TRETTHD 102

#102. Because He Never Loved Me

Bellia lifted her chin, her eyes coldly fixed on Elin. Elin, in turn, smiled even more brightly, as if refusing to yield to that gaze.

It was unusual for her not to back down like this.

Had Elin Canterif always been so sharp-tongued?

Even without her, there were already plenty of things to worry about. Bellia didn’t want to stress herself by dealing with Elin unnecessarily.

Just as she decided to ignore Elin and move toward her designated place, she heard a faint voice—barely audible, meant only for her:

“You put on airs, yet your actions are shockingly shallow.”

Elin covered her mouth with a fan, letting out a low, amused laugh.

“I always thought royalty meant nobility… but apparently, that’s not always the case.”

“You should be careful with your words, Your Highness. Speaking recklessly can bring serious consequences.”

Bellia found Elin’s display somewhat laughable. Only after Khalid had disappeared did Elin openly show hostility toward her. It seemed almost absurd.

Besides, in a moment when everyone’s attention was already on her, Bellia saw no reason to lower her reputation further by engaging with Elin.

“We’ll see whether your words are truly reckless or not.”

Bellia didn’t respond. Instead, she turned away from Elin, who still whispered meaningfully behind her.

Today’s event was held alongside the temple’s Thanksgiving Festival, and seats were assigned strictly according to rank. As the Second Prince’s consort, Bellia’s place was higher than that of Elin, who was still engaged to the First Prince.

Bellia walked past Elin with a composed air and moved toward her seat.

But when she took a few steps closer, she noticed a chair placed beside her own and frowned.

“…Of all times.”

Khalid, who was currently reported missing, wouldn’t be attending, so his chair would be empty. That meant this chair was almost certainly for Raul. The thought of sitting next to Raul instead of Khalid already made her uneasy.

“They should be arriving about now.”

The royal family members who had finished their prayers at the temple were expected to reach the party hall. During prayer, only those who carried the royal bloodline were allowed entry, aside from the empress. That’s why Bellia had come straight to the party hall.

“Strange… the Empress still hasn’t arrived.”

Soon, the herald announced the arrival of the First Prince, Raul. With confident steps, he ascended the stairs to the dais and took his seat beside Bellia. Holding a pre-arranged glass of wine, he addressed the nobles.

“Unfortunately, due to unavoidable circumstances, Their Majesties the Emperor and Empress cannot attend the party. I shall hold the place for them, and I hope you all enjoy this year’s harvest and have a pleasant time.”

Raul then sat back down. With both the Emperor and Empress absent, the highest seats at the event were now occupied by Raul and Bellia—a sight that struck many as unusual.

“This is a problem. I didn’t expect the Emperor and Empress to be absent.”

Given the rumors surrounding Bellia and Raul, their seating side by side only fed further speculation.

Soon, lively music filled the hall. Raul stood, descended the stairs, and extended his hand toward Elin. Shyly, she took it, and they met at the center of the hall.

As they danced gracefully to the music, Bellia watched with an indifferent expression. Raul held Elin’s waist and guided her hand with ease. When the music was about halfway through, he asked her:

“Elin, may I dance with Princess Bellia after this song?”

Elin said nothing. Silence fell between them. She bit her lip and shook her head firmly.

“I don’t want Your Highness attending to the Second Prince’s consort.”

Raul didn’t frown at her refusal; he simply tried to persuade her again.

“The Second Prince’s consort has lost her husband and is in a difficult state. If I let her sit idly and leave, it will make her a subject of ridicule. I’m only helping out of compassion, Elin.”

It was a ridiculous excuse.

Elin wanted to shout that she would be the laughingstock if Raul danced with Bellia, yet she couldn’t. In their relationship, Elin was thoroughly powerless.

“…Do my feelings not matter to you?”

“You are kind and considerate, aren’t you?” Raul smiled gently.

Elin could only lower her head in despair.

“My opinion is no longer needed, it seems.”

“Not at all. If you truly dislike it, I won’t risk hurting your feelings just to tend to the Second Prince’s consort.”

A lie.

Elin watched Raul’s polished shoes move gracefully to the rhythm, as elegant as his smooth words, completely indifferent to her shattered heart. She had dared to hope he might care for her a little, based on his few polite words, yet now, with Khalid gone, Raul revealed his true intentions.

‘He never intended to let go of Princess Bellia from the start.’

He had never truly made an effort for her. Everything he did was only to get what he wanted.

Elin’s sincere heart crumbled under the cruel, merciless reality.

‘I truly loved him…’

The song ended, and Elin answered weakly:

“If Your Highness cares for her, then do as you wish.”

With her permission given, the music ended as if by coincidence. Raul lightly embraced Elin before letting her go, whispering in her ear:

“Thank you, Elin. I’m glad you are such a thoughtful person.”

By the time Elin returned to her seat, her smile was gone. Raul, however, walked toward the higher position beside Bellia.

Feeling abandoned, Elin glanced briefly at his retreating figure. The sparkle in her eyes faded.

Raul didn’t sit; he stood before Bellia and extended his hand. The hall fell silent instantly.

“Bellia. Will you grant me the honor of this dance?”

The man who had just danced with his fiancée now extended his hand to her. Bellia glared at him.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

There was no way she would dance with him.

Yet Raul raised a corner of his mouth, maintaining a calm and composed demeanor, still holding out his hand.

“Did you not hear me?”

Bellia’s voice was sharp.

Still, Raul naturally took her hand, lifting her to her feet and leading her to the center of the hall.

“What… is this?!”

She tried to resist, but Raul’s grip was firm, guiding her to dance. The music began anew. Everyone watched silently, occasionally glancing at Elin’s expression.

Bellia faced Raul in the center and asked,

“What on earth are you thinking?”

Raul held her waist and matched her hand with his.

“I told you to come to me. I will grant you everything you desire—why do you resist so stubbornly?”

“I want nothing from Your Highness,” she said coldly.

They remained in place, dancing in silence, the music flowing around them.

“Everything else, I’ll give. I’ll let you live as the Second Prince’s consort. Publicly, you’ll still be Khalid’s wife.”

“Bullshit.”

Not worth listening to.

Raul slowly led Bellia in the dance. They couldn’t remain frozen forever; she reluctantly moved to the music’s rhythm.

“Do you realize how ridiculous we look? You, making advances on my fiancée, and me, dancing with the brother of my missing husband. All for the sake of others’ opinions. You always wrap lies in the guise of love.”

“…Because I love you.”

“Don’t hide it behind love.”

Having danced since the middle of the song, the music was nearing its end. Bellia released his hand, speaking coldly:

“You’ve never once loved me.”

As expected, the social circles buzzed with gossip about Bellia and Raul.

From stories of Khalid being used, to claims that Bellia was merely playing with the First Prince—people spared no shameful words.

“Isn’t he completely insane?” Rachel exclaimed in anger.

“I thought the First Prince had finally lost his mind at the party,” she added.

“How’s the atmosphere?” Bellia asked.

“Not good. No matter how much I deny it, people aren’t listening. They’ve finally found someone to tear apart.”

To those unfamiliar with them, this was just juicy gossip.

“Many still support Your Highness, trying to shift opinions, but everyone is too busy criticizing her. Besides… that day, Princess Canterif was in such a pitiable state.”

Bellia closed her eyes, thinking of how to handle the situation.

Given Rachel’s concern, Bellia knew the social image was clear: Elin as the pitiable victim, and she herself as the ultimate villainess.

Since that day, Elin had not left the mansion. Rumors multiplied, and Raul seemed unconcerned with explaining anything.

“Why is the First Prince acting this way? Everyone knew he couldn’t forget Your Highness, but to openly ignore Princess Canterif like this…”

“How is Duke Canterif reacting?”

“He’s furious. He says it’s disrespectful to the Canterif family.”

Bellia sighed. The situation was grim.

“Let’s watch a little longer before taking action.”

Her reputation was worsening—and this wasn’t the outcome she had anticipated.

‘This is troubling.’

As she pondered how to resolve matters that night, news arrived: the death of Marquis Selone.