CCP Chapter 4

Edward, Duke of Kingsley, did not have a particularly bad reputation in high society.
Above all, he was thoroughly aristocratic, and he was regarded as someone who understood the inner workings of Winster society exceptionally well.

There had been a time, back when they had all still been princes—including the late king—when Edward had openly coveted the throne.

But that was all.

Even now, after so many years had passed, few people remembered it.

Well, except for an oddball like Wilhelmina.

“There is one thing I must make perfectly clear, Your Highness. His Highness Edward has conducted himself remarkably well all this time. These days, most of high society agrees that he would be far more suitable as regent than the ‘Massacre of the Open Sea,’ who has so much blood on his hands.”

The nobles of Winster society were all terribly proud.

They had absolutely no interest in where the tea they drank like water came from, or where the sugar they stirred into it had originated. At times, they seemed to forget that their beloved Brighton was a kingdom isolated in the middle of a vast ocean.

The ships carrying silver and the ships bringing in tea, silk, sugar, pepper, and all manner of other goods were under the protection of the very man they called a mass murderer.

And that was no exaggeration.

The moment he vacated the seas, merchants promptly raised the prices of tea leaves and other imported goods across the board.

Cassian was unquestionably a hero.
And yet high society still looked down on him, albeit subtly, as a man who lived by bloodshed.

It was hardly different from the hypocrisy of condemning a butcher as cruel while eating meat every single day.

After Wilhelmina’s brutally sharp and merciless assessment came to an end, Cassian fell silent.

For a moment, his expression was impossible to read.

The arrogant air with which he had regarded the unwelcome guest before him as nothing more than some strange and peculiar new species had vanished without a trace.

After a long silence, Cassian finally parted his lips.

“I’ll admit it.”

His silver-gray eyes swept over Wilhelmina like cold moonlight.

“Your audaciously confident reasoning is not entirely off the mark. It is true that, at present, I need a nominal marriage—something that can prove I have a stable political foundation and, in other words, silence my elder brother Edward’s petty and tiresome objections.”

“A wise decision, Your Highness.”

“But, Miss Priestley…”

Cassian tilted his head slightly, a gentle yet lethal smile once again playing upon his lips.

“The fact that I need a ‘wife’ to prove my qualifications as regent does not mean that wife necessarily has to be you. There are plenty of respectable unmarried women in Winster society who are demure and obedient—and, above all, who have never been the subject of vulgar rumors about rolling around on a boat with a boatman on the Tess River. Don’t you agree?”

It was an openly barbed mockery.
Almost a challenge.

As if he were asking her whether she could endure this, too.

An ordinary daughter of a noble house would have been unable to bear the humiliation and would have retreated at this point, confronted with the disgrace she had brought upon herself.

Unfortunately, Wilhelmina did not belong to the category of ordinary people.

“That is precisely where Your Highness’s limitations become painfully obvious.”

If anything, she even clicked her tongue at him.

“If Your Highness truly understood the inner workings of high society, you would never have used such naïve words as ‘demure and obedient’ to describe unmarried women.”

“Miss Priestley…”

“Please. Think about this carefully.”

Wilhelmina’s tone was almost pleading.

“With enemies lurking everywhere who are trying to seize Your Highness’s position as regent, suppose you entered into an entirely respectable marriage with one of those demure and obedient young ladies from a prestigious family. Could you really be certain that your wife would be entirely on your side?”

“That is hardly a matter for Miss Priestley to worry about.”

“Of course not. I have absolutely no desire to join Your Highness in walking that perilous political tightrope.”

“Are you being serious?”

“Yes. I can say this with absolute certainty: if His Highness Edward were not the one behind the spread of this scandal, I would never have gone this far.”

At those words, Cassian’s moonlike eyes turned cold.

“…What do you mean?”

Tap. Drip.

Rain began to streak down the windows through the thick fog.

A rumble of thunder rolled in the distance.
“I thought Your Highness had already figured it out.”

“……”

“His Highness Edward will either find some way to become regent himself, or at the very least, prevent Your Highness from becoming one. And in such a situation, there could hardly be a bigger prize than Duke Priestley, who has remained neutral until now.”

“In other words, my brother attacked you in order to get his hands on the Priestleys?”

“The official period of national mourning may be over, but people are still grieving the loss of His Majesty the King. The longer this scandal surrounding me continues under such circumstances, the more Priestley’s reputation will suffer.”

She paused.

“And then His Highness Edward will step forward, playing the savior, and extend a helping hand. He’ll simply happen to have a very ‘suitable’ marriage prospect for a young lady whose honor has been ruined.”

Lightning flashed soundlessly across the sky, illuminating the room through the downpour.

Amid that eerie light, Wilhelmina smiled—a smile so ominous that it could hardly have been more sinister.

“If that were you, Your Highness, would you tolerate such a cheap little trick?”

“……”

Cassian stared at Wilhelmina in silence for quite some time.

Then he covered his forehead with one hand and his shoulders began to tremble.

“Hah.”

The sound soon transformed into restrained laughter, echoing through the silent study.

“Haha… ha, hahahahaha!”

Cassian’s laughter erupted from the darkness.

It was hearty and unrestrained, yet at the same time, chilling enough to send shivers down one’s spine.

After laughing almost deliriously for quite a while, he turned his gaze back toward Wilhelmina.

She could clearly see the faint traces of amusement lingering softly across his features.

He called her quietly.

“Miss Priestley.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Do you have any evidence to support what you just said?”

“Not yet.”

“Then I suppose you would have little grounds for objection if I rejected your proposal.”

As he delivered yet another unequivocal refusal, Cassian found himself wondering inwardly:

How would Wilhelmina react this time?

He had lost count of how many times he had rejected her already.

Before, she had still had arguments left to make, which was why she had refused to back down.

But now?

She had already laid out every advantage she could possibly claim.

Will she finally be discouraged?

It would not be an exaggeration to say that he had rejected her this time purely because he wanted to find out.

Yet his expectations were wrong.

Wilhelmina remained astonishingly composed.

No.

She was more than composed.

A triumphant smile had spread across her lips, as though she had already won.

“I understand. I never expected Your Highness to snatch up such an extraordinary proposal after only one meeting.”

Wilhelmina rose gracefully from her seat and lightly smoothed the unwrinkled folds of her dress.

The gesture was perfectly ladylike.
“But I can assure you of one thing, my dear Your Highness.”

She lowered her voice to a whisper, wearing that peculiar smile of hers, her full lips twisting into an almost mysterious expression.

“Before long, Your Highness will come to admit just how desperately you need me.”

“……”

Her voice sounded almost like a curse.

And that face.

What on earth was one supposed to call an expression like that?

A face that seemed to simultaneously radiate countless shades and glimmers, like a gemstone with a thousand facets?

“Just remember one thing when that time comes.”

Her smile deepened.

“You’ll have to pay a much higher price than you would have now.”

With that, Wilhelmina turned on her heel without the slightest trace of lingering attachment and swept out of the study.
Bang.

The door shut.

The silence that flooded in afterward felt strangely unfamiliar.

Was it because her presence had been that overwhelming—the kind that filled an entire room and left a vacuum behind the moment it disappeared?

“Wheeeew!”

At that moment, someone Cassian had completely forgotten about finally broke the silence.

“I thought I was going to suffocate to death! Good heavens, what an extraordinary young lady.”

“…Uncle.”

Count Henry Mortimer.

With his good-natured, easygoing face, he was Cassian’s maternal uncle—and the very man Cassian had specifically requested to be present for this meeting.