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Chapter 41
Words Spoken from the Heart
“Your Imperial Highness, Crown Prince Adrian. If, by any chance, the Spencer family decides to raise this matter, we cannot overlook the fact that Prince Luance was the one who first drew his sword in threat.”
“It was self-defense anyway. There’s nothing they can accuse us of.”
Adrian sighed as he spoke.
Teishar looked down coldly once more at Luance, who sat collapsed on the floor, spitting blood and writhing in pain.
He had no intention of suppressing his rage.
Just the fact that Luance had frightened Lorencia was enough reason to hit him.
If anything, he regretted not hitting him harder.
“If you wish to make this public, by all means, go ahead, Prince Luance.”
If any issue arose from him striking Luance, Teishar was fully prepared to escalate it.
But Luance couldn’t make trouble right now—and if he did, Teishar would make sure it cost him dearly.
“Sp… ah… Spencer Marquis…”
“Starting with the potion you forced Lady Lorencia to drink, I’ll strip you of everything, Prince Luance.”
Teishar bent close and whispered low enough for only Luance to hear.
“I believe you’ve learned something important from me today—that one must never draw their sword in a battle they cannot win. And as for Lady Lorencia…”
Blood dripped from Luance’s cracked lips as fury burned in his eyes. He snarled, unable or unwilling to hide his loss of control.
“She is my precious tree. And if a vile insect like you dares to crawl even an inch up my precious tree…”
Teishar met his eyes with an almost benevolent smile—but his red pupils held not a trace of warmth.
“I will crush that insect to death with everything I have. This is not a warning.”
Luance spat out blood and glared at Teishar with bloodshot, hateful eyes.
“I mean every word of it,” Teishar said quietly.
Leaving Luance behind, Teishar approached Lorencia, who stood near Ranslon. He gently bent down and lifted her into his arms. After one last icy glance at Luance, he turned his back.
Behind him came a scream of pure rage.
With every step Teishar took, the hem of Lorencia’s dress swayed softly.
“Marquis Spencer.”
“Yes, Lady Lorencia.”
When she saw that Teishar had returned to his usual calm, gentle expression, Lorencia blinked.
She had been terrified when he lost his temper.
It was only for an instant, but she had clearly seen him seize Luance by the collar and strike him across the face.
Unable to believe what she had witnessed, she had sat blankly in the office chair.
She’d heard Adrian telling Teishar to take it easy, but instead of the dull thud of a fist, there came a few sharp smacks of an open palm.
Strangely, watching Luance get hit made her feel… relieved, as though the tightness in her chest had loosened.
Still, she couldn’t help worrying about Teishar for beating up a prince of another empire.
But that concern quickly faded.
Drawing one’s sword in the Crown Prince’s office was, after all, a far greater offense.
Teishar had warned him.
He’d even called it self-defense.
And yet Luance had drawn his blade. No matter how angry he’d been, that had been irrational.
Luance could never speak of this incident—too humiliating, and too dangerous. The very act of brandishing a weapon in the Crown Prince’s office was a scandal that could ruin him.
Lorencia gazed at Teishar softly.
“Marquis Spencer, doesn’t your hand hurt?”
“I believe I once told you something, Lady Lorencia.”
“What was that?”
“That I know very well how to strike a person properly. Do you remember?”
“I do.”
“I know how to hit in a way that hurts the other person—but not myself.”
“Then, do you remember what you promised me?”
“What promise?”
“You said you’d teach me how to hit people properly. You haven’t forgotten, have you?”
“Of course not. But if you’d prefer, I can do the hitting for you.”
Lorencia chuckled softly.
“I appreciated you hitting him for me this time. But don’t you think it’s more satisfying when the person who’s angry does it themselves?”
Teishar stopped walking and looked at her.
When Luance had shouted at her, she had trembled in fear—and that alone had made Teishar’s fury boil over.
He had already decided that if Luance so much as provoked her again, he’d hit him.
And when Luance actually drew his sword before Lorencia, there had been no reason to hold back.
He’d grabbed him by the collar and slapped him—not with a fist, but with an open palm.
A man hitting another man with a palm instead of a fist meant only one thing: “You’re too weak to even deserve my punch.”
That alone had been enough to shred Luance’s pride.
To be honest, Teishar regretted showing such violence in front of Lorencia. I should’ve restrained myself a bit, he thought.
Would she now fear him for being so brutal?
He worried. He regretted it.
But instead of fearing him, Lorencia was relieved.
She thanked him for striking Luance—and even worried that his hand might hurt.
“Marquis Spencer, thank you for hitting him in my place.”
“If I’d known you’d be this pleased, I would’ve hit him harder.”
“I’m sure another chance will come.”
Lorencia’s voice carried genuine sincerity.
She hadn’t shown it outwardly, but seeing Luance again had terrified her.
Memories of his abuse came flooding back, and she’d trembled uncontrollably.
The trauma he had left ran deep.
But the moment Teishar held her in his arms, the trembling stopped—especially after he whispered reassuringly,
“Prince Luance will never be able to touch you again, Lady Lorencia.”
Between those words and Luance’s frustrated scream, Lorencia realized something—
The future she’d feared so much would no longer come.
“The future has changed.”
The Lorencia who had clung to foolish, pathetic love no longer existed.
The fearful girl she’d once been was gone.
There was no longer any reason to tremble before Luance.
“To be honest, watching him get hit was… quite satisfying.”
And she reflected on how pathetic she’d been—to have feared such a weak man.
She made a promise to herself then—
To stand up to what had once frightened her, and never cower again.
“I’m glad it made you feel better,” Teishar said. “Now I really do regret not hitting him more.”
“I’ll make up for that next time,” Lorencia said with a small smile. “So please, teach me how to hit properly.”
“Of course.”
Teishar smiled and resumed walking.
People passing by stared curiously at him carrying Lorencia in his arms, but he paid them no mind.
All that mattered was getting her somewhere safe.
She was still a young sapling in his eyes—and he could never let her be left exposed to the harsh world outside.
Back in her room, he handed Lorencia over to Amelin and motioned for Evan to follow him out.
Evan bowed deeply and followed. Lorencia watched the door close behind them.
When Teishar left with Lorencia, Adrian let out a long sigh and pulled several healing-scrolls from his coat.
“Luance… what were you thinking? I know your reputation with women, but was Lady Illina not enough? Why did you have to go claiming Lady Lorencia as yours too?”
As the scrolls were torn, light fell upon Luance’s battered body, soothing the swelling in his reddened cheek.
“This isn’t the time for you to be worrying about Lady Lorencia.”
“What are you implying, Brother Adrian?”
“You want me to spell it out? Fine, I will.”
Like a cat toying with a trapped mouse, Adrian tore another scroll and smiled.
“You’ll be facing Young Lord Roryrols in an honorable duel soon. You should be busy practicing your swordsmanship. You know how it is—skip training for even one day, and your skill dulls.”
“My duel is none of your concern.”
Adrian tilted his head.
“Maybe Roryrols will appoint a proxy knight to fight in his place. You should be ready for that. I’d hate to see you caught off guard.”
“Who would agree to represent that kind of pervert? Their honor would be in ruins.”
“There are always people who don’t care about honor, Luance.”
Adrian looked down at him with a faint smirk.
He’d always known Luance’s nature was cruel—utterly devoid of the mercy expected of a royal.
There was only ruthlessness in him, and Adrian had long been wary of that.
“There’s no such man.”
“Oh, there might be.”
Adrian knew well that Luance’s faction had been quietly growing with the Duke of Greycan’s support.
Assassins sent after him, attempts to poison him—he knew them all too well.
Since childhood, Adrian had narrowly escaped death more times than he could count.
To survive, he had trained his body relentlessly.
After becoming Crown Prince, even more assassins came.
He still remembered his mother, the Empress, whispering to him:
“You must live, no matter what. You must survive, my son.”
With those words engraved in his heart, Adrian took up a sword and trained outside the palace, even venturing to dangerous borderlands to fight monsters and harden his body and will.
People worried for the Crown Prince who hunted monsters himself, but Adrian always smiled and said he was fine.
He traveled between the Polloyd Empire and the Ischter Empire, seeking talented allies who would stand by him.
Over time, his followers grew in number.
Among them were those whose families had been ruined by Luance’s maternal grandfather, Duke Greycan:
“The Duke spread vile rumors about my younger sister just to make his own daughter a royal concubine. Because of that scandal, our family’s business collapsed. I still remember my father’s last words—‘A man who cannot protect his daughter must die to atone.’ After that, my mother and sister both left me too…”
And so, the shadows around Adrian began to sharpen—
each of them carrying old wounds, old vengeance,
and unwavering loyalty to their Crown Prince.
