Chapter 8

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 8

Chapter Title: The Crown Prince's Bold Stand

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Yes.

The reason I'd deliberately spouted nonsense and put on an act to provoke Ludwig was all for this exact moment.

'I knew the Emperor would show up!'

My wedding to Ludwig had been arranged personally by the Emperor himself.

The Emperor, who didn't trust his own son, had wanted to build power for his nephew Ludwig.

And the tool he'd chosen for that was me.

That was why the wedding ring now on my finger was a royal treasure.

At our engagement ceremony, the Emperor had called Ludwig and me together, offered his blessings, and given us this ring as the betrothal gift.

Because of that, he'd made a surprise visit this morning—the day of the wedding—to offer his blessings in person.

'Of course I remembered that timing perfectly!'

If my calculations were right, the Emperor would've overheard our bickering.

That would've painted Ludwig as the playboy who'd abandoned his bride in distress the night before the wedding to go carousing.

No, it wasn't a misunderstanding.

It was the truth.

And with my scream thrown in, it was no wonder the Emperor might misjudge the situation.

The Emperor strode forward and pried my wrist from Ludwig's grasp.

He rolled up my sleeve and clicked his tongue at the sight.

"What in the world caused this bruise?"

'Your son did that.'

But I couldn't say it outright.

So I just trailed off vaguely.

"It's nothing."

As I pulled my sleeve back down to hide the bruise, to the Emperor, it must've looked like this:

'She's covering for her fiancé.'

Sure enough, the Emperor turned on Ludwig with fiery rage.

"I'm very disappointed in you, Ludwig."

"No, Your Majesty! I didn't do anything!"

But to the Emperor, Ludwig's excuses must've sounded pathetic.

There wasn't a hint of belief in his demeanor.

The Emperor warned his nephew in a low, grave tone.

"You know better than anyone that it was I who pushed for this marriage today. And what that signifies."

"Y-Your Majesty!"

"Disappoint me once more, and I'll have no choice but to consider other options."

Ludwig's face drained to a sickly pallor.

Unlike when we were alone, he couldn't press or berate me further with the Emperor watching.

'What a coward.'

Ludwig swallowed his frustration and carefully draped the veil over me.

Even then, he pettily whispered a threat under his breath, so low only I could hear.

"Just you wait until tonight."

From beneath the veil, I smirked and slipped my middle finger up from behind my bouquet.

'Like I'd ever let us be alone again—fat chance!'

With Ludwig and me at crossed purposes, the fourth wedding procession began.

Familiar sights of the capital and throngs of people flashed by outside the window.

I was sick of it by now.

Clop-clop went the horses' hooves on the cobblestones.

And with the rumble of the carriage wheels, my heartbeat grew louder.

Before long, the bride's carriage passed before the imperial palace.

The agreed-upon spot with Arpad.

Those oblivious to the truth cheered toward today's bride.

To me, their blessings sounded like curses.

"Woo! Congratulations!"

"Your Grace, Grand Duchess!"

"May you two make the perfect pair!"

"May the gods bless you both!"

I didn't want to hear it, but I'd left the carriage window wide open for a simple reason.

I had to search with fire in my eyes.

'Where's the Crown Prince? Over there? Here? There?'

The promised place, promised time: noon.

But scanning every corner of the plaza, I saw not a single strand of the Crown Prince's golden hair.

Sudden anxiety surged.

'No way... he isn't coming, is he?'

The Crown Prince must've realized by now that Agrippina's Tear—the one I'd given him yesterday—had no effect on his mania.

That should've boosted the credibility of my words.

He couldn't ignore that I knew a way for him to become Emperor without going mad.

'But what if he still doesn't believe me?'

My heart thudded ominously.

'If that's the case... then...'

Though riskier, I'd have to enact the backup plan I'd prepared...

Then.

Bam!

An unexpected jolt sent me pitching forward.

"Wh-what?"

The carriage had screeched to a halt. Murmurs rose from outside.

I shook off my daze, head a mix of dread and anticipation, and leaned out the window.

That's when I saw him.

A man seated proudly atop a dazzling white steed, single-handedly blocking the bridal procession.

'Arpad!'

Bathed in the noonday sun, Arpad's hair gleamed brighter than the Emperor's crown.

"Wh-what?"

"What's going on?"

The crowd was baffled.

The wedding of Ludwig—nephew to the Emperor—and Hilia, the sole heir to House Delphin.

This was the grandest event short of a royal wedding.

Naturally, massive crowds had gathered, and they all became eyewitnesses to the unbelievable.

Someone had single-handedly halted the bridal procession en route to the grand temple.

Of course, the knights should've shouted him down and driven him off.

If it weren't for the fact that the blocker was this man.

"His Highness the Crown Prince!"

The knight captain guarding the bride cried out in shock.

"Your Highness... to what do we owe this visit...?"

He shot a glance at his squire, face full of distress.

'Hurry and inform the Grand Duke!'

As a knight of Ludwig, it was only natural to report this to him.

The quick-footed squire was just turning to dash ahead to the temple.

Thwack!

The Crown Prince whipped up a crossbow like lightning and shot the squire's leg.

"Agh!"

The squire clutched his leg and rolled on the ground.

The knights' faces went pale.

"Why this all of a sudden, Your Highness?!"

Arpad flashed a grin, his red eyes gleaming with murderous intent that chilled onlookers to the bone.

"What do you mean? I just caught a rat trying to scamper past me without permission."

"That's too harsh!"

Unable to stomach the insult, Ludwig's knight had his hand on his sword hilt.

But he couldn't draw it.

'Too many eyes watching.'

For a knight of Ludwig to draw on the Crown Prince would be treason.

Not just him—Ludwig could be implicated too. And Ludwig wouldn't stand for that.

Then.

While the knight hesitated, someone else moved first.

Surprisingly, it wasn't the Crown Prince—but another unexpected figure no one here anticipated.

Swish. The white veil draped in the noonday sun.

"Lady!"

"Your Grace!"

Amid the shocked cries, today's bride, Hilia, stepped forward calmly and alone.

She greeted him steadily.

"The daughter of Delphin greets Your Highness. To what do we owe the honor, esteemed Crown Prince?"

Seeing the bride step up, the knight felt a wave of relief.

'Even a mad Crown Prince wouldn't dare act out in front of his cousin's bride.'

He ignored how it looked—like he'd shoved a fragile noble lady forward to hide behind.

At that moment, an oddly cordial exchange unfolded.

"So you're the Delphin Duchess. First time seeing you. Pleased to meet you."

"I've rarely participated in high society, Your Highness. My apologies."

And then came something even more incomprehensible than the bride stepping out.

The Crown Prince—who'd blocked the procession and even fired a crossbow—dismounted gracefully.

His white cloak billowed elegantly. Only then did the knight realize.

The Crown Prince was dressed in the finest ceremonial attire, the sort worn only at New Year's festivals or grand banquets.

(And, though the knight hadn't considered it, it was customary for the prince to wear something similar even to his own wedding.)

The Delphin Duchess—today's bride Hilia—made her request in a calm voice.

"At this rate, we'll be late for the ceremony. Please, step aside."

Hope lit the knights' faces.

A noble, pitiable lady had asked personally. Any man of honor couldn't refuse.

But everyone had momentarily forgotten one fact.

That "honor" and the mad Crown Prince were words that didn't belong together.

Their hopes shattered as the Crown Prince strode up to the bride and committed an outrageous act.

Whoosh—he reached out and lifted her veil.

For a man who wasn't the groom to remove the bride's veil was the deepest humiliation.

An act so barbaric, even a duel challenge would be justified.

"Y-Your Highness!"

"No!"

"What in the...!"

Amid the screams, the crowd's confusion gave way to awe at the bride's beauty, stealing their gazes.

With the white veil lifted, the duchess's small, pale face was revealed to all.

Her lush pink hair, like a cloud, was adorned with a laurel of diamonds and silver.

Her flushed pink cheeks were utterly endearing.

Every blink of her eyelids framing those large violet eyes sparkled with subtle shades between blue and red.

'Sh-she's like a fairy...'

Even the squire nursing a bolt in his leg forgot his pain for a moment, staring blankly in thought.