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Chapter 29
Ian absentmindedly muttered the thought that immediately came to him when he saw Betty paying attention to Vivian Charte.
“One thing the Charte princess said is true.”
It was undeniable to anyone that Betty was kind.
Unlike just moments ago when she had been intensely serious, now her eyes were wide with curiosity, and it was clear she wondered what the princess had said.
Ian, realizing he had spoken aloud what he had meant only internally, subtly turned his head. Then he started heading toward the place where the carriage had been prepared in advance.
Even after boarding the carriage, Betty remained distracted, clearly curious about the conversation that had taken place about her.
“Wipe it off.”
Ian handed her a handkerchief dampened with water that Cain had given him just before they got on the carriage.
“…Is my face that awful to look at?”
“Marchioness Prowell will be very shocked.”
Since they couldn’t move the severely injured Marquis to the mansion, the Marchioness, hearing only the news, would already be alarmed.
Perhaps thinking the same, Betty rubbed her face and hands excessively hard, trying to remove the bloodstains somehow.
“Not like that.”
He feared she might scratch her face with such careless rubbing. Watching Betty struggle, Ian reached out his hand again.
“I’ll take care of your face.”
Taking the handkerchief Betty hesitantly returned, Ian carefully wiped the blood off her cheeks.
She looks so small and delicate, yet she has such courage.
The more he looked at her small, pale face and finely detailed features, the more delicate and fragile she appeared.
Even touching her so gently felt almost too delicate.
Their eyes met for a brief moment due to the close proximity. Ian found himself curious about the thoughts and emotions behind those clear brown eyes.
“Weren’t you scared?”
For someone like him, it would have been nothing, but it certainly wasn’t the same for Betty.
It was remarkable that she hadn’t panicked, fled, or frozen on the spot but had instead immediately sought someone to help.
“Anyone would have done the same.”
“If everyone thought that way, the world’s problems would be easily solved.”
Rubbing his brows, he thought of the nobles who always quarreled over trivial matters during meetings.
Then he noticed Betty’s expression darken again and reconsidered his own words.
Damn…
He realized his words might have sounded unrealistically comforting, almost as if he were scolding her for being too naive.
“I meant that you’re better than most people I’ve met.”
“That’s not true. I just… knowing that the Marchioness is a good person who truly cares for the Marquis, it feels like it’s not just someone else’s matter, so that’s why I acted that way.”
If someone like her had existed during Ian’s childhood, perhaps his life would have been a little less bitter. He had lived nearly half his life feeling that his very existence was completely denied.
Sometimes it felt unfair that wanting even a shred of unbiased kindness from others was considered such a huge desire.
“If my comment just now was rude, I apologize. I didn’t mean to oppose Your Highness’ opinion…”
Perhaps misinterpreting Ian’s silence as displeasure, Betty bit her lips nervously and hurriedly continued speaking.
Ian interrupted, speaking firmly to convey his intent.
“You don’t need to apologize to me every time.”
“I only speak up because I feel like I’m answering back to Your Highness.”
“I talk freely with His Majesty in private too. I won’t take issue, so you can speak your mind comfortably.”
Betty’s tense shoulders seemed to relax slightly.
“Even though my opinion isn’t worth much?”
“That’s for me to decide, not you. I don’t mind hearing your thoughts.”
Or rather, the truth was he wanted to hear them. Ian had to admit he liked Betty’s straightforward honesty—and that made dealing with her feel comfortable too.
“The Marchioness said something similar. Sometimes she envies my perspective on the world.”
Ian watched Betty, who gave him a faint smile, for a while, then shifted slightly and continued more seriously.
“The Prowell family is like family to me too, so I owe you as well.”
Betty blinked, then returned his smile in the way Ian was now becoming familiar with.
“Since I was helped first through your sending the attending physician, we can consider the debt settled.”
“That wasn’t done as a matter of debt.”
“Same here.”
The conversation ultimately returned to its starting point. Betty hesitated, wondering if she should even say such things, but eventually added,
“Your Highness truly is a good person.”
He wasn’t an extraordinary man. His current position was simply the result of struggling to survive.
Yet Betty’s genuine attitude brought him comfort, so he didn’t bother contradicting her.
As silence settled, Ian quietly observed Betty, realizing that unlike his own calmness, she was far from composed.
Her wandering hands, unlike her peaceful tone in conversation, gripped her knees tightly, showing her tension.
“Are you alright?”
Blood was familiar to him, but not to her. Seeing the sight in front of her, covered in blood, she couldn’t possibly feel fine.
“I’m fine.”
Betty’s casual response hid the turmoil inside. Ian realized he hadn’t considered her mental state at all and was suddenly overcome with mild guilt.
“You don’t have to be fine.”
So Ian rephrased his words: it was natural that she wasn’t fine, and it was okay.
Betty, who had kept her lips tightly shut, lowered her head and took a deep breath.
After that, the carriage fell into complete silence.
There were still questions to ask and conversations to continue, but Betty only realized as they reached the mansion that Ian had been looking out for her overwhelmed state.
“Oh… my goodness. Why do things like this always happen to me? If I even lose Edward…”
“You’ll be alright, grandmother. Everything will be fine. Father is a strong man.”
Arriving at the Prowell mansion, Betty had washed her face and hands completely clean.
She saw the Marchioness Prowell, almost fainting, and the Empress beside her, holding her hands tightly.
“Janine. It’s all my fault. I’ve sinned. An unforgivable sin is coming back to me. When your grandfather got angry at your uncle being expelled, I should have stopped it desperately.”
“No. Don’t think like that. Your uncle fought with grandfather and left the mansion without giving you a chance to intervene, and never returned.”
“But if I hadn’t, how could young Eric have left, and Edward have faced a crisis like today?”
“Eric…”
Even the Empress, comforting the grandmother, choked on that name and could not continue.
Standing at the doorway of the parlor, Betty considered finding the Duke, who had vanished somewhere, instead of interfering in the tense atmosphere.
I shouldn’t just stand around; I should do something…
But going to Ian without reason would only disturb him.
Betty considered what she could do and decided to prepare tea.
Though it was late at night and the mansion was quiet, the overall atmosphere was uneasy.
She intentionally went to the kitchen, requested warm tea, carried the tray back, and returned to the parlor, where the conversation had stopped, leaving only occasional sobbing.
As she entered, the Empress and Janine greeted her first.
“Betty. You’re here.”
“Yes. I brought tea that helps calm the mind.”
Betty quietly turned her head and wiped away tears while observing the exhausted Marchioness, who looked far more worn out than usual.
