GMHYS 22

Chapter 22

Early in the morning, Crown Prince Frederick came to see me.

With the sunlight at his back, he looked down at me with an expression soaked in arrogance. I could see right through him—every thought he had. A despicable bastard.

“I heard of the unfortunate situation that befell the princess. However, even if you are a woman who will find it difficult to conceive, nothing changes. You will be my wife and, in the future, the Empress of Boswell.”

Not a single word of his made me grateful.

I wanted to command the carnivorous rabbit to bite him—leave marks from those large rabbit teeth all over that smug face of his. Come to think of it, Frederick did take great pride in his appearance.

I responded coldly.

“I see.”

There was nothing more to say. Frederick’s eyebrow twitched at my reply. Slowly, he raised the corners of his lips. Rising from his chair, he walked around the table toward me. Leaning down, he gripped my shoulder.

There wasn’t a hint of a smile left on his face as he blocked the light behind him.

“Why are you so calm?”
“……”
“What is this ‘Medici’ that makes you so stiff and defiant?”

Frederick seized my cheek. In the past, I smiled whenever I looked at Frederick—my future husband. Perhaps that title had clouded my judgment. My heart fluttered at the mere sight of him. That’s why I failed to see Frederick’s true nature.

His grip on my jaw began to ache.

“Even though you came here in such a state, I kindly said I’d make you Empress. Shouldn’t you bow your head and express your gratitude? And all you say is ‘I see’?”

His voice growled low, his nature bare and unrestrained—just like the day I caught sight of his letters with Eleanor. Perhaps I hadn’t known anything during our marriage simply because I’d chosen to blind myself.

“What makes you so confident? What are you relying on to act so difficult?”
“Let go.”

I pushed him away. If I didn’t, he would leave a bruise on my face. I didn’t care about his thoughts or emotions in the slightest. Frederick clenched his teeth.

“Princess.”

I shoved him even harder. Finally stepping back, he glared at me, brows furrowed. Frederick fiddled with his wrist before letting out an exaggerated sigh.

“Fine. So this method won’t break you.”

He shrugged.

“I don’t like complications.”

He said that often in the past.

“I already have enough troublesome matters. If people are troublesome too, what good are they?”

Back then, I hadn’t understood what he meant. Now I did. I hadn’t known that those words applied to me as well. Frederick wanted everything—including me—beneath his feet. But behind me stood the Medicis.

He wanted to crush me to place the Medici family under his heel.

Frederick’s intentions grew clearer. Why Eleanor, of all people? Why did he look at another woman when he had me?

Because she was easy.

A laugh broke from my lips. Frederick, hearing me laugh, laughed with me. He sighed softly.

“You have much to learn, Princess.”

He stepped away, and his expression hardened once more. After a brief glance in my direction, Frederick turned and left.

As I expected, a faint bruise had formed where he’d gripped my jaw. Frederick had reminded me once again of exactly what kind of man he was.

And I had no intention of ever forgetting.

Rumors spread throughout the imperial capital—rumors that the Emperor and Empress of Boswell had not met the Medici princess, even with the wedding just days away.

And that the Crown Prince himself treated her coldly.

To make matters worse, whispers claimed the Medici princess was incapable of bearing children.

That rumor reached Lucian’s ears. Lucian arrived in Xavier ahead of the wedding. His fleet was already at sea; one of the ships was sailing north to bring him and the Medici princess aboard.

Lucian looked toward the brightly lit imperial city. In a low voice, he murmured:

“The wedding is tomorrow morning, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”

Lucian let out a cold laugh. His frosty gaze fixed on the capital. Valek had been right. Valek had risked his own life—dragging others toward death with him. Valek had infected himself and then become a carrier of the contagion.

All because of his debts.

He had sunk into gambling without anyone realizing it. He sold his house—and eventually his family. When the debt grew too great to bear, he resorted to the unforgivable.

His betrayal dealt a devastating blow to the Navy.

They buried the incident deep—no one wanted a scandal. And since Valek died before revealing who had orchestrated it, they were left only with suspicion.

Lucian spoke crookedly.

“You’re certain about the men boarding this time?”
“Yes, Your Grace. No gambling, no drinking—oh, well, not entirely—but none are indebted. No signs of contact with the Crown Prince, either.”
“And you?”

Matteo stared at Lucian, offended.

“You don’t trust me?”
“I trust no one.”

Matteo composed himself. He had known Lucian too long to be hurt by such words.

“Don’t worry. I don’t gamble, and I have no troublesome family. You rescued me from the orphanage yourself.”

“Ah.”

Lucian let out a faint laugh. True enough. There was no reason to suspect Matteo. If there was anyone Lucian could trust until death, it was him.

“…What about the poison?”
“You’ll likely need to obtain it yourself. For some reason, every pirate has gone into hiding.”

Most likely because of Frederick.

Lucian grinned savagely. Tomorrow’s wedding would be quite entertaining.

Dawn was breaking, sunlight stretching slowly across the sky. Soon, maids would flood my room to transform me into today’s bride.

I had to leave before they arrived.

“Jane, Dixie.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Ready?”

Jane and Dixie nodded solemnly. I looked at them. The carnivorous rabbit once told me not to trust them. That, I would judge over time.

This journey would be the turning point of my life. In the confined world of ships and sea, hidden things always surfaced.

“Yes, Princess.”
“Good.”

The last thing to prepare was the carnivorous rabbit. I woke Larino and placed him in the bag.

“Yaaawn. Where are we going at this hour?”

I gently wiped the sleep crust from his eyes.

“It’s today, Lord Larino. We’re leaving.”
“Oh, finally!”
“You may not get meat for a while.”
“Y-you never said that!”
“Grilled fish tastes similar.”

Larino let out a silent scream. I closed the bag mercilessly and handed it to Jane.

Then, I left a letter for Eleanor on the table.

Today, the imperial palace of Boswell would be busy. It was the day of the Crown Prince—the next ruler of Boswell’s—wedding.

Countess Briana opened the princess’s bedroom door, excitement lighting her face. No matter how much they tried to tame the haughty, proud princess, she never softened.

But that would come with time.

For now, ensuring she appeared as the perfect bride was more important.

Countess Briana raised her voice.

“Why are you still asleep? Wake up at once, Your Highness! You must be the perfect bride!”

She turned toward the bed—and froze. The bedding was cold. The bed, empty.

Briana blinked.

“Your… Highness?”

Her voice trembled. She didn’t need to check the bathhouse or question the maids. She already knew.

Her gaze swept the room—

—and stopped on a single square sheet of paper.