I Plan to Repay Kindness with Enmity (1 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 11

Hubert seriously made a barking sound.

“The moment the nanny took the assassin’s blade meant for me, she didn’t even scream. Instead, I still remember clearly how she firmly grabbed my hand and pulled me into your room, hiding me until the guards arrived.”

“…….”

“Ig, the women around me aren’t as strong as you.”

His grip on my hand tightened further. Should I try squeezing back? Even if I couldn’t break his hand, I could probably make him yelp.

I stared intently at his hand, seriously pondering this.

“I’m only frustrated because I’m powerless.”

Hubert brought my hand to his lips and whispered against the back of it.

I frowned inwardly.

‘Why does he keep rubbing his lips against me however he pleases?’

“If I could have offered my own arm instead and kept you safe, I would have done so. But Aris… she wouldn’t be able to endure it with a sound mind.”

“…….”

“You’re the woman I trust. You’re incredibly strong. There’s absolutely no way I’d abandon you over something like this.”

I listened indifferently, but when Hubert’s gaze met mine, I lowered the corners of my eyes pitifully.

Apparently dissatisfied with my reaction, Hubert spoke resolutely.

“If you’d just grant me this one request for my sake, I’ll repay you in kind.”

“…….”

“Even if the whole world condemns you for it.”

He was as serious as a tragic male lead in an opera.

“I won’t hide my feelings for you anymore.”

My eyes widened—not from surprise at Hubert’s words,

‘How could I have been shaken by such words back then? Was I out of my mind?’

I couldn’t understand my past self at all.

Then, suddenly aware of Hubert’s gaze, I snapped back to my senses.

“Give me some time to think.”

Here was the situation:

The Imperial Crown Prince had sent a letter announcing his departure for the kingdom, which included a meaningful phrase: “Please take good care of the Fifth Prince” and “I hope he receives the finest hospitality in accordance with Imperial tradition.”

Imperial tradition for hosting guests.

Even I knew exactly what that meant.

Simply put, it meant: provide a woman of noble blood to entertain my younger brother.

Unlike in my previous life, when I’d accepted Hubert’s proposal, I now felt remarkably at ease.

After all, I knew the Imperial Prince wasn’t as cruel as rumored.

‘In fact, this is exactly what I’d been waiting for.’

The next day, I gave him my answer.

Hubert fell briefly silent, then tightly grasped my hand.

“All my life, from childhood until now, I’ve only ever received help from you. I’ll repay your sacrifice for our house for the rest of my days.”

‘What a fraud.’

If “repaying for the rest of my days” ended up as a guillotine blade, how could it not be fraud?

I carefully concealed my true thoughts and whispered only sweet words to him.

“What wouldn’t I do for House Lorenst?”

“Thank you, Igraine.”

In an instant, I was pulled into his embrace.

Hubert buried his face in my shoulder and whispered,

“I love you. No one else would go this far for me.”

As I heard those words, I secretly yawned behind Hubert’s back.

I wasn’t thinking about his words—but about what would happen a month from now.

In about a month, the Imperial delegation would arrive.

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The desert road toward Riorsa.

People walked silently.

Whooooosh.

The dry sandstorm fluttered the turbans.

“Ugh, this blasted sand.”

Kichef glanced back at the Kingdom’s envoy grumbling behind him and grimaced.

This envoy should have just delivered the tribute and left long ago.

‘It’s not just you I dislike.’

Kichef clenched his teeth, suppressing the urge to yell at the noisy man.

[What about a marriage alliance?]

Roderick’s meaningful voice echoed in his mind, making his teeth grind.

If he himself felt so absurdly furious, how must Giovanni feel—unexpectedly assigned to accompany the delegation?

Kichef spurred his horse forward to the front, where Giovanni was.

Even beneath the dull, protective turban shielding his skin from the desert’s harsh winds, Giovanni radiated the distinctive aura of a ruler.

Kichef was certain that even without the prophet’s grand declarations—“Glory of the Empire,” “Blessed One”—Roderick would still have regarded Giovanni with caution.

‘Anyone could see he was born to be Khan.’

He clicked his tongue in regret.

“How is the Kingdom’s envoy holding up?”

Snapped out of his thoughts by Giovanni’s question, Kichef looked back.

“He’s still grumbling.”

“He mentioned feeling unwell even before we left.”

“He’s suffering from water sickness.”

Kichef added hastily after catching Giovanni’s sharp glance, his earlier gruff tone now subdued.

“It doesn’t seem serious.”

“Tell him to take care of his health. We’re traveling to foster goodwill; it wouldn’t do for the envoy to fall ill.”

“…Yes.”

Kichef’s reluctant reply came with a sullen expression.

“Are you truly unaffected?”

Giovanni’s dark eyes turned to Kichef, his indifferent gaze suggesting even his own marriage held no interest for him.

Kichef’s frustration boiled over.

“Didn’t Your Highness hear it yesterday? The news about the new princess in Riorsa.”

The moment he finally blurted out what he’d kept bottled up, Kichef reflexively thought of Roderick.

Though now Giovanni’s aide, Kichef had originally been a palace slave.

Had Giovanni not recognized Kichef’s strength and character from his days at the bottom and taken him as his aide, Kichef would still be licking Roderick’s boots.

He believed he’d gladly give his life for Giovanni like dust in the wind—yet this had happened.

Last night, after inspecting the horses for the long journey and returning to his quarters—

[Well, if it isn’t Kichef. Where’s your master, leaving you alone like this?] […Kichef Kachin. I’ve met Lord Kun.] [Kneel.]

Kichef knelt with a blank expression.

Though granted a surname by Giovanni and freed from slavery, in Roderick’s eyes, he would forever remain a slave.

He could have resisted—but fearing repercussions for Giovanni, Kichef obeyed without protest.

While Kichef knelt, Roderick spent a long while idly chatting with his companion.

Knowing Roderick intended to humiliate him as much as possible, Kichef didn’t even blink.

[Ah, right. Kichef, don’t forget to take my gift before you depart tomorrow.] [A gift, my lord?] [Yes. I hear the King of Riorsa has a new daughter. It’s a congratulatory present.]

In royal houses, where many heirs were prized, late-born children weren’t uncommon.

But—

[How delighted he must be, gaining such a grown daughter at his age! Given our relations with the Kingdom, this certainly warrants celebration.]

As he passed the stiff Kichef, Roderick murmured quietly,

[That little kingdom isn’t half bad, is it?]

At a time when talk of a political marriage was circulating, the King of Riorsa suddenly acquiring a new princess.

‘What that implies is…’

Kichef stared at Giovanni.

He genuinely couldn’t comprehend how Giovanni remained so calm despite knowing the truth.

The Glory of the Empire, blessed by the gods—

Perhaps someone divinely crafted like Giovanni was naturally beyond the understanding of ordinary men like himself.

But even so, how could he be so indifferent about his own marriage?

Kichef worried immensely that Giovanni, ever detached and apathetic, might simply accept this matter without protest.

‘Even if His Highness lets it go, I won’t stand by. That so-called precious princess of Riorsa—some unknown woman, who knows where she’s crawled from! If she dares pull such a stunt, she must be a cunning veteran. If things go awry, I’ll handle her myself…’

Cruel thoughts swirled in his mind.

As Kichef plotted how to humiliate the despicable Riorsa royal family and their scheming accomplice, a calm voice reached his ears.

“There’s no need for that, Kichef.”

Kichef, frozen-faced, blinked once. Giovanni lifted the corners of his thin lips.

“Your expression is quite something.”

“Your Highness, I—”

“I know what you’re worried about.”

His characteristically indifferent gaze swept over the desert ahead.

Though Kichef trusted and followed this lord above all others, Giovanni’s distant, vacant stare—as if gazing toward the desert’s end—made Kichef unconsciously tighten his grip on the reins.

“Roderick’s schemes are tiresome.”

“…….”

“But I don’t like being deceived.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have no intention of marrying some unknown woman.”

The firmness in his voice melted Kichef’s anxiety like snow in sunlight.

“The wind is dying down. Let’s hurry.”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

Kichef replied brightly and energetically.

Was this how it felt when a long-aching tooth was suddenly pulled? The scorpion stings in his gut instantly cooled.

Kichef’s eyes, fixed on Giovanni’s back, blazed like the sun.

‘Yes. Of course—His Highness isn’t the type to accept defeat so meekly!’

But this wasn’t the end.

Though Giovanni had declared he wouldn’t marry, Kichef had no intention of letting it go.

His resentment toward the Riorsa royal family—and especially the woman suddenly made a princess for this marriage—had already peaked before even reaching the kingdom.

‘She’ll pay dearly for daring to mock His Highness.’

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Late at night, the Lorenst mansion was silent.

Outside, the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind could be heard, but inside the mansion, it was deathly quiet.

Clack.

Viscount Lorenst set his teacup onto its saucer and cleared his throat loudly.

“When is the delegation’s welcome banquet?”

Hubert, who had been focused on savoring his tea with his chin slightly raised, replied,

“The day after tomorrow. The delegation arrived just hours ago, so they’ll rest today, have a private audience with His Majesty tomorrow, and the banquet will run for a week afterward.”

Madam Emern’s eyes widened.

“A whole week? Such extravagance for mere barbarians.”

She then sucked on her fingers, glistening from the buttery cookie she’d just eaten. Hubert watched her with his usual look of disdain and replied coldly.