Chapter 38

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: Chapter 38

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter 38

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"Yes."

"Good. If she goes to a faraway place, it won't be easy for her to come up to the capital. You've thought this through well."

There would be no reason for Iona to ever leave the capital, but Richardt kept silent.

To get the Empress to approve this marriage, a bit of deception was necessary.

"I've told you time and again. Keeping a girl like that too close and watching over her was your flaw. She's a woman, and a young one at that. It's an environment where rumors are bound to spread."

"I've told you, there's nothing like that between us. That's why I'm arranging the marriage."

Richardt denied it out of habit.

He knew how his mother usually dealt with women who displeased her.

'She won't be able to touch her recklessly if she's a duchess.'

With that thought, Richardt calmly took a sip of his tea.

The ducal house was still hesitating due to past influences, but in just a few years, it would regain its former glory.

The Han Ducal Family in particular had become a highly thorny presence for the imperial family since the incident seven years ago.

As long as the marriage went off without a hitch, not even the Empress would be able to lay a hand on Iona easily.

Naturally, the Empress didn't like that scenario one bit.

She replied in a cold tone.

"It's certainly a match above her station."

"We can't very well give away a lady who could benefit the ducal house."

"I wasn't trying to scold you for being wrong. It's just my mood."

She seemed to feel the need to compose herself as well, falling silent for a moment to sip her tea.

Her cup emptied quickly.

While the maid refilled it, the Empress asked in a much calmer voice.

"What was the duke's reaction? Do you think he'll accept?"

"We'll make him accept. Once the proposal is out there, this marriage has become a power struggle between the imperial family and the ducal house. Of course, losing isn't on the table."

Richardt had one card up his sleeve that could shake Leroy up nicely.

'Viviana Schmidt.'

The woman who had lost her family and status due to a false accusation.

She was the last remaining heir of the Schmidt Count family and the duke's former fiancée.

After learning of Viviana's whereabouts, Richardt had kept her under his control and management. He'd anticipated she'd be useful someday.

It was a natural decision, and his foresight soon became reality.

If the duke refused the marriage, he planned to threaten him with her safety to change his mind.

'Though I'd prefer it doesn't come to that.'

It would be a waste to use such a valuable card on something this minor.

He did intend to arrange a touching reunion between Viviana and Leroy someday, but that was for later.

"Fine. I trust you'll handle it well."

The Empress's voice softened at her son's reliable demeanor.

She looked unusually well today. That didn't mean he could let his guard down, though.

"If you're done talking, I'll take my leave."

"So heartless. You won't even share a cup of tea with your mother?"

"I've already had my fill."

"You haven't touched the dessert I prepared for you."

With that, the Empress pushed the plate of pastries toward him with her slender fingers.

"Here, these are biscuits made with dried figs. You never turned them down, even as a child who hated sweets."

"You remember."

"Of course. That's why every time I visited you and Tess, that child would make them herself..."

She trailed off mid-reminiscence, a gentle smile on her face.

Richardt didn't even flinch at the familiar situation.

The Empress slowly raised a hand to fumble at her veiled face, then began scratching at the uneven skin with her nails, letting out a groan.

"Get out."

It sounded like the rasp of an old woman being strangled.

As he rose from his seat, Richardt placed a restraining hand on her shoulder.

"Mother."

"I said get out."

"Calm down. There's no need to get more upset."

"Get out, I said!"

The Empress shoved her son away with a shriek.

But the body of a woman who hadn't ventured outside for so long was too frail for such resistance to mean anything.

Richardt easily seized her wrist.

At this close range, he could peer beyond the veil as well.

Locking eyes with the Empress, Richardt whispered softly.

"Why get so agitated? She's already dead."

Even adding,

"You made her that way with your own hands."

Her eyes slowly widened.

Richardt released his grip on her.

She let out a bizarre, animal-like wail before starting to scream like a madwoman.

"No, noooo! Get away! Leave me alone—everyone, get out!"

The plates that had adorned the tea table began crashing to the floor one by one, shattering.

The fig biscuits the Empress had offered her son were already crushed under her shoe.

As his mother wished, Richardt left her there and stepped outside.

The moment he closed the door, all the noise from within cut off, leaving silence.

Luisa, his maid waiting outside, approached at once and offered him a handkerchief.

As he wiped the tea splattered on his face, Richardt muttered wearily.

"This isn't the imperial palace—it's a gathering place for lunatics."

His grandfather, the former Emperor, was also afflicted with madness, merely biding his time until death.

Having inherited the blood of insanity from both his mother's and father's sides, perhaps his own descent into madness wasn't far off.

'Maybe it already has.'

Glancing at Luisa's face, Richardt asked on impulse.

"Is Iona still recovering?"

"Yes, as her wounds haven't fully healed, I believe she's handling paperwork for the Knight Order."

"I have something to discuss with her face-to-face, so if she's still around, call her."

"She's off duty today, so she won't be there."

Only then did Richardt's reason return.

"Shall I tell her Your Highness was looking for her when she comes in?"

"No, forget it. Pretend that conversation never happened."

Brushing it off casually, Richardt headed straight for the Crown Prince's Palace.

It irked him that Iona was sneaking out without his knowledge, but he couldn't very well keep her locked inside the palace.

Even someone as autocratic as him had to exercise restraint when it came to her.

'Father, mother, Nils Modroff... At least three need to die before there's any real hope.'

Finishing his chilling calculation, Richardt let out a smirk.

He had no intention of laying hands on his parents, so it would likely be a long wait—but time was on his side regardless.

He could still afford to play it leisurely.

Iona woke up to find herself the capital's top VIP overnight. This was no exaggeration.

"Customer, how about this one? It's a draped skirt made lavishly from Argentan silk. The way the fabric sways as you walk gives such an elegant feel. If that's not your taste..."

Iona stared blankly as the woman across from her pulled out another fabric.

Honestly, she could barely understand half of what the woman was saying.

Iona wasn't one to sleep in, but she'd never gone on such full-scale shopping the moment the sun rose.

Feeling dizziness wash over her, Iona hurriedly stopped the woman.

"Wait, that's enough. I get the gist. I'll order the one you just mentioned."

"Oh, thank you! Then let me explain the next item as well."

The clerk replied in a bright, melodic voice, not forgetting to unfold the fabric she'd been looking for in front of Iona.

Iona's lips moved feebly.

"...I just want to order one."

"Oh, no, we can't do that! The person who placed the order said you need at least twenty outfits for this season alone. Come on, just a little more effort together?"

'Twenty outfits?'

Iona's face paled.