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Chapter 41
Roben clicked his tongue openly.
“Do you really think your life will improve if you marry some lowly knight? Nonsense! You’d be better off as someone’s second wife, living comfortably and being called Madam! How long do you think love lasts in the face of money?”
“……”
“You’ll understand me one day.”
Love was, in his mind, a far lighter emotion than people thought.
Money, on the other hand, was reality.
Having married Esha’s mother for money, Roben firmly believed he was right.
After successfully locking Esha away with the help of his knights, he gave them strict orders.
“Keep a close watch. Don’t let my daughter have any contact with that lowborn fool.”
“Yes, Count.”
At some point, Esha became unnaturally quiet. For a daughter who had screamed that she’d never marry the marquis, her sudden obedience seemed strange—
but Roben didn’t doubt it.
She’s quiet because she knows she’s trapped now.
He sneered.
After all, she was his child. He assumed she was safely within the palm of his hand.
* * *
A week later—
Roben arrived at the luxurious restaurant where he was to meet the marquis.
He looked back to make sure Esha was following properly.
The girl beneath the bridal veil walked slowly behind him.
The restaurant’s interior was immaculate, and the entire second floor—the location of the meeting—had been cleared out.
Roben let out an admiring sigh.
As expected of a man of wealth.
It seemed the Marquis of Lebanon had rented out the entire place just to meet Esha.
“It’s an honor to meet you, my lord. I am—”
But the marquis barely listened to Roben’s introduction.
He wasn’t marrying Roben, after all, so there was no reason to endure the man’s chatter.
Instead, he pointed to Esha’s veil with his chin.
“I understand everything else, but what’s with that veil? Is there… some kind of problem?”
His tone suggested he suspected a deformity hidden beneath.
“W-What? Of course not!”
Roben hastily denied it.
“My daughter insisted on wearing it. Said she wanted to maintain her purity until she met you, my lord…”
“Hmm, is that so?”
Such modesty was rare in modern women. The marquis relaxed slightly.
“Still, I’d like to see her face… Would you mind if I took a look?”
Roben tensed.
He feared the face beneath the veil might be streaked with tears.
“Goodness, you worry too much… Why don’t you see for yourself?”
Thankfully, the voice that came from beneath the veil wasn’t choked or trembling.
Unfortunately—
it wasn’t Esha’s voice.
What the—?
Roben’s eyes widened just as—
“Oh my, what a surprise, my lord,”
—the woman lifted the veil.
The moment he saw that clear, composed face—
“Y-you…!”
Roben shot to his feet. That was a face he could never forget.
“I’m so glad you recovered your memories so quickly, Count. That’ll make things much smoother.”
Lora clasped her hands together, smiling sweetly—yet her eyes were cold.
“Doing the same thing twice gets tedious, doesn’t it? Time to speedrun this.”
She murmured something cryptic, then uncrossed her legs and gave a simple command.
“Get them.”
At once, imperial knights burst in from the hidden floors, surrounding the room.
They moved so swiftly that neither Roben nor the Marquis of Lebanon had time to react.
“You insane—!”
So this was a trap!
Only then did Roben realize why the restaurant had been empty—Lora had already taken full control of the place.
He tried to run. He didn’t care what had become of Esha; survival came first.
If he lived, he could scheme again later.
But he didn’t make it far.
The knights caught him easily, slamming him face-first onto the table. His arms twisted painfully behind his back until he gasped for breath.
The marquis, unable to comprehend what was happening, turned to Lora.
“What in the world is going on here?”
A guilty man by nature, he broke into a nervous sweat at the sight of imperial knights.
“Oh, nothing major. Just a family discussion we need to have.”
“What nonsense! I have no connection to you, woman!”
She ignored him completely, tilting her head with a cold smile.
“If you’d like to spend some quality time with me as well, my lord, could you wait a bit? There’s a bit of a queue right now.”
Her tone made it perfectly clear who the crazy one in this room was.
The marquis quickly realized what answer would best preserve his life.
“N-no, that won’t be necessary.”
“A shame,” she said cheerfully.
Wise choice.
I didn’t choose to capture Roben over the marquis because the marquis was somehow morally better.
If anything, his sins were worse.
He’d murdered his previous wife and covered it up with money.
But that wasn’t my concern.
“Marquis Lebanon?”
“Mikhail Levonont from the Imperial Audit Bureau. You’ll need to come with us.”
“Unhand me, you fools! Do you know who I am?”
His crimes would be handled by the Audit Bureau—that was their job, not mine.
Right now, solving Esha’s problem took priority.
About thirty minutes later, Roben, who had been pressed against the table all this time, finally lifted his head to glare at me.
“Even if you are the Crown Princess, you have no right to imprison me! Has the Empire’s law fallen so low?”
“You’re right,” I said calmly.
As unreasonable as his arranged marriage scheme was, technically it was a personal matter.
I had no authority to interfere on that basis alone.
That’s why I came with another reason.
“Since you seem curious, Count, your official charges are forgery of public documents. On top of that, you’ve been abusing your tax collection rights for personal gain. Those add up to quite a heavy sentence.”
Two years ago, Roben had tried to broker a similar marriage—a transaction bordering on human trafficking.
His excuse back then had been poverty. He’d wanted to sell his daughter to save the estate.
Ridiculous. The only real problem with the Marceline estate was that its lord was an idiot.
I had arranged for Esha to act as regent and transferred all family assets under her name.
It wasn’t just a verbal agreement—there was full legal documentation.
That meant Roben was legally forbidden to exercise authority as lord or to use family resources for any purpose—including arranging this marriage.
He never got Esha’s approval, after all.
Even if his memory had been erased, the documents stripping his title remained.
But Roben refused to reconcile with his daughter.
To him, Esha was property. The idea of needing her permission to act was unbearable.
So he took the easy route—
He forged her authorization papers.
“That money was mine! It should have been mine! You think a piece of paper can take that from me?”
“Well,” I said lightly, “you never contributed anything to that wealth, Count.”
Roben, the third son of a poor noble family, had been leagues beneath Esha’s mother from the start.
The estate, the title, the fortune—all had belonged to her.
Even after her death, it remained so.
Roben had only ever squandered wealth, never grown it.
The only reason the estate hadn’t gone bankrupt was because of Esha’s management.
I signaled the knights—it was pointless to waste more words.
“Let go of me, you insolent—! Where is Esha?! What is she doing while her father is treated like this?!”
Even as he thrashed, he suddenly started calling for his daughter.
“I’m afraid she won’t be coming,” I said coldly.
For once, I couldn’t keep my composure.
“Because my dear Esha is too kindhearted to personally punish such a cruel father.”
Two years ago, Esha could’ve stripped Roben of all rights and cast him out, yet she hadn’t.
Because he was her father.
That useless compassion, that lingering attachment, had led to this mess.
Of course, I knew—Esha’s kindness was also her greatest virtue.
When everyone else turned their backs on me, she alone had looked back, moved by empathy.
But at times like this, it was frustrating.
In critical moments, she let her heart sway her judgment.
That was why I hadn’t brought her here today.
Because if she saw him, she might pity him enough to forgive him again.
