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Chapter – 38
As though he had been waiting for the Crown Prince to speak, Youngsik shouted with a completely worn-out voice, almost screaming.
“Because of His Grace, the Duke of Caliente, I was dumped—my engagement was annulled!”
He had shouted with such force that he was panting for breath, yet no answer returned to him.
Of course it didn’t.
What he said was far too removed from matters such as the collapse of a family, or the grave threat a family heir might face—things of true consequence.
The Crown Prince first checked whether he had heard correctly.
“Your engagement was annulled?”
“Yes! The moment the Grand Duchess Selection was announced, my engagement was broken!”
Silence followed.
Youngsik looked like he had an endless amount to say, but because the Crown Prince kept his lips sealed, he could not bring himself to speak.
Who knew how long that nerve-wracking silence—one that only Youngsik suffered—had continued.
At last the Crown Prince spoke.
“You said you couldn’t go on living. That you couldn’t even breathe.”
“That is correct!”
“Because your engagement was annulled?”
“Yes! I still love her, yet she has not even sent me a single letter.”
He even held his breath as if his throat was actually tightening, then continued.
“She isn’t that kind of person. At the Grand Duchess Selection party, we even set a date for our wedding. So there’s no doubt her family was threatened.”
Though he had not named anyone, from the context it was painfully obvious to anyone that the one he meant—“the one threatening a powerless family”—was the Duke of Caliente.
Whether one could truly call the family of a young lady selected for the Grand Duchess competition “powerless” was questionable, but…
Another word had struck the Crown Prince’s mind far more strongly.
“Threatened?”
“Yes!”
Threatened… His aide had said something like that too.
‘Threatened a powerless young lady from the countryside…’
Setting aside the fact that this young lady was a thief and a murderer, the Crown Prince’s attention was fixed on that single word.
While he briefly sank into thought, Youngsik tried desperately to assert his position.
In his drowning-like desperation, the person before him was not a mere straw but a thick, sturdy rope—his only salvation.
After a torturous silence long enough to dry out Youngsik’s throat, the Crown Prince murmured as though talking to himself.
“Love. Love, is it. So it was love.”
“Yes.”
Looking into Youngsik’s earnest eyes, the Crown Prince lightly shook his head.
“As you know, an engagement is a transaction between families. Love is beautiful and ought to be protected, but I cannot pry into a transaction that has already ended because of your love.”
To Youngsik’s utter shock—and to an outcome far removed from what he wished—the Crown Prince gave a thoroughly reasonable answer. No, an answer befitting those of noble blood.
Then he headed toward the door.
Because he now felt inclined to visit the criminal involved in the murder case his aide had mentioned once before.
It was certain she had committed the crime, but what if his elder brother had punished her too harshly simply because it happened within the Duke’s household? That thought had only now occurred to him.
When he first heard the story, he had no intention of showing interest.
But ever since what happened in the Garden of Mist a few days ago… he couldn’t quite suppress the feeling anymore.
He repeatedly told himself he held no resentment toward Ludwig for knocking him unconscious with a mere gesture—but human hearts rarely obey their owner’s wishes.
Should he find even the slightest flaw in Ludwig’s handling of the situation, it would give the Crown Prince an excellent excuse.
To strike His Grace, the Duke of Caliente, where it hurt.
Youngsik vanished from both his sight and thoughts in an instant.
“A… ah.”
A meaningless groan escaped Youngsik’s lips, but he could not bring himself to stop the departing Crown Prince.
Left utterly alone in the unused room, he felt the world collapse before his eyes.
Only the Crown Prince could stand against that vile Duke Caliente.
People said the Crown Prince, despite his rank, was incredibly humble—always willing to stand up for the weak.
Of course, it was entirely up to the Crown Prince to decide who counted as “weak,” but a man who had only heard rumors from afar could not have known that.
—Click.
Just as the Crown Prince turned the door handle—
“Not only me!”
Youngsik’s desperate shout made him pause.
The single second it took the Crown Prince to turn back felt like an eternity to Youngsik.
At last, facing him again, the Crown Prince asked:
“Not only you?”
“Yes! Engagements from at least four other families have been broken!”
If just one man had been dumped, he could be dismissed as a fool who forgot his duty to his family for the sake of love.
But several broken engagements among noble families—even if it was for a Grand Duchess selection—was suspicious.
‘His Grace does not make mistakes.’
His aide’s voice brushed faintly through his mind, and the Crown Prince spoke casually again—just as he had when Youngsik first arrived.
“Tell me everything.”
While the jilted Youngsik was barely managing to speak with the Crown Prince—
Deep inside the Bolsheik estate, not far from the Caliente ducal mansion—
In a sunlit room, a hand on the bed twitched.
“Ugh…”
With a faint groan, the man’s brow furrowed.
His lips trembled, his fingertips twitched, and at last, without warning, his eyes flew wide open.
Even after waking, he blinked slowly for a long time, then raised his right arm with a soundless groan.
His strength failed; his arm flopped weakly as he slowly felt for his own face.
“How… long… has it… been…”
His dry lips cracked as a sunken voice escaped.
—Clack.
Without knocking, a servant entered.
Without even glancing at the bed, the servant opened the windows and began tidying the room in order.
The man’s faint, pale-blue eyes followed the servant’s every movement.
How long passed like that?
At last, turning toward the bed to straighten it, the servant’s eyes widened to their absolute limit.
Of course they did.
The eyelids that were always shut tight—were open.
His lips parted as wide as his eyes, but no sound came, only a gasp.
Who knew how long he stood frozen, staring at the man who lay awake at last.
When the hazy blue eyes finally regained their focus, the man blinked a couple of times.
“Hm.”
The once-blurry servant’s face appeared clearly enough to recognize. The man opened his mouth.
“It’s… been a while— ahem.”
His smile was awkward on a face unused for so long.
He tried to speak again, but his tongue stuck to the roof of his dry mouth and only a rasp came out.
Even in his shock, the servant perfectly understood what his master wanted.
He offered cooled tea—easy to swallow and moisten the mouth—and watched in utter silence as the man drank.
A few seconds passed as the man’s throat moved.
Setting the cup down with a long exhale, he spoke again.
“I suppose I’m finally feeling a bit better.”
His voice was rough, but unmistakably the same one heard day and night years ago.
The servant, eyes trembling, spoke cautiously.
“M-master?”
The man smiled, rubbing the stiff back of his neck.
“I should first find out what year and what day it is.”
Heidel Ryuk Bolsheik.
The head of the Bolsheik family awoke just as suddenly as he had fallen asleep.
Several hours after the Bolsheik mansion erupted in chaos at the news of their lord waking—
—Knock knock.
“Enter.”
Sebastian, for once unable to maintain his usual composure, approached Ludwig in hurried steps.
“What is it?”
“A visitor has arrived.”
Sebastian, uncharacteristically omitting crucial information, earned a dry look from Ludwig.
When he finished speaking, Ludwig left the office before he even finished listening.
The three aides left behind looked at one another, blinking.
The eldest aide nodded and spoke.
“It must be about Lady Asili.”
The other two nodded immediately, as though it were obvious.
“It seems like it’s about Her Ladyship.”
“It must be.”
Ludwig never abandoned his work and walked out—except in one very specific circumstance.
In fact, only one.
Only when it concerned Asili.
“Has something like this ever happened before?”
Asked the youngest aide as he stacked the documents neatly. The answer came swiftly but halted midway.
“Of course n— hmm… before? As in, before the young lady arrived?”
“Yes.”
“In that case… hmm…”
The second aide trailed off and turned to the first.
After a moment of thought, the eldest aide shook his head.
“No. Never. Not once has he stopped working and walked out. Even when His Majesty commanded him to come to the palace, he finished everything he was doing before moving.”
The youngest aide smiled in satisfaction.
