ITMFYWCLBU 25

“So this is all we’ve managed to gather so far… There’s almost nothing we can use as solid evidence.”

In the Crown Prince’s private chamber at the royal castle, Alexis sat across from Gracien, studying the documents spread across the low table between them.

“It’s suspicious, certainly. But suspicion alone isn’t enough to punish someone.”

Lifting one of the reports, Alexis frowned.

The documents had been compiled by Jerret, one of Gracien’s aides—an expert in intelligence gathering. Given how little they had to work with, the amount he had uncovered was impressive. Even so, there wasn’t a single decisive piece of proof among them.

“For even Jerret to struggle…” Gracien muttered.

“If he were our enemy instead of our ally, that would be truly troublesome,” Alexis replied dryly.

“As long as that one clings to power, alliance is impossible. And the moment they tried to harm Mathilde, I lost any intention of showing mercy.”

Gracien’s voice dropped to a whisper, his eyes cold as ice.

(Well… that’s true.)

If it had only been ambition, perhaps there might have been room for hope. But the instant a blade had been turned toward the person Gracien cherished most in the world, that faint hope had vanished. Now it was only a matter of outmaneuvering the opponent, gathering evidence, and bringing them down.

Though they kept it secret even from Clarisse, both Gracien and Alexis had a near-certain suspicion about who stood behind the intruder who had broken into Mathilde’s room at the summer villa. Yet suspicion without proof meant nothing. And so, to lull their opponent into complacency, they pretended to know nothing at all.

“Have they made contact with you?” Gracien asked.

“Occasionally they speak to me, but nothing substantial.”

“I see. Don’t let your guard down. You could become a target as well. That one shows no mercy to anything deemed an obstacle.”

“I’m aware.”

“If it were possible, I’d fabricate a charge and arrest them outright.”

“If you made such a reckless move, Your Highness, your own position would be endangered. They’re not the type to overlook an opportunity like that.”

“…True.”

Gracien exhaled sharply, glaring at the papers.

Just as Alexis reached to reread the documents from the beginning—

“Your Highness! Is Sir Alexis Luvelier here?!”

The door was pounded so violently it bordered on insolence. Gracien hastily gathered the documents and rose to his feet.

He shoved the papers into a locked drawer before answering in a composed voice.

“He is. What is it?”

The door opened to reveal a soldier they both recognized.

Upon seeing Alexis, the man cried out in alarm.

“There’s been a report that Lady Clarisse Brantome has been involved in an accident—”

“What?!”

Alexis sprang to his feet.

“And Clarisse?!”

“She’s currently at the Brantome residence. Her life is not in danger, but she’s been injured. Her Majesty the Queen, concerned, has dispatched a royal physician. I was sent by Her Majesty’s order to inform you…”

“Alexis, go. That’s an order,” Gracien said at once.

“Yes! Excuse me!”

With permission granted, Alexis bolted from the room, racing down the corridor without regard for decorum.

(Clarisse—!)

A carriage was already waiting at the castle entrance, prepared in advance. He leapt inside and ordered the driver to hurry.

When he arrived at the Brantome estate, Clarisse’s mother met him at the entrance, her face pale.

“Mother—where is Clarisse?”

“She’s asleep. The sedative has taken effect.”

Tamping down the urge to sprint, Alexis forced himself up the stairs with measured steps.

Inside her room, Clarisse lay upon the bed, asleep. The royal chief physician sat at her bedside, checking her pulse.

A bandage was wrapped around her head. The sight made his chest tighten painfully.

“Doctor, Clarisse—”

“Quiet. Don’t start shouting,” the physician grunted. “She’s fine. The maid threw herself in front of her, so the injuries are minor. She hit her head lightly when she fell, but it’s not life-threatening. The maid took the worst of it.”

The maid—Ellen.

Alexis’s gaze darted around the room, but she wasn’t there. His face went white.

“And… Ellen?”

“In the next room. Broken arm and leg. She’ll need strict bed rest for a while. She was conscious, so no head injury, but with rehabilitation she shouldn’t return to work for at least half a year.”

“I understand.”

Hearing that neither of them was in mortal danger, Alexis finally let out a breath.

He sat at the edge of the bed and gently touched Clarisse’s cheek.

There was a small cut there, likely from the fall. Aside from the head wound, she had scraped her elbows and knees. Nothing severe—but enough to draw blood, and each was neatly bandaged.

“I heard it was… an accident?”

“I didn’t get the full details, but it was a runaway carriage. Bad luck.”

“A runaway carriage…”

Even well-trained horses could panic and bolt if startled. It wasn’t common, but it happened. Perhaps it truly was “bad luck,” as the physician said.

But when the one caught in it was someone precious, such words offered no comfort.

The physician released Clarisse’s wrist.

“Her pulse is steady. When the sedative wears off, she’ll feel pain. Give her the painkillers I’ll prescribe if needed. She’s bruised in several places, so assist her when she walks. It’ll be difficult for a while.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll check on the maid now. Call if anything changes. She did hit her head, so by Her Majesty’s order, I’ll be staying the night.”

With a casual wave, the physician left for the adjoining room.

The door shut softly.

Alone at last, Alexis’s brows drew tight.

“Clarisse…”

When he’d first heard she’d been in an accident, his heart had nearly stopped. Even now, knowing her life wasn’t in danger, it pounded violently in his chest.

“A runaway carriage…”

Which carriage had it been? An investigation would follow. A report would reach him eventually. He wanted to lodge a complaint—no, a thousand complaints—against the owner.

But as the Crown Prince’s aide, he could not create a scene. It would reflect poorly on Gracien.

“I shouldn’t have let her go today…”

The moment his schedule changed, he should have postponed her visit to the Luvelier estate.

Leaning closer, Alexis buried his face near Clarisse, breathing in the faint scent of antiseptic clinging to her.

And he shut his eyes tightly.