BVIB 08

Chapter 8

“Oh, big brother…” Arma’s voice was barely a whisper.

Yuldian Dianitas. The very definition of a bully—strong against the weak, weak against the strong. Roselyn hated this kind of royal more than any other.

Yuldian swaggered closer, a mocking grin on his lips. “What’s with the face? Don’t look so thrilled to see me, mutt.”

Arma laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Heh… N-no, of course I’m happy to see you…”

Roselyn started to bow, but hesitation froze her halfway. The prince’s taunts echoed in the hallway.

“Wow, look at this pair—the supposed couple of the century. My useless little brother who couldn’t hurt a fly, and the gloomy, stuttering princess!” Yuldian sneered, his eyes glinting with malice.

“B-big brother, please don’t…” Arma pleaded, glancing nervously at Roselyn.

“Oh? Are you talking back to your big brother in front of a girl now?” Yuldian smirked, ruffling Arma’s hair with rough, dismissive pats.

Arma flinched but forced a weak smile. Roselyn, still half-bowed, straightened up and met Yuldian’s gaze.

Yuldian’s eyes widened slightly as he took in Roselyn’s face. “Well, well. Haven’t seen you in a while, princess, but you’ve grown into quite the sight.”

He reached out abruptly, gripping Roselyn’s chin and turning her face from side to side, inspecting her as if she were an object.

“Please, brother, don’t be rude to the lady!” Arma cried, grabbing desperately at Yuldian’s wrist.

Yuldian scowled, yanking his hand free. “Ugh, get lost, you piece of trash.” He shoved Arma aside and delivered a sharp kick to his stomach.

Arma doubled over with a gasp, clutching his side.

Yuldian stood over him, voice cold and taunting. “What the hell is wrong with you? Have you got no manners? Need me to teach you again? Do you want to end up begging for your life while shaking like last time?”

Arma’s face flushed with humiliation as he struggled to speak. “B-but… she’s my fiancée…” he stammered, voice trembling.

“She’s your fiancée? Who cares? If I say she’s mine, then she’s mine!” Yuldian snapped, his voice echoing down the hall.

Thud. Thud. Thud. The dull sound of blows landed again and again. The third prince, Arma, clung desperately to Yuldian’s leg, giving Roselyn a frantic, pleading look. Go—get out of here!

This fool, Roselyn thought with a sigh of exasperation.

“Let go of him. Now,” Roselyn commanded sharply.

“N-no, I won’t,” Arma stammered, shaking his head stubbornly even as footprints smeared his once-white uniform. He didn’t seem to care about the pain, just kept shaking his head, refusing to give in.

“Damn it, you loser. You’re really starting to piss me off!” Yuldian spat, kicking at Arma with growing irritation.

Roselyn’s eyes widened as Arma suddenly shouted, his voice raw, “Lady Roselyn isn’t yours, brother! She’s mine! She belongs with me!”

For a split second, surprise flickered in Yuldian’s eyes.

“All right then,” he sneered. “Looks like you’ve chosen today to die, little brother.”

Arma glared up at the second prince, his eyes cold and fierce—so unlike the timid man Roselyn was used to seeing.

He really does have eyes like that, she realized. Someone who never backs down from injustice. Someone who would share his last meal so no one else would go hungry.

He frustrated her, but, once upon a time, she’d even envied that part of him.

So even in this parallel world, some things never change, she mused.

With that thought, Roselyn stepped boldly between the two princes, a calm smile on her lips.

Yuldian hesitated, thrown off by her sudden intervention. “What’s this? Are you trying to protect your fiancé now? Think you can act tough just because you’re pretty?”

“Your Highness,” Roselyn said, her voice unwavering.

“What did you say?” Yuldian demanded.

Ignoring the second prince, Roselyn knelt down and calmly helped Arma to his feet. She continued speaking as though nothing had happened.

“There’s no need to arrange a meeting with His Majesty the Emperor anymore,” she said evenly.

“W-what? Did I do something wrong again…?” Arma stammered, confusion all over his face.

Roselyn smiled, a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. “No, not at all. I just thought of a much faster way to meet him.”

As Arma gazed at her in stunned bewilderment, Roselyn turned her bright smile toward Yuldian.

In the next instant—

SMACK!

A sharp, echoing sound split the corridor as Roselyn’s hand connected with Yuldian’s cheek, snapping his head to the side.

Silence fell.

Yuldian Dianitas stood frozen, unable to process what had just happened. The sting on his cheek, the sudden shift in his vision—none of it made sense.

Did… did that really just happen to me? he wondered, numb with disbelief.

People say utter shock can numb the mind. Maybe that’s why the world suddenly seemed so silent, so distant.

He blinked slowly, barely aware of the faint ringing in his ears as he tried to catch his breath.

Around them, faces stared in horror and disbelief. Only Roselyn looked completely unfazed, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Arma, still gripping her sleeve, stared at her wide-eyed, his mouth hanging open in shock.

“You… what the hell do you think you’re—” Yuldian managed to stammer, anger and disbelief mingling in his voice.

Just as the second prince managed to turn his head and open his mouth—

SMACK!

Roselyn’s hand struck him again, this time sending his head snapping the other way.

Smack. Smack. Smack!

She hit him three more times in quick succession, each blow ringing out in the stunned silence. Only after the fourth strike did Yuldian finally come to his senses, his face flushed red with rage.

“You—you little—!” Yuldian sputtered, fury twisting his features.

Roselyn looked him dead in the eyes, her voice icy with contempt. “For a lunatic, you sure talk a lot, Your Highness. Oh, by the way, it’s been a while. Glad to see you’re in good health.”

“You—do you even realize this is treason? An insult to the royal family—no, an attack on a royal! Do you understand what you’ve done?” Yuldian shouted, his voice cracking with outrage.

Roselyn just shrugged, unfazed. “I simply stepped in to stop my fiancé from being beaten for no reason. That’s all.”

“I am a member of the royal family!” Yuldian roared.

“Yes, and so is Prince Arma, isn’t he?” Roselyn replied coolly.

“Ha! Don’t make me laugh. That bastard isn’t fit to be called royal blood—he’s just a worthless brat who doesn’t even know who his mother is!” Yuldian spat, a sneer twisting his lips.

He gave a cruel, mocking laugh. “And let’s not forget, there are plenty of rumors about your background too, aren’t there? The two of you really are a perfect match—riffraff gathered together!”

Roselyn smiled sweetly. “Indeed. I’m just grateful I didn’t end up with someone like you, Your Highness.”

“You—!” Yuldian spluttered, nearly incoherent with anger.

The commotion had drawn a crowd; servants and maids hurried over, eyes wide with alarm. But Roselyn only gave a faint, dismissive smile.

Let them come, she thought. The emperor won’t dare lay a hand on me anyway.

Roselyn possessed the knowledge, skills, and information to solve the very issue that was giving the emperor sleepless nights. With that leverage, she knew the emperor would likely cover up her “misconduct,” dressing it up as a minor incident for the sake of their bargain.

She’d made her move with careful calculation. There was little chance this would come back to haunt her.

“That’s why you shouldn’t meddle with my fiancé. It’s quite upsetting, you know,” Roselyn said, her voice gentle but laced with warning. She reached out and slowly brushed Arma’s slightly swollen cheek, her touch soft.

Arma’s eyes widened in shock.

“What’s so wrong with an older brother teaching his little brother a lesson? Stay out of other families’ business! Just because you’re the imperial fiancée—”

SMACK!

Yuldian’s head jerked to the side yet again.

“Oh dear, my hand must have slipped…” Roselyn said airily, her voice as calm as if she were reading a storybook.

A collective gasp rippled through the onlookers.

“I seem to have a bad habit—my hand just moves on its own whenever I hear bullshit. My apologies,” Roselyn murmured with mock regret.

She shook her head, sighing as if truly disappointed. “I really do try to fix it, but when there’s a dumb mutt who just won’t listen, my hand just acts up again.”

“You… I’ll kill you,” Yuldian growled, his eyes glazed with fury. He stalked toward her, raising a large hand high above his head, ready to strike.

Roselyn simply watched, her lips curling into a faint, fearless smile. She had no intention of dodging. If she took a hit, it would only give the emperor a convenient excuse to smooth things over later.

She lowered her gaze, bracing herself for the impact as Yuldian’s hand arced down in a wide swing.

SLAP!

A sharp, jarring sound rang through the hall.

But there was no pain.

Roselyn lifted her head, startled to find not the second prince in front of her, but a broad back shielding her from view.

Her eyes widened in surprise.

She recognized that back—it belonged to someone all too familiar.

“…Your Highness?” she murmured.

“Did—did you get hurt anywhere, Lady Roselyn?” Arma stammered, voice trembling with concern.

It was Arma who had taken the blow meant for her. Of course, that broad back was his.

Was he always this big? Roselyn wondered. He usually carried himself so timidly, she’d never noticed before. But now, standing tall, he seemed both taller and broader than she remembered.

By all accounts, Arma wasn’t supposed to know anything about swordsmanship—a complete novice, at least in her world. Yet his back was covered with dense, well-formed muscle.

Then again, even when we were on the run together, he never seemed to tire easily, she recalled.

“Lady Roselyn?” Arma’s voice was gentle, drawing her out of her thoughts. She realized she’d been staring and gave a small, embarrassed nod.

“Yes, I’m all right,” she replied.

But her expression clouded as she noticed a thin trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth.

“Why did you step in like that?” she asked quietly, dabbing his lips with her handkerchief.

Arma’s eyes widened, then his lips curled into a gentle, lopsided smile.
“How could I ever let you get hurt, my lady?”

Yuldian spat out a curse. “You little—!”

Arma just grinned, undeterred. “Jealousy’s the root of all kinds of trouble, Your Highness.”

Roselyn handed him the handkerchief and murmured so only he could hear, “It seems jealousy is triggering more than a few issues—hypertension, violent outbursts… You should really look after your health.”

“You—!” Yuldian seethed, nearly shaking with rage.

At that moment, the head steward—his familiar face cutting through the crowd—appeared and ushered the onlookers away. Once the hallway had cleared, he stepped forward.

“Lady Bellion,” he said formally.

“Yes?” Roselyn replied, lifting her chin.

“His Majesty requests your presence.”

Roselyn nodded slowly, understanding the weight behind the summons.

“And as for you, Your Highness, the second prince,” the steward continued, turning to Yuldian.

“What is it?” Yuldian snapped.

“A message from His Majesty: Until you receive further instructions, you are not to leave your residence.”

Yuldian’s eyes flew wide open in disbelief.
“Wait, I’m the one being confined, not him?!” he shouted, stabbing a finger toward Arma, his face a picture of outrage.