TMLOP 50

Chapter 50

 The Predator’s Instinct

Clifford’s words, of course, didn’t mean there was truly no other way.

What he meant was that if Beneluche stayed close to Lucalina, he would eventually use the power of the emperor to seize control over Senelia’s fate.

If that was the case… if she was going to be unhappy beside the emperor anyway—

Then wouldn’t it be better if there was at least a chance she could be happy by the side of someone who loved her?

A flicker of hope and desire flashed in Beneluche’s heart.

“Do you remember how you promised to grant me one wish—anything at all, except claiming the throne—if I returned victorious from war?”

Beneluche’s silver eyes gleamed with determination.

In the end, everything was going just as Clifford had intended.

And yet, strangely enough, Beneluche didn’t feel particularly upset in this moment.

“I brought a great victory, and fulfilled my end of the bargain.”

“Yes, I did vow that I would make whatever you wished come true—even by imperial decree, if necessary.”

When Clifford had sent Beneluche off to war, he had made that promise to assure him there would be no threat to his life afterward.

But ever since Beneluche returned from war, that promise had remained like a thorn in Clifford’s mouth.

If Beneluche made good use of it, Clifford would have no choice but to keep him alive, no matter what happened.

In other words, the promise was Beneluche’s greatest shield.

“I’d like you to grant that wish now, Your Majesty.”

And yet Beneluche was now ready—willing, even—to cast that shield aside.

No, to be honest, the thought even made him a little happy.

“Please issue an imperial decree to make Senelia Daphne my duchess.”

Because Beneluche had no choice—for Senelia’s sake, he had to forcibly keep her by his side.

The justification for the desire that lived deep inside him—

He had just found it. And now, he could wholly give in to that desire.

Yes, in this moment, it was almost exhilarating for Beneluche.

“If that’s your wish, my brother… I will grant it.”

Clifford smiled, immensely pleased.

And of course he would be.

With this, he had perfectly severed Beneluche’s ties to Lucalina and made him voluntarily surrender his only shield.

But Beneluche no longer cared about such things.

Because this time, his proposal would not—could not—fail.

Although he now had imperial approval for the marriage, Beneluche still wanted to win back Senelia’s heart.

If possible, a marriage built on mutual affection would make her far happier than one decreed by the emperor.

So he set off for the Daphne townhouse, bringing with him a collection of dresses and jewelry that better suited her tastes—unlike his previous failed attempt.

Her measurements, of course, were something he knew effortlessly.

But he didn’t even get to see her.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace. The young lady says she will not receive you.”

For the first time in his life, Beneluche was refused entry at the door.

He was stunned.

Sure, she had formally said goodbye the night before…

But to turn him away this resolutely the very next day?

That possibility hadn’t even crossed his mind.

That was Beneluche Afron’s arrogance.

He had always assumed that even if things went awry, he could eventually bring them back around by sheer will.

And unconsciously… he believed that so long as he didn’t give up, he could change Senelia’s mind again.

Because he was a predator—used to grasping whatever he desired without question.

“Then I’ll wait here until she comes out.”

Beneluche stood rooted to the spot, face grim.

The gatekeeper and head maid of the townhouse exchanged troubled looks.

After all, leaving the empire’s only duke and heir to the throne standing outside like this was no trivial matter.

In the end, they knew—this could not be resolved unless Senelia herself appeared.

The head maid bit her lip.

“…Please wait a moment. I’ll speak to the young lady again.”

She turned and hurried inside.

Leaving Beneluche waiting like this could tarnish Senelia’s reputation—or worse, anger the tyrant emperor.

She couldn’t allow that to happen to her mistress.

And eventually—whether due to the maid’s persuasion or simply the futility of resisting Beneluche’s stubbornness—Senelia came out.

“Greetings, Your Grace.”

“Selie.”

Beneluche’s eyes immediately locked onto her.

But his expression didn’t soften.

“Your Grace, I am grateful for your regard, but… I am not in a position to accept it. Please don’t call me by that name anymore.”

With a cold, formal tone, Senelia stripped him of even the affectionate nickname—as if to declare that they were now complete strangers.

She bowed low, more deferential than usual, as a lower noblewoman would before royalty.

It made her intention unmistakably clear.

“…Selie, about last night. I misspoke.”

Beneluche tried to calmly persuade her.

Now that he thought about it, telling her he would let her go and then returning the very next day around noon must have made her feel mocked.

He assumed her coldness stemmed from being hurt.

“Whatever you said, Your Grace, is no concern of mine.”

But Senelia left no room for negotiation.

There was no trace of warmth in her manner—only complete disconnection.

Beneluche grew increasingly anxious.

“I love you, Selie.”

He blurted it out, unable to hold back.

But he still expected her to respond with silent acceptance, as she always had before.

This time, too, he was wrong.

“I do not love you, Your Grace.”

Senelia denied her feelings for Beneluche for the first time.

Thud.

Something heavy crashed inside him.

“So please, go back.”

And with that, Senelia turned her back and disappeared into the townhouse before he could say another word.

She didn’t even spare a glance behind her.

Senelia had completely slipped through his grasp.

Beneluche was faced with a truth more brutal than anything before.

“…Miss, are you alright?”

The head maid asked cautiously.

Even after Senelia had returned indoors, Beneluche didn’t leave the front gate.

But she didn’t bother to look out at him.

It was the townhouse staff who fidgeted, unsure of what to do.

“Don’t worry about me. Just carry on with your work.”

Senelia replied calmly as she flipped a page of her book.

Beneluche coming here meant that the plan she had set in motion—using Clifford—had worked.

There was no need to panic.

Beneluche now understood that he could truly lose her.

The one who was desperate now wasn’t her—it was him.

And Senelia needed to become the perfect prey to make his desperation grow.

That was the only way Beneluche—who had lived his whole life as a predator—would crave her even more deeply.

“I don’t love you.”

That, too, had been calculated.

If Beneluche believed that he was marrying a woman who didn’t even love him…

Then no matter how fate pulled him toward Lucalina, he wouldn’t be able to go to her.

He must not.

Because then Beneluche would never again say such cruel things—like he would give Senelia up.

“…If you ever change your mind, just say the word. I’ll go and fetch His Grace right away.”

The head maid offered again, concerned.

But Senelia was resolute.

“I won’t. Get back to your duties.”

“…Yes, miss.”

With that, the head maid could only bow and leave the room.

That day, Beneluche never saw Senelia again—and returned to the Afron duchy alone.

Even after that, Beneluche continued to visit Senelia every single day.

But she never once agreed to see him.

“…You really don’t love me?”

Now, once again rejected, Beneluche sat alone in his office, completely unmoored.

The last time she had stayed at the duchy, Senelia had still brewed coffee the way he liked, even blended the tea leaves herself.

She had remembered every little thing about him.

How could she not love him?

Beneluche couldn’t accept it.

Finally, with clenched teeth, he muttered:

“…I’ll make sure I get your love, Selie.”

His eyes gleamed like a predator fixated on its prey.