TPTMB 10

Chapter 10

By the time Damon’s hand, which I was holding, had grown damp with sweat, I couldn’t hold back any longer and told him we were breaking up.

“I would like to end our contract after tonight’s banquet, Your Highness.”

From the moment I had inherited the title, there was no longer any reason for us to continue this relationship. After all, I had originally proposed our contractual relationship to Damon to escape my father’s pressure to get married.

There were two reactions I had expected from Damon when I asked to break up.

He would either get angry or accept it without much fuss.

“Bella, did you really think I wouldn’t know that your father has been slowly siphoning money from my funds?”

I never imagined he would threaten me.

I inhaled the cold air sharply.

When Damon sent me that impossibly heavy dress, I had briefly wondered whether he knew about the allowance situation.

So even if he’d used that as leverage to threaten me, I wouldn’t have flinched.

If Damon knew about it, that meant he was involved in this matter too.

But—

“I also know you haven’t gotten over that damned knight. You want to break up with me? Bella, do you really think I can’t do anything to a mere count with no backing?”

I hadn’t expected him to bring up Richard.

I was stupid.

How had I not thought of that?

“I’m not planning to make this matter any bigger than it needs to be. It would be ridiculous to betray Bellua over a few gold coins, and I’m not petty enough to be jealous over some childish first love. You’ll soon be my wife, so I should be generous.”

It was the first time in twenty-eight years that I’d learned you could cry even when you were angry.

Damon really had been thinking about marrying me.

He intended to make the Duchess of Bellua his Crown Princess and eventually Empress, swallowing the Bellua Ducal House whole in the process.

That was why he hadn’t said anything when I inherited the title.

He had known everything and simply been watching me like a spectator.

“I don’t have to tell you what will happen if you run away, do I?”

Damon seemed foolishly convinced that my father’s financial problems would be enough to trap me.

But that wasn’t what had me trapped.

“You know better than anyone how easy it is to crush a young noble who’s only just become a count, don’t you?”

Richard.

By the time the song ended, there had been only one thought filling my mind.

If Damon truly decided to go after Richard, then Richard, whose foundation was still unstable just as Damon said, could easily be uprooted.

And he would never be able to recover.

Absolutely not.

I gripped the railing.

“Become Empress, Bella, just as your father wishes.”

There was a cliff on both sides.

I couldn’t retreat, but I couldn’t move forward either.

Should I warn Richard?

Should I tell him Bellua will help him? That if he hides beneath my protection, we’ll somehow be able to withstand it?

This time, he’d surely look at me with nothing but contempt.

What am I supposed to do…?

Click.

I turned around in surprise at the sound of the door opening.

Hadn’t I locked it?

Surely Damon didn’t follow me.

“Bella.”

The person who stepped onto the terrace, with the dazzling lights of the banquet behind him, wasn’t Damon.

Nor was he another noble.

“Why are you crying?”

Richard Winston.

The man filling the doorway approached me.

The glittering glass doors closed behind him.

The latch clicked silently into place, and the people laughing and talking inside disappeared behind the black curtain.

And then—

“I asked why you’re crying.”

His voice had dropped to a frighteningly low pitch as his rough, calloused hand brushed the tears from around my eyes.

“Was it the Crown Prince who made you cry, Bella?”

His expression was so fierce that, if I answered yes, he looked as though he might cut Damon down on the spot.

Standing with his back to the terrace doors, Richard looked bigger and stronger than I remembered.

For a brief moment, I was seized by the ridiculous delusion that perhaps Richard might actually listen to me.

I pushed him away.

“Why do you care why I’m crying?”

I would be lying if I said I didn’t notice the faint crack that appeared across Richard’s face at my question.

“Richard Winston, take a good look at who you’re offering to help.”

Richard had asked me if there was something wrong and said he would help me.

But I struck directly at that crack with everything I had.

I needed it to shatter completely.

So that Richard wouldn’t throw himself into a fight he couldn’t win.

“You should stop concerning yourself with other people’s affairs, Count Winston.”

The moment I saw him step backward with hurt in his eyes, I realized that something had gone wrong.

But by then, it was already too late.

“Ah! Ah, aah!”

I thrashed around and tumbled off the bed.

Several maids came running at the loud thud, but I waved them away and buried my head in the mattress.

“I’m seriously going crazy.”

I must have been temporarily insane.

Otherwise, how could I have said something like that to Richard?

At this rate, there wasn’t a single difference from ten years ago.

Richard was the same.

What on earth had he been thinking when he kept asking me whether Damon had done something to me?

“What were you planning to do?!”

Kill Damon or something?

The thought suddenly occurred to me, and I lifted my head.

No way.

Even so, Richard was a count now.

As long as Damon didn’t interfere, he was a man who could quickly establish his own foundation and settle in the capital, backed by a vast territory and a powerful order of knights.

So what could Richard possibly want so badly?

“Your Grace!”

One of the maids I’d sent away suddenly rushed back into the room.

I was about to order her out again when I noticed what she was holding and frowned.

An envelope stamped with a golden seal.

It was from the Imperial Family.

“His Highness the Crown Prince sent a letter. The attendant insisted that it had to be delivered immediately…”

“I’m sure he did. It’s fine. Give it to me.”

I soothed the nervous maid and accepted the envelope.

She then left the room, saying she’d bring me some warm tea.

Apparently, I looked like I wasn’t doing very well.

I held my throbbing head as I opened the envelope.

That damn bastard does have elegant handwriting, though.

[If my words yesterday hurt you, I apologize. Bella, I want us to get along. As you know…]

The long-winded words that followed were nothing more than a string of meaningless phrases.

I skimmed through them without much interest until something suddenly caught my attention.

[I heard that Count Winston paid His Majesty a visit early this morning. Did you know?]

Richard went to see His Majesty?

And that early in the morning?

[It seems His Majesty is considering appointing the Count as Sasha’s guardian. I hear the Count hasn’t given him a definite answer yet, but if it happens, well… Bella. Don’t you think Count Winston is going to need my mercy even more? Sasha’s guardian, of all things. If I’m going to leave a dog that dares to challenge me alone, I need a justification.]

Richard would become Sasha’s guardian.

I read that sentence over and over again, staring at the letter that was clearly an extension of Damon’s threats.

No one could deny that Sasha, who had been away from the capital for so long, needed a guardian.

Usually, that role would be given to a senior member of the Imperial Family or the head of a family close to the Imperial Family.

But there was no one suitable for the role within the current Imperial Family, while every head of a sufficiently powerful family was on Damon’s side.

So I knew the Emperor had been having difficulty finding someone suitable.

But…

Why Richard?

Damon seemed to have wondered the same thing, because he continued with his speculation.

[Perhaps His Majesty wants to bring the two of them together. With that in mind, he ordered me to make sure Count Winston could naturally integrate into high society. As long as the two of them don’t get any strange ideas, I can overlook that much. I don’t need to get rid of the first love you’ll always remember. They look good together, too.]

I couldn’t even begin to imagine how many things had happened in barely half a day.

Didn’t I hear that the Emperor hadn’t even attended the banquet because he was ill?

[So I’m thinking of moving the hunting festival forward a little…]

“Damn it.”

I didn’t need to read what came after that.

I jumped to my feet.

“Oh my, Your Grace. Where are you going?”

The maid who had just returned with tea stared at me wide-eyed.

I took the teacup from her hands and gulped down the tea, which had cooled to the perfect drinking temperature.

Every October, in early autumn, the annual hunting festival was held.

As a rule, it was prepared by the family closest to the Imperial Family.

The Bellua Ducal House.