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Chapter 30
And Eugénie Riville did not move. More precisely, her body was trembling so violently that she couldn’t move.
Alexis curved his lips into a smooth smile as he looked at the pale young lady convulsing in place.
“So now you even ignore the Crown Prince’s orders….”
The atmosphere grew even colder. Cecilia quickly grabbed her brother’s sleeve, but he seemed not to care at all.
“Well, someone with the nerve to insult a princess would naturally find the Crown Prince’s orders laughable.”
Get out now, you idiot!
If you leave now, you might at least survive!
Everyone shot wordless warnings at the foolish executioner-in-the-making with their eyes. But Eugénie Riville, unfortunately, was still completely out of it.
She couldn’t read their urging at all….
At last, the Crown Prince’s patience—strained for several minutes as he waited outside—snapped.
Seeing him shake off his sister’s hand and stroll inside, several people closed their eyes.
It was because they thought they heard the phantom sound of a guillotine blade dropping somewhere.
“Alex.”
And then came the princess’s voice, calling her younger brother.
Strangely enough, the princess seemed to be trying to stop the Crown Prince. Surely she couldn’t be unaware of the insult she herself had suffered.
People’s gazes instantly focused on Countess Kallia Oper’s daughter, and the princess’s chief maid frowned slightly, signaling that she had done her duty.
‘…Then why is she stopping him?’
The spectators once again craned their stiff necks to watch the siblings’ confrontation.
The princess’s pale hand clutched her brother’s sleeve desperately, pitifully, but the Crown Prince was unyielding. Without even glancing back at his clinging sister, he strode forward.
In the end, the princess, too, was almost forcibly dragged into the room with him.
The Crown Prince climbed onto the stage without hesitation and looked down at Eugénie Riville.
Overcome by fear, the woman began to hiccup. The sound, breaking the silence now and then, was noisy and pitiful.
Yet the Crown Prince neither sneered nor mocked her—he simply stared down at her.
With eyes the color of deathly violet.
With a chilling gaze that announced death itself.
Compared to this, Blanche Houston’s earlier rampage had been laughable.
The Crown Prince’s dry expression poured out naked killing intent, without even attempting to hide it.
Cold.
Like a merciless winter that freezes a weary soldier’s toes until they fall off. Like buds frozen to death so thoroughly that no flowers would bloom even when spring came….
It was a season without mercy.
“You.”
At last, a dry voice slipped from between his lips.
Even despair clung to the brittle tone, forcing those watching to hold their breath.
“Do you know…”
“….”
“…what you did?”
“….”
“Do you know, Riville?”
The loud hiccups continued. The young woman looked as though she might suffocate at any moment.
But the Crown Prince drove his contempt mercilessly into her face as it turned sickly pale.
“You were so bold when you mocked my sister, yet now you’re remarkably good at keeping your mouth shut in front of me?”
“….”
“It’s not as if your tongue was cut out a few hours ago.”
“….”
“Speak. Before I open your mouth for you.”
“Alex.”
The princess, who had been clinging to his sleeve the whole time, finally intervened.
It seemed she had collected herself, for the noble lady had regained her leisurely, serene bearing.
The casual gesture of running a hand through her hair even suggested a faint air of ennui.
“Let’s take a moment.”
Letting go of her brother’s sleeve, the princess slowly stepped between the Crown Prince and Eugénie Riville—positioning herself precisely to shield the woman from that chilling gaze.
Sensing a place to cling to, the criminal hurriedly hid behind the princess, and at that display of cunning, lightning flashed coldly in the Crown Prince’s eyes.
“Calm down—”
“Step aside.”
Perhaps because he was addressing his sister, his tone was gentle.
Cecilia Lucien met her brother’s eyes squarely, her posture composed.
Gold and violet—two different shades of winter—collided and froze the air around them. Arrogance clashed with arrogance, and stubbornness tangled with stubbornness.
“Sister.”
The man’s voice sank lower, rougher.
Though countless emotions roiled within, his tone made it clear he was forcing them down—for now.
Once the reins snapped, he would charge out of control.
Even so, the princess merely lifted her chin slightly, saying nothing.
“Even without you doing this, Riville’s future has already been decided.”
“Then that decision—”
“I did not make it. Don’t be mistaken.”
“…….”
“The young lady hiding behind you made it herself. With her own mouth. Personally.”
The princess still did not move an inch.
Behind her, Eugénie Riville began to pant and sob.
It was a pitiful performance, clearly meant to wring out sympathy…
But of course, it backfired.
The Crown Prince’s eyes darkened completely, filling with even greater violence.
“This is the third time I’m asking. I beg you.”
He took one step forward. A dark shadow greedily swallowed both woman and girl.
Within that shadow, the princess had to tilt her head back even further to meet her brother’s gaze.
The Crown Prince looked down with his head tilted; the princess looked up, serene, chin raised.
An invisible parallel line was drawn taut between them.
Even if they would never bend toward one another, they would continue watching each other forever—
“Please.”
A sharp edge formed in the silence.
The quiet had grown keener, meant to dissect intentions and read hidden thoughts.
What unspoken exchange passed between them, only the two of them could know.
The Crown Prince slowly bent toward his sister. Though the pressure must have increased, the princess remained calm.
“Step aside.”
“No.”
“Not ‘I don’t want to,’ but ‘you can’t.’”
Still leaning forward, the Crown Prince let out a soft, humorless laugh. The drained chuckle held no mockery.
“Sister.”
The way he called her this time was gentle—soft as a spring breeze, tender as flowers in bloom.
When the Crown Prince straightened and drew himself up, everyone watching tilted their heads in confusion.
‘Is he backing down like this?’
Really?
But what Eugénie Riville had done was a massive incident—
“Please don’t make me use my authority to crush yours.”
The Crown Prince added softly, his voice even carrying a hint of entreaty.
The very next moment, however, it hardened like a gale of icy blades.
“I’ll say it one last time. Move. Now.”
“I’m the victim.”
“And so—”
“So shouldn’t the priority in punishing the perpetrator belong to me?”
“And so. You want me to gently let that crazy girl behind you go? You may not fully grasp it since you weren’t there.”
Perhaps because last night’s vivid poem flashed through his mind, the Crown Prince couldn’t finish his sentence.
His sharp jaw tightened, muscles bulging blue beneath clenched fists.
“Alex.”
The princess let out a faint sigh, then carefully reached out and tapped her brother’s hand.
Like a bird affectionately pecking once with its beak—a light, intimate touch that almost looked playful.
The Crown Prince stiffened, his fingers twitching.
Having deftly short-circuited her brother, the princess brushed her hair back over her shoulder.
“I know how upset you are.”
“Ha….”
“But I’m not as soft-hearted as you think.”
An expression that said You? spread across both the Crown Prince’s face and those of the eavesdropping onlookers, but the princess ignored it resolutely.
She squared her shoulders and donned a cool gaze.
“Baron Riville’s daughter.”
The princess’s voice wasn’t as razor-sharp as the Crown Prince’s—there was no killing intent—but it was more than cold enough to cow the listener.
“Return to your room and reflect. You owe me three things.”
“…But—”
“But?”
As Eugénie Riville was about to babble something, the princess slowly turned around.
Faced with the sheer annoyance filling those golden eyes, the executioner-in-waiting sucked in a sharp breath.
Contempt or irritation might actually have been a kinder reaction.
The princess simply, utterly—
Cecilia Lucien cut her off, calmly tossing out her words.
Her voice, which made no attempt to hide its boredom, was cruel in a different way.
“You insulted me, disturbed the peace of my invited guests, and above all, you angered my brother.”
“….”
“When I summon you tomorrow, you’d better bring a satisfactory explanation. One that convinces me. If you fail to do so…”
One corner of her lips lifted smoothly. A smile—neither sneer nor mockery—settled prettily on her lips.
“Well. That would be unfortunate.”
She would pay the price of that “unfortunate” herself….
Suppressing the urge to fidget with her fingers, Cecilia cast a sidelong glance at the man before her.
Discomfort rippled across his handsome face.
From the moment they left the salon until they reached the pavilion beside the hot spring, Alexis hadn’t spoken a word.
It was a murderous silence, occasionally pierced by the sound of teeth grinding.
“Where are you going?”
The man sitting on the opposite sofa suddenly stood, as if to leave.
Cecilia grabbed him quickly—afraid he might return to the palace and tear Eugénie Riville apart—and instead of answering, Alexis flicked his fingers.
A cigarette rested between his index and middle fingers.
“Is it all right if I smoke here?”
“If you insist.”
Alexis crossed his long legs and put the cigarette to his lips.
Soon, a faint ribbon of smoke rose from the tip. Behind the curling silver haze, violet eyes continued to flicker obsessively.
Thus the abyss enclosed her.
So deep she couldn’t move, so distant she couldn’t even think of escaping.
The density of his gaze was suffocating. It felt as though he were burning her, not the cigarette.
Unable to endure the heat prickling across her skin, Cecilia lowered her gaze, tracing his prominent Adam’s apple, his broad chest, his graceful fingers in turn.
Just then, a low curse slipped out.
Unable to believe it, she looked up in surprise.
Alexis abruptly ground out the cigarette and stubbed it out irritably.
He straightened his cravat more neatly, then sprang up and started walking away.
“Alex?”
She hurriedly turned to follow him.
Only when he reached the hot spring did the man stop. He kicked off his shoes and socks and dove neatly into the water.
He resurfaced only after quite some time, then roughly raked his wet hair back.
He didn’t seem to care at all that water was dripping from his entire body.
Returning to the pavilion like that, Alexis dropped down at the table directly in front of Cecilia, trapping her between his legs.
“Well then, sister.”
Alexis’s voice was hoarse. Emotions too complex to name boiled within him, denied any clear form.
“Let’s talk.”
