Chapter 68

Freyer seated me on the bed.

 

“How did Your Highness end up with the brooch…?”

 

“It was lying on the floor.”

 

If Freyer hadn’t happened to pick up the brooch, if he hadn’t returned to the estate when he did—what would have happened to me? I couldn’t say anything. I just stared blankly at my clothes.

 

The seams of my dress had split where the stitching tore, and the gauze I’d layered on to treat my bruises had come undone from all the struggling.

 

It would have been far worse than this.

 

‘How did things turn out like this?’

 

I tried to understand. She had lost something precious, after all. I knew that when people become overly sensitive, they lose sight of everything else.

 

But I never imagined she would blame and suspect my servant—and then go even further and suspect me.

 

“As expected, this is what happens when you associate with some unheard-of family.”

 

Hidden within Ophelia’s words was an invisible yardstick: social hierarchy.

 

Even among nobles, differences existed depending on rank, land ownership, and whether a title was hereditary.

 

From an outsider’s perspective, the Baimery barony was nothing more than a petty noble house without land.

 

‘I underestimated it…’

 

Having lived in a society without such rigid class distinctions, I hadn’t considered that far ahead. As I stared at my dress with unfocused eyes—

 

‘Winnie was in worse shape than I was…’

 

The image of her swollen cheek and the scratch marks left by sharp nails resurfaced vividly in my mind.

 

As a commoner, Winnie had been treated even more cruelly. I couldn’t begin to imagine the wounds she’d endured.

 

‘I need to go to Winnie.’

 

Freyer grabbed both my shoulders as I tried to get up from the bed.

 

“Where do you think you’re going, Lilithia?”

 

“I—I need to go to Winnie.”

 

Freyer bent down to meet my gaze, his eyes filled with concern for my safety.

 

“You can’t in your condition.”

 

“She was hurt worse than I was. I just look bad because my dress is torn.”

 

To me, comforting Winnie—who must have been more deeply wounded in spirit—mattered more than my own injuries.

 

“I said no.”

 

“She needs me. So please, just let me go to—”

 

“Lilithia Baimery.”

 

Freyer spoke firmly, his expression serious. It was the first time he had ever called me by my full name.

 

“To me, your stability comes first.”

 

He tightly grasped my trembling hand.

 

“You can’t even take care of yourself, yet you want to take care of others?”

 

“……”

 

“I’ll look after the servants myself. You should rest and sleep.”

 

When I tried to protest, his brow furrowed.

 

“H—huh?”

 

Freyer suddenly lifted me up with both hands. In an instant, he pulled back the neatly arranged covers and gently laid me down, drawing the blanket up to my chin.

 

“You really don’t listen.”

 

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he spoke to me.

 

“Don’t bother pretending to sleep. I plan to stay here until you actually fall asleep.”

 

For a fleeting moment, I had thought about pretending. It felt as though Freyer had seen right through me.

 

“When you wake up, everything will be taken care of. So rest.”

 

His words eased my heart. The tension drained from my body, my eyelids growing heavy.

 

I murmured my thanks—and then slipped into sleep as if losing consciousness.

 

 

***

 

 

Leaving Lilithia asleep behind him, Freyer stepped outside. He would never forgive that red-haired woman—nor her family.

 

Just as he clenched his fist and was about to leave the estate—

 

“Your Highness, Freyer.”

 

Freyer froze when he saw the figure waiting for him.

 

Nazlee Idarand.

 

“……”

 

Her face overlapped with that of his mother. His pupils trembled violently. Though he knew now that his mother’s death wasn’t his fault, the image before him was too much for him to dispel.

 

“I’ve been waiting because there’s something I want to ask you.”

 

Her voice overlapped with his mother’s. The memory of blood trailing from his mother’s lips burned vividly in his mind. He wanted to block his eyes and ears, to sink into darkness and erase the pain.

 

Freyer turned away abruptly.

 

A chilling hand grabbed his.

 

“Your Highness.”

 

It felt as though insects were crawling up from his fingertips. His head spun, nausea rising. Though he had met Nazlee Idarand several times before, this sensation was new—far more unbearable than he’d imagined. His heart raced erratically.

 

“What do you think of Lady Lilithia?”

 

“……”

 

Her words didn’t reach him. The insects had already climbed to his head, overtaking him. Fear and terror swallowed him whole. He couldn’t move.

 

Then a voice cut through his mind.

 

“It’s okay. It’s alright.”

 

It was Lilithia’s voice.

 

His racing heartbeat gradually calmed. Though it wasn’t her real voice, simply thinking of her brought him relief.

 

His frozen body moved again. The crawling insects vanished.

 

“I know this question is rude.”

 

Nazlee no longer resembled his mother. Freyer looked down at the hand gripping his. Nothing was wrong.

 

“But I really want an answer.”

 

How did he feel about Lilithia?

 

“Do you like Lady Lilithia…?”

 

The word like wasn’t enough to describe his feelings.

 

Freyer shook his head.

 

Hope flickered across Nazlee’s face—then crumbled into despair.

 

“Lilithia makes me want to live.”

 

She had pulled him out of the darkness and into the light. He couldn’t imagine a life without her.

 

 

***

 

 

Clatter—

 

Nazlee fled into her carriage.

 

“So His Highness does like Lady Lilithia….”

 

No—he cared for her far beyond mere liking.

 

She had met Freyer first. She had fallen for him first. She had recognized his true worth first.

 

“I liked His Highness first.”

 

Everyone knew of her feelings.

 

“Then why… why does he like Lilithia Baimery?”

 

Lilithia Baimery had wedged herself between them. And why would he hold affection for a woman of such low status? Nazlee couldn’t understand.

 

“She won’t be of any help to him. So why her?”

 

The one who should stand beside the prince was her. She was the sole heir of Duke Idarand.

 

Her hands trembled.

 

“I’d be far more useful. So why not me…?”

 

With the crown prince all but confirmed as the next emperor, the second prince seeking authority over foreign affairs clearly meant ambition for the throne.

 

But foreign affairs alone weren’t enough.

 

And if he truly sought the throne, he shouldn’t love Lilithia.

 

He should love her.

 

Her family could lend immense power to the imperial house.

 

Nazlee’s hands shook violently.

 

“It only makes sense for him to love me….”

 

She should have been the one in danger during the Hunting Festival. Freyer should have loved her.

 

“He has to love me instead of Lady Lilithia. I need to find a way.”

 

If Lilithia disappeared, perhaps he would turn to her.

 

How could she remove her so easily?

 

Nazlee gnawed at her fingernails.

 

“Lady Nazlee!”

 

She looked up at the voice. It was her personal maid, Libby. She hadn’t even realized she was muttering aloud inside the carriage.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

Libby gently took her hand. Nazlee stared down blankly. Blood welled beneath the tender skin under her nails. Only now did she feel the stinging pain.

 

She returned to reality.

 

“……”

 

The thoughts she’d had were horrifying. She felt like a monster.

 

She needed another solution.

 

“I need to see Father.”

 

The moment they arrived at the ducal estate, Nazlee grabbed her skirts and jumped out of the carriage.

 

 

***

 

 

Nazlee knocked on her father’s study door.

 

“Father. It’s Nazlee. May I come in?”

 

“Yes. Come in.”

 

She entered carefully. The split-level study was furnished with antique furniture. Duke Idarand removed his glasses and rose from his seat.

 

“Come, sit here.”

 

Nazlee carefully took the chair he indicated. The duke approached her with a warm smile.

 

“This might be the first time you’ve come to my study, Nazlee.”

 

“I didn’t want to disturb you.”

 

“I know how considerate you are. But it’s nice to see you here.”

 

He reached for the bell on his desk.

 

“Shall I have tea brought in?”

 

“That’s alright, Father.”

 

She shook her head, clutching her skirt.

 

“You said you were visiting the Baimery barony today. Did something happen?”

 

Sensing her unusual expression, the duke asked gently.

 

“Nothing happened, exactly…”

 

“Then why do you look so troubled?”

 

“……”

 

Nazlee bit her lip and looked up at him.

 

“You once said you’d grant me anything I wished.”

 

“I did.”

 

“I was wondering if that still holds true…”

 

“Of course.”

 

There wasn’t a hint of hesitation in his voice.

 

“You have a request.”

 

Nazlee nodded.

 

“For your sake, I would do anything. Rare items, manpower—whatever you need. Speak freely.”

 

Tears pooled in her eyes as she spoke.

 

“Please make it so that Lady Lilithia can never set foot in the Empire again.”