Chapter 17

Then, accompanied by noisy footsteps, Gambry returned carrying a tray. Having brought a teapot and three teacups, he dropped to his knees, placed a cup before both Renee and Rupert, and poured them steaming black tea.

 

Leaving the remaining cup—presumably intended for Ricard—at the head of the table, Gambry placed the teapot beside it, stood up from his knees, and respectfully stepped back.

 

“As I was instructed not to loiter in the office after serving the tea, I shall take my leave now.”

 

“Thank you, Gambry.”

 

“Don’t mention it, My Lady!”

 

Dismissing her gratitude with a wave of his hands, he closed the door firmly behind him and exited the office. In the room, where now truly only the two of them remained, a subtle silence settled.

 

Rupert hadn’t even touched his teacup; he simply sat staring straight ahead, his lips pressed tightly together. He was taciturn by nature, but right now, there was definitely something strange about him.

 

Come to think of it, it had been that way while they were riding in the carriage to this place—no, even before that, from the moment he had burst open the door to her solitary cell. Why was that?

 

With Rupert added to her anxieties about whether she could convince Ricard, her mind was a whirlwind of confusion. Attempting to calm herself somehow, Renee picked up the teacup in front of her for no particular reason.

 

As she carefully took a sip of the fragrant tea, her tense body seemed to relax slightly. Yet, the mysterious, uncanny feeling remained unchanged.

 

Just then, Rupert’s gaze, which had been drifted slightly to the side, shifted directly to meet Renee’s eyes. When Renee froze in surprise, Rupert furrowed the bridge of his nose.

 

“I am truly sorry for deceiving you, however unintentionally.”

 

“Pardon…?”

 

At his cryptic words, Renee gripped the handle of her teacup all the harder. It felt as though a danger signal had flared brightly in her mind.

 

It was right then. Without a sound of warning, the office door burst open.

 

Renee and Rupert both turned their eyes toward the door at the same time.

 

Thud—!

 

The heavy door slammed shut with a sound even louder than when it had opened. The person who had entered so roughly was the master of this office—Ricard, the man she had been waiting for so desperately.

 

“……”

 

Even though it had only been a week, it felt as though months had passed since she last saw him. Renee couldn’t bring herself to utter a word, her eyes locked on Ricard.

 

Unlike his usual pristine appearance, he looked disheveled, dressed in the blue-tinted training uniform of the Hebaron Knights.

 

Over it, he wore a thin piece of silver armor—crafted from a specialized material that no ordinary blade could pierce.

 

It was the attire the Hebaron Knights wore whenever they underwent group training. While the sleeves and hems of the training suit were loose, the armor clung seamlessly to his torso, revealing the precise contours of his shoulders and chest.

 

Her eyes drawn to him despite herself, Renee looked down, unable to meet Ricard’s eyes directly. Still, she focused all her senses on his figure caught in the periphery of her vision.

 

For some reason, he stood near the door without saying a word. Though he looked slightly gaunt, as if he had lost weight over the past few days, he radiated the distinct vitality of a man who had just engaged in intense physical exertion.

 

His black hair was drenched in sweat, clinging to his forehead, and dirt was smeared across his training uniform, suggesting he had been in a rough skirmish.

 

Renee couldn’t even think to stand up and greet him; she could only feel her violent heartbeat. Her inner emotions were so tangled together that she felt nauseous.

 

As she fidgeted with her fingers, she heard Ricard’s footsteps.

 

His scent grew stronger—a smell entirely different from his usual clean, refined scent.

 

The sour smell of sweat, mixed with a metallic scent reminiscent of blood or a rusted blade. With every heavy step he took closer, the intensifying scent caused a dull heat to rise within her.

 

‘Why aren’t you saying anything!’

 

Renee cried out silently. If he had shouted at her as a criminal the moment he saw her, she wouldn’t have been flailing in such chaotic emotions out of sheer terror.

 

Finally, Ricard came to a stop near the table.

 

Just being in the same space with him made her emotions surge. Seeing him standing intact on his own two feet brought a wave of relief, but alongside it came feelings she couldn’t fully explain—sorrow, unfairness, and above all, welcome.

 

“As you may have heard, the training ran long, so…”

 

Cutting his sentence short, he fiddled with the neck portion of his armor with an annoyed expression. Hearing that his voice was fine, it seemed the residual effects of the lethal poison had not damaged his vocal cords.

 

Ricard glanced around his surroundings briefy. Then, with an irritated look as if things were inconvenient, he shook his wet hair.

 

Whether he had sweated more than was visible, fine droplets of sweat scattered into the air every time he shook his head—like a huge hound drenched in rain shaking off water.

 

“…I’m a little late.”

 

Finishing his sentence only after a long pause, Ricard reached his arms behind his back and began to strip off his armor. Clinging tightly to his body, it seemed difficult to remove; he struggled with a deep scowl for quite a while before finally stripping it off and throwing it aside.

 

Holding the armor, which looked almost like a net because it was so light, he looked around once more. He then tossed it toward his work desk further away.

 

With a metallic clatter, the armor landed safely on top of the desk. Considering he was a man who rarely tolerated items being out of place, doing something like this suggested that he was in an extreme hurry, whatever the reason might be.

 

It had to be more than just the heat or discomfort. In that case, the conversation the three of them were about to have was clearly of utmost importance to him.

 

Renee remained frozen like stone, unable to even raise her head, enduring the passage of time. Meanwhile, the next thing Ricard chose to take off after his armor was his training tunic.

 

As he unbuttoned it from top to bottom, his bare chest was exposed.

 

It was a muscle-bound body as sculpted and beautiful as a statue. His frame, muscles, and the skin covering them were flawlessly perfect, but perhaps because his body was forged in the heat of battle, it was covered in scars.

 

Having her gaze caught by a half-naked Ricard in an instant, Renee belatedly realized what she was doing and hurriedly lowered her head again. Had it been the usual Ricard, he would have teased her mercilessly.

 

Yet now, he said nothing. He simply walked toward his desk, slipped on a dress shirt that seemed to have been hung there temporarily, and began buttoning it over his bare skin.

 

Renee felt her heart crumbling in heartbreak. It felt as though they had already crossed a point of no return before they could even converse.

 

Meanwhile, Rupert hadn’t said a single word since Ricard entered. He didn’t even stand up to greet Ricard, remaining seated with his mouth firmly shut.

 

He seemed like a man who would never break rules or etiquette, but he was definitely acting strange today.

 

Buttoning his dress shirt, Ricard walked toward the two of them.

 

“Was it the night two days before the banquet? When you requested an audience with me.”

 

His words were directed at Renee. He used to address her with formal speech in front of others, but now it was different.

 

‘Perhaps he’s already decided no longer to treat me as his wife.’

 

Arriving at the table shortly, he didn’t sit at the head seat; instead, he stood his ground and continued speaking.

 

“You asked a absurd question about whether Galael Haksen would attend the banquet, which I thought was odd.”

 

The moment she heard the name Galael Haksen, Renee raised her head reflexively. As if expecting her reaction, Ricard leaned his upper body back slightly, crossed his arms, and narrowed his eyes.

 

Under Ricard’s sharp gaze, which felt as though it could pierce through to her very bones, Renee found it impossible to control her expression. Why was he bringing up Galael Haksen now?

 

Only now did she notice that Ricard was holding a single piece of paper in his hand. Unrolling the rolled paper, he laid it out on the table for Renee to see.

 

Not knowing what to expect, Renee looked down at the paper and gasped in horror. The first line read:

 

「1. The culprit’s name is Hoffman. A servant working in Sainer Castle.」

 

It was unmistakably her own handwriting. It made sense—she was the one who wrote it herself.

 

With trembling hands, Renee picked up the paper. She then began reading the contents following the first line in sequence.

 

「2. Galael procures the lethal poison and hands it to Hoffman. Hoffman keeps the poison bottle hidden until the early morning of the banquet, when he sneaks into the wine cellar to conceal it.」

 

These were the details she had organized to prevent the upcoming poisoning incident ahead of the banquet. She had written them in secret, locking her room and relying on a single dim lantern.

 

She had hidden this paper beneath her bed where no one could see it; she never expected to see it again like this.

 

Much less that it would be handed to her by Ricard, of all people, in a situation where she was framed as the culprit.

 

Renee placed the paper back on the table without even finishing it. Ricard remained standing in the same spot instead of taking a seat.

 

She wanted to know what kind of expression he was making, but she lacked the courage to raise her head.

 

“How could this…”

 

Muttering slipped from her lips involuntarily. It wasn’t that she stopped speaking to make excuses, but she was so bewildered that she couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence.

 

In the end, Renee trailed off without finishing her question. She dropped her gaze and then raised it again, but unable to look Ricard in the face, she could only steal glances at him.

 

Ricard hadn’t taken his eyes off her for even a fraction of a second. As if determined not to miss even the smallest change in her expression, he watched her every move without blinking.

 

Under that sharp gaze, she felt as though her entire body, down to her extremities, would freeze solid. She couldn’t ask a question, nor could she rashly make an excuse.

 

Ultimately, Renee shifted her gaze back to the paper on the table and resumed reading.

 

More important than when or how Ricard had found this paper was what he intended to tell her by bringing it out now.

 

And finally, the fifth point.

 

「5. On the early morning of the banquet day, Hoffman, having passed inspection, retrieves the bottle he previously hid in the wine cellar and poisons a single glass. Carrying a tray laden with dozens of wine glasses, he wanders through the venue before naturally handing the poisoned glass to Ricard, who is greeting the guests.」

 

Having read up to the final sentence, Renee could arrive at only one clear conclusion.

 

‘This is sufficient evidence to assume that Galael, Hoffman, and I plotted a murder together.’

 

Now that she thought about it, it wasn’t hard to guess how he came to find and possess this paper.

 

She was a suspect in the poisoning incident, so searching her room would have been a natural procedure.

 

The investigative staff might have found the paper first and handed it over to Ricard. What was clear was that from anyone’s perspective, reading this content would lead them to judge her as an accomplice.

 

It felt like the puzzle pieces were finally falling into place. She could also understand why Ricard had mentioned Galael Haksen earlier.

 

“Ha… Haha.”

 

A hollow laugh erupted from her, completely inappropriate for the situation.

 

‘It was my desperate attempt to somehow save Ricard from danger. To think this paper would be used like this.’

 

It was a mockingly ironic situation. She had ended up confirming her own guilt for a frame-up she had falsely inherited.

 

It was then. Someone knocked on the office door.

 

“E-Excuse me… Y-Your Grace…”

 

It was Gambry. When he called out to Ricard with a severe stutter, Ricard’s face instantly darkened into a terrifying expression, and he snapped his head toward the door.

 

Muttering a low curse, Ricard walked toward the door with heavy, aggressive steps, attempting to suppress his rage.

 

She didn’t know what it was about, but thanks to the interruption, she felt like she could catch her breath a little. Involuntarily exhaling the breath she had been holding, Renee took long moments to regain her composure.

 

Behind her back, she heard Ricard yank the door open as if to break it, grinding his teeth as he spoke.

 

“I believe I explicitly ordered that until I open this door and step out myself, you are not to call me even if the castle catches fire.”

 

“I-I know, Your Grace! I am deeply sorry, but you instructed me to report immediately without exception if it concerned the cafe, so I had no choice…”

 

“The cafe?”

 

“Yes, Your Grace!”

 

What caught Renee’s ear in the conversation between Ricard and Gambry was the phrase “the cafe.” It had already been a week since she had been unable to go to the cafe after becoming a suspect.

 

She had barely been able to think about the cafe during this time. She had been consumed by the thought of somehow clearing her name.

 

However, the moment she heard the word “cafe,” an intense rush of emotion flooded over her as if she had been hit hard on the back of the head.

 

‘How are things going at the cafe?’

 

In truth, she felt an intense worry and curiosity about her absence. The staff at the cafe were all capable, so they would surely manage their duties well without her.

 

‘Then what about the customers…?’

 

After the employees, the next thing that came to mind were the customers who used to stand in endless lines every morning as soon as the shop opened. Faces of those who would travel long distances just to exchange a single word of greeting with her, or to share anxieties they couldn’t confide to anyone else.

 

In truth, she might not just be worrying about big or small problems arising while she was away. Rather, she was terrified that no one would notice her absence—that no one would look for her or miss her.

 

“…Though it’s a temporary operation, we are doing our utmost.”

 

Behind her, a third voice was heard—not Ricard’s, nor Gambry’s. Inferring from the conversation, it seemed that one of the officials of Sainer Castle was managing the cafe during the period she was unable to work.

 

And for some reason, the moment she learned that fact, Renee felt her heart sink. While it felt ridiculous to be worrying about a cafe when she couldn’t even guarantee her own life or death in this situation, on the other hand, she was seized by a feeling of having lost her identity.

 

She felt as if she had turned into a useless person overnight, and a surge of anxiety swept over her that she might never be able to return.

 

“…Yes, and shortly after opening time today, Lady Maydiland visited the cafe.”

 

At the mention of Ceciana’s name, Renee’s eyes trembled violently.

 

“The reason?”

 

“She left without saying much. She only mentioned that she had intended to attend the banquet but was unable to do so.”

 

“I should meet with her separately.”

 

When Ricard replied in a dry tone, the topic of conversation shifted to something else. But Renee couldn’t follow the rest of the dialogue behind her back.

 

Ricard’s statement that he should meet Ceciana separately stuck in her throat like a sharp thorn.

 

Ricard was not a person who paid attention to or showed consideration for others. It meant he was not one to spend time and energy on just anyone.

 

Yet, he said he would meet her separately.

 

‘Perhaps Ricard has already concluded that I’m the criminal. Maybe in his new wife’s seat, Ceciana will…’

 

Just as Renee was descending into the depths of gloom and despair, falling prey to wild imaginations, the conversation between Ricard and the official ended.

 

The sound of the door closing echoed behind her. Renee squeezed her hands tightly together.

 

She couldn’t even shed tears. Her heart felt as though it had dried up completely.

 

She heard Ricard’s rapid footsteps approaching. Stopping beside the table, he placed his hand on the back of the chair Renee was sitting in, leaning down and lowering his upper body.

 

From him, brought so abruptly close, came the sour smell of sweat. Soon, his familiar personal scent followed.

 

Renee caught her breath despite herself. Reaching his hand toward the table, Ricard lightly tapped the edge of the paper with his index finger. He then dragged it toward himself.

 

“One. The culprit’s name is Hoffman. A servant working in Sainer Castle.”

 

“……”

 

Ricard read the contents of the paper aloud in that familiar, low voice.

 

Hearing it through his voice made it feel strangely real all over again—just how terribly suspicious this text she had written with her own hands actually was.

 

Of course, as the original author who knew the plot, it was natural for her to know the culprit of the upcoming incident, but how could he possibly comprehend this?

 

“Up until I read the first line, I wondered if you simply had a habit of writing down useless daydreams in bed before falling asleep.”

 

“……”

 

“Then, the next part.”

 

Ricard’s finger, which had been resting on the edge of the paper, slid upward. It then pointed to the second line.

 

“Two. Galael procures the lethal poison and hands it to Hoffman.”

 

Pausing mid-sentence as he read the second line, Ricard turned his head halfway to look at Renee.

 

It had been a truly long time since she had faced his face from such a close distance. Perhaps due to the lingering effects of the swordsmanship training he had just finished, his forehead was still slick with sweat, and his cheeks looked hollow, bearing proof that he had lingered between life and death over the past few days.

 

“The moment I saw Galael’s name, I had an intuition that something was wrong.”

 

“……”

 

“Furthermore, lethal poison. It’s a rather drastic topic for a duchess to scribble in her bedroom as a hobby.”

 

“…Your Grace.”

 

Renee squeezed out a voice that barely came out, barely managing to call Ricard. She felt like dropping to her knees and pleading with him to stop.

 

She would rather he grab her by the collar and scream at her to confess the truth. Anything was better than him hiding his true feelings and beating around the bush like this, which was so unlike him.

 

“I will explain.”

 

“No.”

 

Ricard firmly rejected Renee’s urgent plea.

 

“Until I grant permission, you have no right to speak.” he added. That extremely concise sentence felt as though it were gouging out her heart.

 

It was because it made her acutely aware of her current plight. He was excluding any personal emotion between the two of them.

 

“I don’t know what else is going through that tiny head of yours, but you had better behave meekly today.”

 

“……”

 

“I am treating you right now by exercising the absolute greatest patience of my entire life.”

 

Renee ultimately closed her lips and lowered her head. What choice did she have? She was nothing more than a suspect, and Ricard was treating her strictly in accordance with that status.

 

Furthermore, Renee could easily tell that Ricard’s words about treating her with maximum patience were genuine. Because instead of raising his voice or sarcastically displaying his anger as he usually did, he was maintaining an unnervingly calm attitude.

 

The man before her eyes was like a sea right before a storm broke out. It was scarier because it was quiet, and she couldn’t even fathom how deep and dark the emotions he harbored were.

 

“The night two days before the banquet, you requested an audience with me. That day, you out of nowhere asked me if Galael Haksen was also attending the banquet.”

 

Renee replaced her answer with a nod. She wasn’t the only one who recalled that day’s events upon seeing Galael’s name on the paper.

 

“That wasn’t the only day that was odd. A few days before that, when I went to pick you up, you pressed me about what had happened just because I was a few minutes late. You grabbed onto me, stamping your feet while spouting absurd nonsense about whether I had been ambushed on the way.”

 

“……”

 

“Like a crazy person.”

 

Hearing her own past behavior reflected in Ricard’s eyes described through such vivid words made her heart ache.

 

To think that the feelings of concern she had for him were viewed merely as those of a crazy person. Knowing that it was completely understandable from Ricard’s perspective didn’t stop her from feeling endlessly gloomy.

 

Glancing at Renee’s face as she endured this ordeal, trying hard to manage her agonizing feelings, Ricard gave a light shrug.

 

“First, let’s read the next part together.”

 

Unfolding his finger again, he pointed near the middle of the paper.

 

“Three. Hoffman is in charge of managing the wine and whiskey to be used at the banquet, and on the day of the banquet, he is assigned to move around the hall serving liquor to attendees.”

 

“……”

 

“After seeing this sentence, I double-checked with Head Chef Brad. To see what role Hoffman was assigned at the banquet.”

 

Pausing briefly, Ricard broke into a chuckle that was close to a scoff.

 

“No matter how much my position requires me to grasp everything that happens in the castle, I only have one body, so I can’t keep track of what every single servant and staff member is doing on the day of the banquet.”

 

“……”

 

“Well, anyway. Even if I don’t tell you Brad’s answer, you probably already know it. Because he answered exactly as you wrote here.”

 

Perhaps his back hurt from maintaining the same posture for so long; Ricard straightened his bent upper body and stretched side to side. Because of the dire circumstances, Renee reflexively flinched her shoulders at that movement as if sensing a threat, causing Ricard to instantly scowl.

 

“There was one striking part in Brad’s answer—do you want to hear it?”

 

The corners of his mouth curled up. It was a terrifying expression, like a young boy who torments a creature smaller than himself with an innocent face. It had been a truly long time since Ricard had displayed that chilling aura.

 

Renee offered neither confirmation nor denial to his question. She knew all too well that her answer would have zero effect on him.

 

Expectedly, Ricard opened his mouth without caring that Renee hadn’t answered.

 

“Originally, Hoffman’s role was internal management of the banquet hall. He was tasked with clearing trash generated during the banquet and supplying extra tableware or napkins, but he volunteered when a kitchen staff member who was supposed to manage the wine and whiskey went on sick leave.”

 

“……”

 

“I recall Brad’s face as he came to see me while I was in my sickbed, apologizing with a expression like a sinner. He said he shouldn’t have entrusted the duty of managing the liquor to just anyone, claiming it was his own fault.”

 

Listening to Ricard’s words, the image of Brad, who always managed everything happening in the kitchen with a heavy sense of responsibility, came to Renee’s mind as well. Given his nature, it was no surprise he felt as if Ricard’s misfortune were his own fault.

 

“How could that be Brad’s fault?”

 

Ricard acted as if he had read Renee’s inner thoughts.

 

“If we’re assigning responsibility, it’s entirely mine.”

 

However, the words that followed were almost the exact opposite of her thoughts.

 

Because the person blaming herself and feeling remorse was she herself. Ricard was purely the victim.

 

Both Ricard and Brad were carrying uncalled-for regret and guilt over an incident that had occurred like an accident. And that was all her fault.

 

“It’s not Your Grace’s fault…”

 

“Because I allowed a blade to be pointed at me from a place this close.”

 

The moment she heard Ricard’s self-deprecating words, Renee felt her heart drop. It was difficult to even offer the empty comfort that it wasn’t his fault.

 

Because after all, the “place this close” he referred to ultimately meant her—his wife.

 

“Ever since I was born with the blood of the Imperial Emperor, I thought I was constantly on high alert, trusting no one. To think I would be struck like a blind fool.”

 

A vivid mix of betrayal and rage flashed across Ricard’s face. His throat moved unsteadily as he struggled to suppress the intense emotions surging up within him.

 

“Your Grace.”

 

The one who called out to Ricard was Rupert, who had remained quiet until now.

 

“Enough now…”

 

“Stay quiet.”

 

Rupert tried to say something, but Ricard snapped irritatedly, cutting him off.

 

At that cold, aggressive aura, Rupert let out a short sigh as if he had no choice. Shifting his gaze from Ricard to look at Renee for a moment, Rupert’s expression was subtle.

 

“For an investigator, the fellow is far too hasty.”

 

Ricard sneered. Watching Rupert shake his head as Ricard sarcastically emphasized the word “investigator” for some reason, the dynamic between the two seemed somewhat strange for a superior and a subordinate.

 

“We don’t have much time, so let’s get back to the main point.”

 

Just as Renee was about to fall into uneasy thoughts, Ricard spoke again.

 

“Four. The location where Galael instructs Hoffman to hide the poisoned bottle is the bottom shelf of the rightmost corner among the storage spaces in the wine cellar. Behind a large wine barrel made of oak, a small recess is carved into the wall to hide the bottle inside, and the wine barrel is set upright again to cover it.”

 

Hardly had he finished reading the fourth sentence when he burst into a laugh that was close to a snort.

 

“My wife, knowing the structure of the wine cellar so thoroughly that even I barely know it.”

 

“……”

 

“In that case, there are about two possibilities.”

 

Whispering in Renee’s ear, Ricard wrapped his left hand around her shoulder. Even though Renee cowered, he didn’t care and pulled her body roughly toward his.

 

“One. My wife is a hopeless alcoholic who has been sneaking into the wine cellar like a rat behind the servants’ backs to drink her fill.”

 

Ricard’s hand stroked up her shoulder line. Threatening to grab her nape, he teased the skin around her neck.

 

“Two. My wife is an accomplice who plotted with Galael Haksen and Hoffman to murder me.”

 

The word “accomplice,” finally uttered from Ricard’s mouth, pierced sharply into her ears. The moment she heard that word, she felt as though she had lost the last thread of sanity she had been barely holding onto.

 

Ultimately burying her face in both hands, Renee began to gasp softly for breath. Ricard grabbed Renee’s chin, lifting her face to force her to look at him.

 

“Ha, haah…”

 

When Renee continued to gasp heavily, unable to calm down, Ricard narrowed one eye. Lowering his upper body further to match her eye level, he stared intently into her face.

 

He seemed to be checking her condition. Scrutinizing every feature of her face, he wore an ambiguous expression as if he couldn’t help it.

 

“Endure it, even if it’s hard. The end is not far off.”

 

His conclusion was concise. To endure it.

 

Ricard was not a man kind or delicate enough to stop a conversation out of concern for his struggling wife in the first place, but he was even less so now.

 

There was no way a superior commander who paused an interrogation out of consideration for a suspect’s situation existed anywhere in his character settings.

 

Renee nodded with an expression that looked half-devoid of her soul. Ricard, who was tenacious to begin with, was pushing her emotionally without end, and she had long since reached her absolute limit.

 

Her hope of convincing him faded. Instead, she merely wished for this agonizing time to end somehow.

 

Rather than the sense of injustice over having to pay for a crime she didn’t commit, it was the fact that the husband she loved…

 

‘Wait. The husband I love?’

 

Her thoughts came to a abrupt halt, as if her foot had caught on a stone. The moment she unconsciously referred to Ricard as her ‘beloved husband,’ a single tear flowed down Renee’s cheek as if it had been waiting for that exact cue.

 

“Ugh, huff…”

 

Perhaps that single tear was the signal fire, for a burst of sobbing immediately followed. There are things that become starkly clear only once they are named.

 

‘Yes. I love Ricard.’

 

She tried biting her lip, but she couldn’t stop the weeping that leaked through her teeth.

 

‘I’ve been in love with him for some time now.’

 

Even in this very moment where she couldn’t hold back her tears, the absurd realization was recklessly repeating itself without a shred of tact.

 

What on earth could have been the catalyst? For what reason had she come to harbor feelings for a man who did nothing but mock or intimidate her whenever they were together?

 

The past sped through Renee’s mind like a panorama. From their very first meeting, when she fell flat on her face right in front of him after he had just returned from the battlefield, to this exact moment where she was being interrogated as a suspect who attempted to murder him.

 

And among the countless scenes being replayed, what tormented Renee most of all was the fact that she could never truly say Ricard had only mocked or intimidated her.

 

He had let her off the hook multiple times when she babbled nonsensical stories, he had accompanied her on her way home after exhausting work, and at times, he had even shown his raw, unvarnished self—his ears flushing red or a soft smile gracing his lips.

 

It felt as though she could only now vaguely see the heart he had offered her. How much consideration and understanding she had received, and yet how long was the time during which she hadn’t even noticed it?

 

When her thoughts reached this point, she regretted every single moment she had spent with him.

 

How would it have been if she had succeeded in escaping early on, before confronting Ricard? By now, she might have been living comfortably all alone in a remote village in the Nomadic Kingdom via a secretly secured boat.

 

‘But if I had succeeded in running away, I wouldn’t have been able to see those gentle sides of Ricard, would I?’

 

At the thought that rose reflexively, Renee let out a self-deprecating laugh.

 

To be worrying about something like this amidst all this. In this terrible moment where she might be branded a criminal forever and executed, the fact that she had come to realize her feelings for Ricard so vividly felt like an unbelievable lie.

 

In the end, Renee began to laugh through her tears, like someone who had lost her grip on sanity.

 

It was right then.

 

“Seriously. I can’t stand to watch this anymore.”

 

Rupert spat out the words in a harsh tone, abruptly rising from his seat.

 

“Know when to stop, Commander.”

 

Renee’s weeping quieted for a moment.

 

‘What… Commander?’

 

Through Renee’s mind, which had been filled with all kinds of desperate thoughts, a single line of doubt flashed.

 

‘Why is Rupert calling Ricard “Commander”?’

 

Even when sitting opposite her in the interrogation room and interrogating her, he had strictly used the title of “Your Grace, the Archduke.”

 

It was the same on the way here to Ricard’s office in the carriage. Rupert had never used the word “Commander” to refer to Ricard.

 

It was only natural. Because the only people who would address Ricard as Commander were members of the Order of Knights.

 

Renee couldn’t even think to fix her face, which was a mess from tears, as she slowly raised her head. Completely unable to comprehend the unfolding situation, she simply stared at Rupert across from her.

 

As Renee blinked, a single tear that had pooled without falling finally dropped. Seeing that, Rupert wore an immensely troubled expression. He then violently scratched through his own hair.

 

“I don’t believe I ever granted you permission to barge into a conversation between my wife and me as you please.”

 

Ricard chided Rupert without hiding his displeasure. Hearing that, Rupert scowled heavily as well.

 

“Do you call this a conversation between a husband and wife?”

 

Rupert, striking back without backing down, was certainly strange. Was he really a person brave enough to openly rebel against Ricard like that?

 

‘No. Rupert Graven is someone who strictly adheres to organizational hierarchy. He’s courteous even to the lead investigator he’s worked with for 10 years—how dare he talk back to Ricard?’

 

Her head throbbed at the completely contradictory situation.

 

Feeling a headache, Renee closed her eyes long and opened them. Meanwhile, the two men, as if she weren’t even in their sight, were glaring solely at each other, laying their displeasure completely bare.

 

“Answer me. Does this look like a conversation between a husband and wife?”

 

“Shut your mouth.”

 

“‘On the way to the office, since we don’t know who we might run into, treat Madam strictly as a suspect.’ Up to that point, okay, I understood.”

 

“I told you to shut your mouth.”

 

Ricard growled in a low warning, but Rupert did not back down.

 

“However, right now, it’s just the three of us here—you, me, and Madam. So why are you being so harsh on her?”

 

Rupert, questioning him without showing the slightest sign of shrinking back, was undeniably like a different person. The expression transparently revealing his emotions, the distinctly varied pitch of his voice, and the hand gestures mixed in between his words were all entirely different from the appearance he had shown inside the interrogation room.

 

Come to think of it, she had felt a strange inkling from him ever since entering this office. The inexplicably uncomfortable feeling was becoming ever clearer.

 

“Commander, Commander. Have you decided to just act entirely as you please now?”

 

“Yes, Commander. How about we stop this laughable farce right about now?”

 

“Shut the hell up. I don’t want to throw a punch at a face that isn’t yours.”

 

“Dammit. Look at Madam!”

 

The one who raised his hands first in the tense verbal spat was Rupert. Flushing red, unable to hide his intense emotions, he pointed at Renee, who sat piteously, unable to grasp the situation.

 

“Ricard Seiner, look at your wife and see how agonizingly she is crying!”

 

Ricard’s gaze shifted along the tip of Rupert’s finger over to Renee. Only after seeing Renee’s face, ruined and soaked with tears, did Ricard scowl in agony and shut his eyes tightly.

 

Only after a long while did he lift his eyelids again. Bloodshot as if he hadn’t slept a wink for the past few days, his eyes seemed to hold all the fatigue and torment of those days.

 

“Right. I’m always the problem.”

 

Ricard muttered self-deprecatingly in a subdued tone.

 

“Did you only just realize that?”

 

“You really can’t keep that mouth still and keep talking back to the very end, can you? Do you think I’m doing this because I want to torment my wife?”

 

“I know you’re not. Madam is hiding a truth, and Commander needs to hear it. I know you’re pushing Madam because it can’t be delayed any longer—I know it all.”

 

Renee, who had been trying hard not to lose the flow of conversation while looking back and forth between the two men, suddenly let her gaze rest on Rupert. More precisely, on his blue pupils.

 

‘Wait.’

 

Renee recalled Rupert Graven’s face. His appearance when he came to arrest her, and when he sat opposite her in the interrogation room, was…

 

‘Dark brown hair, a businesslike expression. A sturdy build, and reddish-brown eyes…’

 

An expression close to sheer shock surfaced on Renee’s face. The eyes of Rupert visible right now were clearly a deep, ocean blue.

 

“Still, even without such a cruel method, there are plenty of ways to convince Madam.”

 

Rupert, who had been raising his voice at Ricard, met Renee’s eyes. Seeing how confused Renee was, Rupert burst with even greater frustration.

 

“So stop this and reveal the truth already.”

 

“……”

 

“Madam seems to have noticed half of it anyway.”

 

At Rupert’s words, Ricard shifted his gaze back down to look at Renee. Watching her struggle to find her bearings, he let out a helpless sigh.

 

“Damn it. Fine, I get it.”

 

Answering while screwing up all his facial features, Ricard snatched out his hand. He then roughly picked up the paper lying on the table and handed it to Renee.

 

Reaching out to receive the paper in a daze, Renee looked up at Ricard without understanding the reason. Ricard, looking as though he didn’t know where to begin the story, barely opened his mouth.

 

“This paper was found under your bed. You probably guessed this much, since you were the one who hid it there.”

 

Even without knowing the purpose of what Ricard was saying, Renee nodded for now. She desperately wanted him to resolve this confusion as soon as possible. Whatever words were about to come out of his mouth, she wanted to hear them a second sooner.

 

“However, you seem completely unaware of the timing when I found this.”

 

Ricard continued, his expression looking as though he were reminiscing about a recent event.

 

“The morning of the day before the banquet.”

 

Doubt surfaced on Renee’s face. It was because it was difficult to immediately recall the timeframe Ricard was talking about.

 

Seeing her expression, Ricard, judging that a supplementary explanation was needed, added in a clear tone:

 

“I’m talking about the day I went to deliver your mother’s letter to you.”

 

“…Ah.”

 

Only now could she accurately recall when Ricard was talking about. The day Ricard had come to deliver the letter sent by Elizabeth as a reply to the banquet invitation.

 

However, realizing when he was talking about only made her doubts grow deeper. Because on that morning, Ricard had merely teased Renee using the topic of the mysterious ‘good news’ mentioned in Elizabeth’s letter, and had disappeared right after.

 

“That day, I entered your room before you woke up. It was before the morning sun had fully risen, so it must have been late at dawn.”

 

Ricard, as if he already knew what Renee found strange, began adding explanations on his own.

 

“I had no intention of sneaking in—if only that tiny maid of yours hadn’t been lying sideways in front of your door, snoring away.”

 

She was hearing about the events of that day—which she herself didn’t know—through Ricard’s mouth. The maid who was lying sideways and sleeping would, of course, refer to Bonnie.

 

Since she was a girl who had so much sleep in the morning that she would doze off while helping with baths or grooming, it wasn’t surprising to hear she was sleeping on the floor.

 

If there was anything surprising, it was rather Ricard. Why would a man, who wouldn’t be satisfied without barking furious orders at a mere servant who dared to sleep on the floor instead of serving her master, enter her room secretly without waking Bonnie up?

 

“At the time, I simply thought waking up a snoring maid myself was a waste of time, but looking back now…”

 

Ricard trailed off with an expression as if suddenly lost in deep thought. Only after a fairly long silence did he add:

 

“Perhaps I didn’t want to wake her.”

 

For some reason, he suddenly displayed an agonizing look, furrowing his brow. He then continued speaking with a strange facial expression that was neither a scowl nor a smile.

 

“Of course, meaning you, who were asleep.”

 

“…?”

 

His following words were enough to shock Renee. Saying he didn’t want to wake her from her sleep was hardly something that should come out of Ricard’s mouth, was it?

 

“Only when you have your eyes closed and are fallen asleep do you show me…”

 

“……”

 

“…an unguarded side.”

 

What on earth did this mean? Looking at Ricard’s face, which was twisted even more severely this time, Renee tried hard to grasp his inner thoughts, which were terribly difficult to discern.

 

The senses of her body, which had been sharply set on edge ever since entering the office to figure out his intentions, were now twitching sharply in a slightly different context.

 

“Well. These kinds of personal sentiments aren’t important at all in this current situation.”

 

Contrary to how Renee was beginning to fall deeply into his words, Ricard seemed to quickly gather his emotions.

 

Watching him do so, a feeling of sadness—unsuitable for the situation—reared its head. Perhaps it was because his words, which he himself dismissed as unimportant, had struck deeper into Renee’s heart than any other words she had heard today.

 

“Anyway. I accidentally found it in your bedroom, where I visited to deliver your mother’s letter—this paper you had so carelessly hidden under your bed.”

 

Ricard gestured with his eyes toward the paper resting on Renee’s thighs, wearing an expression of absurdity. He then shook his head side to side, raising one corner of his mouth.

 

“Leaving a paper with such staggering contents written on it right under your bed, instead of a safe, an attic of an unused building, or even the inner pocket of the undergarments you’re wearing.”

 

“……”

 

“Judging by your expression, you didn’t even realize when I came to possess this paper.”

 

“Wait a moment.”

 

Renee, who had only been listening to Ricard’s words all this time, barely squeezed out her voice.

 

Ricard closed his mouth with an overbearing look, as if telling her to go ahead and speak, but for some reason, he also looked slightly regretful on the other hand.

 

It didn’t take very long to select the most pressing question out of the countless doubts rising within her.

 

“To summarize what I just heard, Your Grace discovered this paper before the banquet even took place. Am I understanding correctly?”

 

Before Renee’s question could even end, Ricard nodded his head.

 

He closed his lips and looked at Renee, as if telling her to continue if she had more to ask. However, she couldn’t bring out any further questions.

 

It was because her mind had frozen at his answer, which defied all expectations.

 

When Ricard had presented this paper, Renee naturally assumed he had found it during the process of searching her room after the incident had occurred. But to think he had found it even before the banquet was held, let alone before the incident took place.

 

Her mind couldn’t possibly grasp the sequence of events or the cause and effect. Her head grew foggy, as if overloaded.

 

When Renee, giving up on thinking, stared into space with unfocused eyes, Ricard held his forehead with his hand. He too—no, perhaps even more than Renee—looked deeply confused.

 

“It’s a strange thing. Writings detailed as if you had foreseen things that hadn’t even happened yet.”

 

“……”

 

“But do you know what was even stranger than this writing you wrote itself?”

 

Ricard, who had been continually furrowing his brow and holding his forehead, shook his hair irritably.

 

Renee, unable to even guess the words that would follow, shook her head. Ricard continued as a matter of course.

 

“Even though I saw this text the day before the banquet, it didn’t occur to me that you had a hobby of indulging in absurd fantasies using real people, nor did it cross my mind that you had plotted with Galael Haksen and Hoffman to organize a plan to harm me.”

 

Having finished his difficult statement, Ricard closed both eyes tightly. He then paced on the spot for a moment, revealing his complex state of mind.

 

Only after a long while did he open his eyes again, his gaze unfocused just like Renee’s. Staring blankly at somewhere unknown, his gaze felt as though he were looking into his own heart rather than a specific object entering his vision.