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Chapter 66
“No.”
The Grand Duke answered without the slightest hesitation.
“If you thought otherwise, that’s a misunderstanding. I have not the faintest intention of running away from you.”
He added in a voice as clear as an autumn sky.
Why do beautiful things always seem truthful?
Human sight and hearing are so easily deceived. His angelic appearance and the deep resonance of his voice now made me envious.
“Really? Even when I was shouting, you didn’t even look back once—you just ran off. What was so urgent?”
“…I apologize.”
The Grand Duke replaced an explanation with an apology, indicating he would not share the reason.
It was my fault for asking, knowing the answer already.
I closed my mouth. The silence between us grew heavier.
“And thank you. For going to the Crown Prince and saving me. For staying by my side for three days while I was unconscious. Without you, I wouldn’t have survived this safely.”
“Yes. That’s true.”
I replied sharply, narrowing my eyes. I suppose he wasn’t completely shameless.
He smiled as if pleased that our eyes met even briefly. The curve of his eyes alone seemed as if God had painstakingly painted it.
Ah, what is there to smile about? His carefree smile made me even more irritated. If that, too, was an act, it was utterly detestable.
I quietly observed his appearance. A moonstone brooch adorned his jacket’s chest. His wedding ring on the left ring finger and an amethyst on the left middle finger were properly worn.
Of all his adornments, only these three remained untouched. Perhaps his last shred of conscience. In myths, Pandora’s box was said to have left hope inside—maybe this was his.
“…I saw a girl in the middle of the road in Yorca.”
His voice dropped into the silence.
“She was being mercilessly beaten by Levantean soldiers, grabbed by the hair. She looked like a runaway slave, and no one stopped them. The people around just stomped their feet, watching.”
I knew the story. I had heard the girl recount it, and I handled the aftermath myself.
But I noticed his fist trembling under his sleeve.
“My people are powerless. Once we became colonial subjects, we were no better than slaves. Even if a child suffers, there’s nothing we can do but watch.”
His tone was flat, neither cold with anger nor warm with resignation, yet it burned with emotion.
“You must have seen clearly what my country is doing on this land.”
“Outside of Blansk, such things are common.”
“Yes, it’s everyday life. Worse things happen too.”
I can assure you, what he saw was not even the tip of the iceberg.
In most regions, Dvorcans work under the whip without proper pay. Unable to endure it, they flee with their families to Blansk.
I often visit refugee camps under black hoods, distributing bread and water, listening to their stories. I check their bodies—none are unharmed. Arms, shoulders, all marked with whip scars and bruises. The children too. Since then, I always bring medicine and bandages.
It’s frustrating that I cannot bring them inside Blansk. Those inside the walls distrust and exclude them. Even though we share a painful history, hearts are too hardened to care.
Where war has passed, the land is like fractured ground after an earthquake. I hated knowing my prosperity grew from these roots.
Thus, the Grand Duke should resent me. Apart from last night’s pawnshop deception, I cannot lift my head in the face of this truth.
I silently awaited his reproach.
But what came from him was unexpected.
“The Grand Duchess tries to prevent my country’s tragedies with your influence. The burdens Levantea, as the invading nation, should bear. The burdens I should bear as a defeated sovereign. All of it rests solely on you.”
“…Wait. Grand Duke, why are you saying this all of a sudden?”
I couldn’t grasp the context of his words.
“I will not burden your already heavy shoulders. No one will sully your name from now on. And I will take special care that my weaknesses do not become yours.”
“Grand Duke, did someone tell you something?”
He slowly shook his head. I sensed a lie in the brief pause.
Someone had surely said something to him. Otherwise, there’s no reason to mention weaknesses and all that nonsense.
Who would defend me and criticize the Grand Duke? The treasurer Moreno? Or aide Julio?
Likely Moreno. He was the one who reported last night’s alleged infidelity.
“I’ve thought it myself. I will be the man you need.”
I could read the solemn resolve on his face. The declaration was so unexpected that I just stared blankly.
“I don’t want to be an incompetent ruler who cannot protect a small girl. And I know the only person who can make me strong is you. Just as you need me, I will become the man you need.”
I silently mulled over his words. The emphasis on ‘girl’ caught my attention.
I wondered—was he speaking of the girl I saw in Yorca a few days ago? Or the one he is trying to rescue on Pardon Island?
I wanted to ask, but I could not.
The truth would reveal itself in due time.
“…You’ll be the man I need? Do you even know what I need?”
The Grand Duke put his hand inside his jacket, producing a parchment scroll that seemed familiar.
“What is this?”
“It is the marriage contract with you. We can finalize and sign the terms today.”
“What? Then…”
There was only one clause we had not agreed upon: succession.
“I will fulfill the duties owed to you. Starting tonight, if you wish.”
He must be insane.
To suddenly enter my bedroom like this?
I could only be shocked. How many times must he fluster me before he stops? An unpredictable man.
“Then why do this? There’s still time to think.”
“Since you regard me as noble, I momentarily forgot my own position.”
“…What do you mean?”
“I was a purchased person. I must fulfill my price.”
David Mihail.
This man intended to embrace me with nothing more than that mindset. My country bought him, so he concluded he must obey.
A simple premise. That only made me resist more.
“No. I don’t need anyone right now.”
“….”
“If someone treats you with respect, act accordingly. I despise cowardly men.”
I refused outright.
Perhaps I am unprepared. I hate the idea of a man who may have loved someone else embracing me out of duty. It feels degrading.
I also hate that he reduces himself to a commodity. It would be better if he shamelessly said he couldn’t hold me.
I don’t even know why I feel this way. I need an heir, and the Grand Duke is breathtakingly handsome. Every glance steals my attention. Yet the idea of sharing flesh feels repulsive.
“I expected rejection. You must be greatly disappointed in me.”
“….”
“You probably think I’m naive too.”
He accepted my refusal calmly.
“I will continue to come to you. As much as you try, I will as well.”
He turned and left without waiting for a response.
Alone in the bedroom, the place he had stood felt forlorn.
I had to admit it—my desires were too much. After all, he is only a political marriage partner.
I wanted him to be as sincere as I had been. Even knowing I, of the invading royal blood, am untrustworthy to him.
Somehow, I had revealed much of myself. I cried at trivial compliments, let him see my disheveled drunken state, even acted absurdly in the pouring rain.
Yet he still tried to come closer. Said he didn’t dislike it. Occasionally, he even showed shyness.
I found myself hoping. Not for love, perhaps, but at least some trust could form.
The Grand Duke’s first impression was like a frozen winter lake. Sparkling like silver, yet reflecting nothing, concealing all. Step carelessly, and you’ll slip.
I foolishly believed that thick ice was gradually melting.
I decided not to assume the person he seeks is his lover. She could be a girl with a sibling-like bond.
Even if she were a lover, it wouldn’t matter. But if their relationship were open, wouldn’t he ask for help directly? Not secretly seek my hidden pawnshop.
“…I could help. When you are troubled or in danger, there’s a hand to reach out.”
He may not admit it, but I am his only family.
Yet he bypassed me and went to the pawnshop. That’s where the sense of betrayal arises.
Ridiculous. I suppose I truly wanted to mean something to him.
