57. Since I Can’t Love You, I’ll Do This Instead

2023.11.26.

A faint trace of disappointment spread across Marquis Rev’s eyes, which had been filled with anticipation.

But this was already more than he could have hoped for.

Had it not been for an excuse related to Yuan, he wouldn’t have even dared to broach such words with his nephew.

The mere fact that Clade said, “I’ll think about it,” carried great meaning.

It was proof that Clade had finally begun envisioning a better future in his mind.

For a long while, Marquis Rev watched Clade’s hands busily working through the piles of paperwork before him, as if pushing intrusive thoughts aside.

There, densely packed, was the blueprint for Rocksenhart, the commercial city that might be realized far earlier than Clade had initially anticipated.

There were some things impossible to hide, no matter how hard one tried to deny them.

“My happiness is the same.”

Marquis Rev lowered his face, hiding his deeply moved expression.

“To feed my family well, to dress them in fine clothes, to show them beautiful things… After the late Empress passed, my happiness became solely this—exactly the kind Your Highness used to mock not long ago.”

Clade’s quill paused briefly, then resumed its swift movement.

“In hindsight, even such happiness was beyond reach.”

“Here we go again. You’ll start reciting your lines now. You have moments when you speak as if I truly look happy.”

“At the very least, you don’t appear unhappy.”

“……”

“The fact that you’re even thinking about the future is moving to me.”

Clade abruptly slammed down his quill.

Let Marquis Rev stare at him with those glistening eyes—he didn’t care.

Crossing his arms, he glared at the painkillers before him for a long moment, then ripped open one packet and swallowed it with cold water.

“…Since I can’t love you, I have no choice but to do this instead.”

Clade offered the marquis his usual twisted, dark smile.

His large hand tightly clenched the painkiller packet, as if trying to crush it—still not enough, even after swallowing it whole.

***

To the young maids who could only dream of the grand debutante ball soon to be held at the palace, the news Marquis Rev casually dropped on his way out—“A debutante ball at the Marquis’s estate”—was no less than a bombshell.

“Madam. You truly trust me completely?”

“Monica, you always insist on acting so proper. You can’t even braid hair well—what makes you think you can prepare the mistress?”

“You handle those petty chores yourself, Hena! High-grade personnel like me are meant only to give orders, aren’t I, Canary?”

“You, with your clumsy hands? You nearly missed curfew yesterday just gossiping at the dressmaker’s. The butler knows you’re slacking off using the mistress as an excuse.”

The maids were in the midst of heated argument inside the reception room, where Butler Gustav had urgently summoned dressmaker Michelle. Yuan sat among them, dazed and silent.

Even as Michelle and Monica seriously debated the details—her headpiece, her neckline, re-measuring the dimensions she had taken only days ago—Yuan felt as if she were dreaming.

“I’m already married… What meaning does a debutante ball hold? And His Highness actually permitted such a lavish event?”

“Marquis Rev himself said so, Madam. You’re attending as an honored guest. You need only mingle among the young ladies and enjoy yourself. He specifically said not to feel pressured.”

Butler Gustav replied gently.

One after another, pure white organza, peach, and soft pink silk were draped around Yuan’s neck and shoulders, then unfolded again.

It was the maids, not Yuan, who were truly excited. Hena, glancing furtively at the dazed Yuan, quickly stepped forward and whispered.

“Madam, if His Highness is being kind, just accept it gratefully. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance. You skipped the wedding—this much is fine!”

Yuan barely lifted the corners of her lips into a faint smile and slowly nodded. But as Hena’s gaze returned to the fabrics, her expression darkened once more.

‘Could it be that His Highness sees Princess Apollini in me?’

Otherwise, she couldn’t fathom why he continued to treat her so well despite showing no real interest.

No man ever hosts a debutante ball for a married woman.

Well, she didn’t know for sure, but surely such a thing didn’t exist.

Princess Apollini, who had been the same age as Yuan, would have been precisely at the age now to be preparing busily as the main guest of honor at the palace debutante ball.

‘Maybe he sees Princess Apollini in you, Madam.’

‘You two have similar auras, and you’re the same age.’

Hena’s bright face, cheerfully selecting pearls for the dress, overlapped with a memory from that day.

Yes. What did the reason matter?

What mattered was living together as family in this household.

‘If I think of it as gaining an older brother too… Then that’s enough.’

Her heart, which had suppressed Clade’s pain, throbbed with sharp ache.

Yuan barely managed a faint smile on her pale, ashen face and joined the maids fussing over the fabrics.

—Thud.

“M-Madam!”

“Madam! This handkerchief—!”

Two or three bright red drops of blood fell onto the white organza.

“What?”

Yuan quickly caught the blood with her hand.

An unexpected nosebleed.

“No wonder I said you’ve been overworking lately! I can’t bear it!”

Hena, looking distressed, hurriedly brought more cloth to wipe with.

Yuan, surprised herself, forced a smile to reassure the maids.

“You’re right. I should’ve listened to you more, Hena.”

“You shouldn’t ride with the water-carrying cart early in the morning after barely sleeping!”

Though on the surface, Yuan’s daily visits to the small chapel were explained as going out for fresh air and prayer, the truth was different.

Every night, absorbing the pain meant to preserve Clade’s pristine face took a heavy toll.

Unable to loudly release the remaining agony in her own room, Yuan had no choice but to head early in the morning to the empty cemetery of the chapel.

Under the pretense of tending to Oliver’s grave, she screamed there, releasing the pain lingering in her body.

She timed it carefully—between when the maids left to fetch water and before the priests arrived at the chapel.

“You must be truly exhausted. Helping with the caravan business, and now preparing for the debutante ball too. Is your heart feeling unsettled?”

“Yes, perhaps you’re right.”

Yuan affirmed Hena’s worried question.

Canary and Monica, who had been silently observing, chimed in with suggestions.

“Why not visit the cemetery at the Marquis’s estate? You always feel better after going there. It’s been quite a while since your last visit two weeks ago.”

“Good idea. While you’re at it, you could also take a look around the jewelers in the Marquis’s estate. It’ll give you a break from work, especially since you need to give Hile some distance.”

Yuan slowly nodded under the maids’ persistent urging.

“It’s about time I went. Thank you for caring, Hena. And you too, Canary and Monica.”

***

Count Garrett Pelliese had greatly suffered during the past week of carriage travel.

Lying comfortably in a luxurious four-horse carriage and stopping at every village along the way had turned what could’ve been a 3-4 day journey into an endlessly delayed ordeal.

Completely ignoring the irritated gaze of secret agent Kiyotel, Count Pelliese stared intensely at the sign posted outside every large merchant house in each village:

Finally arriving near the cemetery of the Marquis Rev family.

Lacking the courage to boldly ride his carriage all the way up to the modest hill where the cemetery lay—despite having no real reason not to—Count Pelliese deliberately parked an unmarked hired carriage at the foot of the path leading up to the gravesite and began observing whether anyone came or went.

“If she comes once every two weeks, she should be here soon. I timed this well. It’ll be any day now.”

At first, the count had energetically lurked for days, commuting daily from an inn in a nearby village. But by the third day, his face had grown weary, and he stared listlessly out the window with eyes like rotten codfish.

Since only family members would visit the Rev family cemetery, there wasn’t even a single ant passing by outside.

As his body grew uncomfortable, the count briefly entertained the reckless idea of simply ordering Kiyotel, who sat on the driver’s seat, to kidnap Yuan instead—when suddenly, the ground trembled violently beneath the thundering hooves of approaching horses. Startled, the count hastily pulled his hat down and peered through the window crack.

“!”

A golden four-horse carriage, clearly visible from afar. And not just that—glittering with jewels embedded at the tips of every raised ornament…

“B-Bollonico?”

First Prince Bollonico Euphris.

The one person Garrett Pelliese absolutely must not meet was coming to this remote cemetery.

***

The black mansion’s carriage, which had left the estate early in the morning, entered the Marquis’s territory by lunchtime.

At the cemetery, where Yuan stepped in holding a bouquet of wildflowers she had woven herself, an unexpected guest had already arrived.

“Glory be to the great Euphris.”

“Ah, Sister-in-law—.”

It was First Prince Bollonico, whom she had briefly met at the recent wedding anniversary party.

Receiving a chrysanthemum bouquet from a pale-faced attendant, Prince Bollonico greeted her warmly, as if they were close.

He stood before the nameless tombstone of her elder sister, Louise Pelliese.

“I was just looking around, wondering about the story behind this nameless stone here. And you, Sister-in-law?”

“…I came to pay respects at the graves of the late Emperor and Empress, Your Highness.”

“To do what even a son won’t do…”

First Prince Bollonico drew his brows together appreciatively and placed the chrysanthemum bouquet before Louise’s stone.

Yuan felt cold sweat on her palms, clenching her fists tightly as she waited for him to finish his brief prayer.

“You must feel very suffocated.”

Soon, Bollonico’s voice, eyes still closed, coiled around her ear like a snake.

“At such a young age. Married to such a monster. An unwanted union. No matter how hard you try to distract yourself with other matters, doesn’t the unchanging reality fill you with despair?”

“?”

“Bollonico has a good proposal for you, Sister-in-law.”

First Prince Bollonico’s sharp, high nose pointed straight ahead. Then, his icy blue eyes darkened as they fixed upon her.

“How about taking Bollonico’s hand and stepping into the light?”

“…What do you mean?”

“To become Bollonico’s person.”

Bollonico’s person.

‘Has he been referring to himself by his own name this whole time?’

Yuan didn’t miss the cold, condescending blue gaze looking down at her, her eyes a mix of wariness and bewilderment.