off this carriage, or you can marry me.”
“…What?”
Natalie grimaced at the words and asked again.
“What can I do about the fact that you overheard everything?”
He didn’t scold her for disobedience. Instead, he spoke warmly, implying it wasn’t his fault she had heard his secrets.
“I personally recommend living as my wife for a year, then becoming a divorcee. As you probably heard, my dream is to be a divorced man.”
The prince grinned cheerfully.
“…Please spare me.”
“Of course, I want to spare you.”
A flicker of hope appeared in Natalie’s eyes.
But the prince had no intention of fulfilling it.
“However… since you overheard everything, there’s no other way.”
He sighed softly, as if truly helpless.
“But I really…”
“I do not wish for unnecessary sacrifices. With your background, you’d make an excellent bride. And I don’t need to explain this plan twice, so it’s efficient.”
Natalie felt a little indignant. How much could she possibly have overheard?
“Upon reflection, there is no other woman suitable as my bride but you. What do you think?”
A poor girl mistreated by her stepmother marrying a prince is pure fantasy.
In reality, noble daughters couldn’t marry princes. At least for the next half-century, social class barriers were firmly in place.
So his words were not a sweet confession.
He’s saying we’ll wallow in the mud together.
Natalie shook her head pitifully, but it meant nothing to the relentless prince.
“There is no man as fitting as I am for you.”
He seemed absurdly proud of proposing divorce as if it were a great honor.
“One year as my wife is enough to accomplish many things.”
At that moment, moonlight filtered through the carriage window, partially illuminating the prince’s face. His blue eyes sparkled clearly.
“For example…”
Natalie braced herself for something impossible to handle coming from his mouth.
“Your family’s reputation and yours, ruined by your scandalous writing.”
Of course. Natalie held her breath, feeling pierced.
“A ruined reputation is difficult to restore. But…”
The prince didn’t stop.
“If you become my wife, I can at least open a path for my stubborn younger brother’s marriage, thanks to you.”
Natalie exhaled softly. Dorothy’s crying face, yelling at her, flashed across her mind.
If only she could turn back time and live her life again. She had imagined it hundreds of times.
But fairy godmothers do not exist, and time kept flowing.
The prince spoke as if he could perform miracles only a fairy godmother could grant.
“Doing nothing changes nothing. But you…”
I should have done nothing. Bianca’s voice is a curse.
“You seem to want to improve, even slightly.”
Perhaps it was because she had cowered without action for three years. Even now, she could do nothing.
“We could be of help to each other, Miss Daws.”
She had first met him when she was at her most ashamed and miserable.
