Episode 17 â The One Who Made You Like This Is the Bad One
After asking Baron Kristi to take Ryan back to his room, I hurried back to the training yardâwhere I hadnât had a chance to really look around earlier.
The maids and knights who were still there bowed deeply when they saw me.
âIs anyone else hurt?â I asked.
The knight captain shook his head, looking like a man about to be executed.
âŚNo, madam. Iâm sorry.â
Then he suddenly dropped to his knees with a loud thud.
I stared at him for a moment, then said quietly, âThis isnât your fault. Itâs the fault of those two.â
What I really feared wasnât the brawl itselfâit was the aftermath.
These men were supposed to head to the border tomorrow, trusting each other as comrades.
What if this caused a rift between the Imperial knights and Stroudâs knights?
âMake sure tomorrowâs schedule goes smoothly, and see to it that nothing suspicious happens.â
âYes, madam. Iâll warn the vice-captain strictly.â
He clearly understood what I meant.
âIâll count on you,â I said, motioning for him to get up.
Then I ordered the maids to clean the yard, and the knights to inspect their training weapons.
Once things were more or less in order, I left it to the captain and turned back.
It was time to see Ryan.
I carried a heavy oak box in both hands as I headed to his chamber.
It was full of medicine, ointments, and bandages.
They said it started as a duel.
Swordplay, at first. Then suddenly the two started throwing punches.
He mustâve said something Ryan couldnât stand.
Even if it happened in the middle of a duel, striking a prince couldnât be brushed off.
Iâd need Ryanâs account at least, before figuring out if we owed compensation or would have claims ourselves.
The thought of questioning him made my head ache, just like when I was recovering from that carriage accident.
Ryan would probably snap at me again: Why are you asking me that?
And if he brushed me off with You deal with it, what then?
Just thinking about it made my chest feel tight.
Walking alone down the corridor with the box, an old memory came to me.
Back when I was bedridden after the carriage crash, Ryan hadnât visited me once.
Not even to poke his head in, under the excuse of âestate duties.â
Even people worry when their pets are sick, yet I had been treated as less than that.
Thinking about the past only made me feel emptier.
It was bitter, realizing I was the only one upholding the duties of a spouse.
At last, I reached the large chamber doors. I told the guard to announce me. Butâ
âThe Duke has gone out, madam.â
âOut? Already?â
It hadnât even been an hour since Iâd sent him back here.
Even if the physician treated him, he must still be hurting.
âWhere did he go?â
The knight hesitated. That was all I needed.
I knew instantly: he had gone to her.
Meanwhile, OâHill had already heard everything from his masterâand immediately began scolding him.
âYour Highness, when it comes to the Duchess, you really lose all sense of restraint. You must fix that temper.â
ââŚ.â
âWhat were you thinking, throwing punches? So undignified.â
âEnough, OâHill.â
But the loyal retainer kept going.
âThe Duke wasnât wrong, was he? Lady Violetta is the Duchess already.â
âI said stop.â
âIf you liked her so much, why didnât you propose to her first?â
Hilbardo clenched his fist so tight, the bandages nearly split.
OâHill instantly shut up.
âIf I had, Pardia wouldâve been ripped apart by the Crown Princeâs faction and the Emperorâs nobles.â
As the First Prince, Hilbardo was already a threat to the throne.
If he had taken Pardiaâa fertile land of plains and farmsâno one wouldâve tolerated it. Theyâd have destroyed her family by any means.
Hilbardo couldnât sacrifice the countâs house that had raised him.
âA man wandering from battlefield to battlefield⌠how could I protect my fiancĂŠeâs family properly?â
Hearing the pain in his masterâs words, OâHill tilted his head.
âSo thatâs why you gave up the iron mine?â
âIt was the best option then. Bait the Emperor with what he wanted, so I could protect what I wanted.â
âShame it ended like this, though.â
ââŚâ
âYour Highness, you really have a tragic life.â
Hilbardo gave a bitter laugh.
âYeah⌠maybe so.â
It was his own fault for failing to hide his feelings.
He could have anything he wanted, yet couldnât win the one heart that mattered.
He wished tomorrow never cameâwished he didnât have to leave for the border.
He wished Violetta would say she was coming back to Pardia.
He looked down at his bandaged fist. It throbbed with pain.
Ryan, as Violetta had guessed, was heading to Solraâs place.
The alleys of the slums were filthy and crumbling, with stinking corners so bad he had to cover his mouth and nose with a handkerchief.
Rats scurried by, and dirty water pooled in the gutters.
When he reached Solraâs house, he frowned. The place looked like it could collapse if hit with a hammer.
He hadnât imagined someone as cheerful as Solra living in such a ruin.
Every other slum-dweller heâd known was either openly aggressive or ground down by hardship, indifferent to others.
This shook his prejudices.
âOh! Duke?â
Hearing his footsteps, Solra rushed out to greet him warmly.
The anger Ryan had just managed to push down began to flare again.
âGood heavensâwhat happened to your face?â
Shocked, Solra hurried to his side to inspect him.
Without greeting her, Ryan suddenly gripped her shoulders tightly.
âWill the Prince⌠survive the border war?â
âWhat? Why are you asking that?â
âAnswer me! In the future, you sawâdoes the Prince return alive?â
His terrifying expression made her freeze. Clearly, his injuries were tied to this question.
âAs you know, Duke⌠I can only see the future if I feel loved.â
His grip hurt, making her shoulders ache. No matter how much she tried to smile, her brows furrowed from the pain.
âCan you not change the future, then?â
âIs there something you want to change?â
Ryan sat down in her tiny, creaky chair, the âliving roomâ barely bigger than his own bath.
âI want Hilbardo dead. His arrogance, his eyes when he looks at meâthey sicken me. And most of allâŚâ
He swallowed the words: I canât let him take Violetta.
No need to bring up another woman when sitting in front of Solra, whose visions depended on feeling adored.
âI want him never to return from the border.â
His fists trembled with hatred.
Solra quietly gave him a cup of water, then disappeared into the back room.
She soon returned with ointment made of crushed herbs. The sharp smell filled the air.
Gently, she touched his beautiful face, applying the salve.
âWith such a handsome face⌠to be hurt like this. Whatever the reason, the one who made you like this is the bad one.â
ââŚâ
âDonât suffer anymore, okay?â
Ryan looked at her, eyes lowered, taking in her tenderness.
Unlike his wife, who had just tossed him a handkerchief at the yard, Solraâs soft playfulness and kindness soothed the thorns in his heart.
He liked it⌠But it unsettled him too.
âSo⌠was this the reason you came all the way here?â
Though she already knew, Solra pretended not to.