Chapter 10

The noisy energy of the ballroom faded somewhat in the quieter hallway outside.

Valoa silently followed behind Beatrice as she walked away.

Then, the moment she confirmed that the crowd had thinned enough for the two of them to be alone in the corridor, she suddenly cried out:

“Ah!”

And collapsed onto the floor.

Hearing the cry behind her, Beatrice turned around.

She hesitated for a moment before slowly approaching.

“Um… is something wrong?”

Just as expected.

Valoa’s lips curled slightly as she looked at the kind, innocent Beatrice she had anticipated.

To Valoa, Beatrice belonged to a certain type of person.

The type with no real power, no particular abilities, but overflowing kindness that made them easy to exploit.

‘Well, that’s good news for me.’

Suppressing a sneer, Valoa let out a weak groan.

“…My stomach…”

“Your stomach?”

“It hurts… really badly…”

“Oh… I see…”

“I don’t think I can walk by myself…”

Valoa pointed toward a nearby room.

“Could you help me get to the lounge over there?”

“Ah…”

As Beatrice looked back and forth between Valoa and the direction of the lounge, Valoa quietly studied her face.

Her soft platinum-blonde curls.

Her gentle pale-green eyes.

Her slightly rosy cheeks that made her look naïve.

‘She really looks exactly like her personality.’

Not in terms of beauty.

Her entire atmosphere matched.

Harmless. Gentle. Gullible.

While silently judging her, Valoa never once considered the possibility that Beatrice would refuse.

Unless Beatrice somehow knew who she was, people like this could never ignore someone in trouble.

‘Come on. Hurry up and agree.’

Valoa’s patience was beginning to wear thin.

Then an unexpected answer came.

“Um, I’m sorry. But… I actually need to go somewhere urgently.”

“…Urgently? More urgently than helping someone who’s in pain?”

“Well…”

Beatrice looked uncomfortable.

“Normally I would’ve helped, but I made plans to meet someone…”

“…”

“You can’t move, right? Then please stay here for a moment! I’ll call a servant on my way and ask them to help you immediately!”

…Plans?

Valoa narrowed her eyes beneath her mask.

Then she quickly began sorting through her memories.

Come to think of it…

She vaguely remembered overhearing something earlier.

“Sir Dalton brought her shawl all the way to the powder room? He’s every bit as gentlemanly as the rumors say!”

“I’ve heard those stories too. Honestly, he seems even more romantic than I expected.”

“Romantic?”

“I’m not completely sure because I only overheard part of it, but it sounded like he prepared some kind of special surprise for her. He kept reminding her not to miss their meeting.”

“A meeting?”

“At that old tree in the garden.”

“The one famous for confessions?”

“Exactly!”

Valoa’s gaze darkened.

‘So that’s why they separated?’

And more importantly…

‘This woman too.’

Beatrice.

The woman who would normally help someone in need.

Now she was refusing because she wanted to meet her beloved husband.

Crunch.

Valoa bit down hard.

‘What a wonderful love story.’

As Beatrice seated her on a nearby stool and turned to leave, Valoa continued watching her retreating figure.

Countless thoughts raced through her mind.

Should she cover Beatrice’s mouth and drag her into a room right now?

Should she send her prepared men to ambush her on the way to the garden?

Both options were tempting.

Opportunities to catch Beatrice alone were rare.

Yet…

‘No.’

Valoa slowly rose from her seat.

‘I want to see it myself.’

Once her mood soured, she became obsessed.

She wanted to see exactly how much worse this feeling could become.

‘Even during the brief moments they’re apart, they spend their time thinking about each other?’

‘Clyde Dalton?’

She had never seen such a side of him.

Never heard of it.

Never even imagined it.

What offended Valoa’s pride wasn’t necessarily his feelings.

It was the fact that there existed a side of Clyde she didn’t know.

Whether it was an emotion.

Or a secret.

Or something discovered through investigation.

There simply couldn’t be anything about Clyde Dalton that she didn’t know.

‘Because he belongs to me.’

It was a possessive and utterly insane thought.

But to Valoa, it was as natural as the sun rising in the morning.

‘And if there truly is a side of him I don’t know…’

As Beatrice disappeared from sight, Valoa stood.

She draped a robe over herself.

Then she slowly began following the same path Beatrice had taken.

Thinking about the excited expression Beatrice must have worn while hurrying to meet Clyde.

Thinking about Clyde waiting for her.

The thoughts were so irritating they almost became amusing.

Of course, if Beatrice had known what Valoa was thinking, she would’ve immediately yelled:

“Who are you calling excited?!”

Because contrary to Valoa’s fantasy, Beatrice was sprinting in absolute terror.

“Damn it! That crazy woman actually followed me! What kind of lunatic commits crimes over love? Is she insane? Or is this just what having power is like? Does Lady Valoa think life is that easy?!”

And she was practically screaming the entire way.

***

“Haa… haa… I made it… I’m here…”

Beatrice clutched her chest as she gasped for breath.

There was a reason people called crazy people crazy.

She had run all the way to the meeting spot without stopping, terrified that Valoa might suddenly grab her by the neck from behind.

While she leaned against the old tree, struggling to breathe, a water bottle suddenly appeared in front of her.

“…Wow. Look at that preparation. At this moment, I’ll admit you’re my lifesaver. Honestly, I suspected this might happen, but seeing it for real was terrifying!”

“…”

“I swear I could hear my heartbeat in my ears! Ugh, I’m dying.”

Naturally assuming it was Clyde, she accepted the bottle and began drinking.

Then—

“Someone who’s supposedly dying sure talks a lot.”

A familiar yet unfamiliar voice suddenly sounded beside her.

Not Clyde’s voice.

“Cough! Cough!”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t think I’d startle you that badly. Are you alright?”

“Cough! Y-Yes…”

After finally calming down, Beatrice wiped away the tears in her eyes caused by coughing and looked at the person before her.

“Huh?”

Her eyes widened.

“Your Highness Crowell?”

The Crown Prince laughed.

“You reacted exactly like Clyde.”

Then he nodded.

“Yes. It’s me.”

“What are you doing here?”

She sounded as though she’d unexpectedly run into a neighbor she hadn’t seen in months.

Honestly, it wasn’t entirely inaccurate.

Crowell’s mother, Empress Yvette, and Beatrice’s father, Jedaric, came from the same kingdom.

If one stretched the definition far enough, they were distant relatives.

Looking at her wide green eyes, Crowell shrugged.

“Clyde asked me for help.”

“…Help? With what?”

“Who knows?”

Crowell glanced at the old tree.

“He just told me to wait here. So far, the only thing I’ve accomplished is giving you water.”

Beatrice narrowed her eyes.

‘That bastard.’

Clyde looked like the type who relied solely on his face.

But in reality, he was annoyingly clever.

‘I don’t think he told me everything.’

He had repeatedly emphasized that she should stay close to him because there was no telling what Valoa might do.

This meeting spot had originally been meant as a fallback location.

A place where they could regroup if circumstances forced them apart.

Which meant…

‘If meeting me wasn’t the real purpose, then what exactly is he doing right now?’

She frowned while absentmindedly touching the recording brooch hidden on her clothes.

Then—

Crash!

Boom!

“…Huh?”

Something shattered.

A strange smell of burning filled the air.

Confused, Beatrice peeked around the old tree.

Then her mouth slowly fell open.

“Your Highness… th-that…!”

“I see.”

A small fire had just begun burning nearby.

And standing beside the flames were none other than:

Clyde Dalton.

And today’s most dangerous person…

Valoa Edvain Crawford.