Chapter 113. If You Want to Shut My Mouth

2024.01.21.

Large, burly servants brought from the Empress’s Palace made their way toward Pelliese’s pride—the study room.

Unlike Priscilla, who raged and cursed at Yuan for bringing outsiders back to the estate, Count Gerret Pelliese was overjoyed just to have Yuan within the Pelliese mansion and rushed down barefoot.

“At last! At last you’ve come to your senses, Yuan!”

“Get out! Get out right now! What is this? Bursting in without so much as a word!”

“D, did you sort things out properly with His Highness Bollonico? Hm?”

“You don’t even know you’re disgracing the family! What makes you think you can crawl back here? Do you have any idea how scandalous your reputation has become?”

“Damn it, Priscilla! Shut that cursed mouth of yours!”

When the Count shouted fiercely at his wife, the entire mansion fell silent instantly.

Ignoring his wife, who stood frozen with eyes wide as if they might pop out after being publicly berated in front of Yuan and the servants, he tightly grasped Yuan’s hands with both of his.

It was truly remarkable that he had held on this long without Yuan.

Recalling how he had written endless letters, bribing the secret mercenary Giyotelle and even the Empress’s Palace maids with money—despite their meager finances, except for the dowry Clade had given—brought tears to his eyes.

Now, the hardship was over!

“You must’ve had a tiring journey. Let’s see… should I show you your room first?”

“I didn’t come all this way to see some room even a servant wouldn’t use.”

When Yuan coldly retorted, the Count simply smiled and gripped her hand even tighter, pulling her along.

“Ahem! Nephew. Do you think your uncle would cause such a fuss just to show you some dusty old room? I’ve been waiting for the day you’d return, decorating your room beautifully. Steward!”

“Yes, my lord!”

“While we’re upstairs, sweep through and make sure not a single speck of dust remains!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Housekeeper! What are you just standing there gawking for? Hurry up and take the young lady’s coat, then bring out some comfortable indoor slippers!”

“Y-yes, y-yes—”

The housekeeper replied while cautiously watching Priscilla’s expression.

“Quickly, let’s go to your room—”

“Her room? What room? AAAAAH!!”

Priscilla’s shrill scream echoed through the first-floor lobby.

After her husband’s outburst, she had trembled at every word he said, but the moment the Count mentioned the forbidden phrase—“Yuan’s room”—she reacted violently.

Clenching her bony fists and squaring her shoulders, she flipped her eyes halfway back and forcefully shoved away the Count’s hand gripping Yuan’s arm.

Where such terrifying strength came from in her frail body startled even the Count himself.

Gerret Pelliese wasn’t the only one agonizing over the dwindling storerooms.

Priscilla’s blood dried up completely every time she balanced the books—tormented by her husband’s reckless spending of gold and the monthly profit distributions to investors.

The only thing plugging the gaping hole in their finances had been the dowry sent by the exiled prince—so what now? What would happen if Yuan Pelliese returned to the estate after leaving him?

“Have you lost your mind? What are you doing here? Did you even get permission from your husband to come to the capital? Or did you actually commit adultery and get divorced?”

“Is that even important right now? Can’t you see she’s come home after months?”

“There’s no home here without parents! Get back to Roxenhardt right now! The fact that you’re still alive is only because your husband is merciful! If he decides to demand his dowry back, do you think you can handle that? Hm?”

“What dowry?”

The temperature in the lobby, which had been boiling like a pot about to erupt, instantly chilled.

Even Priscilla, who had been fuming, and the Count, who had just decided to scold his wife further, were forced to turn toward Yuan’s icy voice.

Yuan’s dark gaze swept across the mansion—more opulent than before, not a single space left empty or neglected.

Her solemn, cold presence felt so natural, even intimidating.

The couple, overwhelmed by the change in Yuan’s demeanor, exchanged glances. In that silence, Yuan’s voice cut through once more.

“You received a dowry from Roxenhardt?”

The marriage had been without a dowry.

She had assumed that even without a wedding ceremony, proper legal procedures would have been followed since it was a union between the imperial family and a noble house.

Given Clade’s condition, she hadn’t expected anyone to demand a dowry—and had thought Clade’s side wouldn’t mind not paying one either.

Actually, this was the first time Yuan had even considered the existence of a dowry—but now she was thinking.

But had Clade actually paid a dowry to this household?

Her blood ran cold.

Yuan knew better than anyone the financial state of the impoverished Black Mansion.

She had briefly looked over its ledgers and understood exactly how small the flow of money had been.

What if that hyena-like uncle had decided to force an annulment between Yuan and Clade and demanded the dowry?

And what if Clade had agreed, paying the full amount by draining his personal funds or even opening Marquis Rev’s storerooms?

“Tell me.”

“Tell you? What kind of way is that to speak? And since when do we return money we didn’t receive? Do you have any idea how much we spent raising you and your sister?”

“How much?”

“What—what?”

Yuan stepped forward toward Priscilla, whose anger flared instantly.

Before the Count could thrust his arm between them, Yuan snarled sharply.

“How much did you extort from him?”

“How dare you look me straight in the eye and—!”

Startled by Yuan’s ferocity, Priscilla raised her bony hand high.

But it never reached Yuan. This time, it wasn’t Gerret Pelliese who stopped her.

“Mother, stop!”

The shrill cry came from the second-floor landing.

It was Regina, who had been silently watching the confrontation.

She was already uneasy, her anxiety swelling like a balloon at Yuan’s unprecedented confidence.

Regina’s instincts flashed a warning signal—do not provoke Yuan Pelliese now.

“At least tell us why you suddenly came to our house!”

Regina shouted.

The Count narrowed his eyes, thinking he’d have to properly teach these two women about the etiquette owed even to family, but Yuan’s face softened slightly at Regina’s demand.

Yuan’s gaze turned toward the servants descending the stairs, carrying bundles of books from the study.

“I came to collect my belongings.”

“What? You’re not returning home?”

“I’ll soon be departing south to attend the Empress. I only came to pack some things. Have all the books I mentioned been gathered?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Load them onto the baggage cart.”

The servants bowed deeply and left. The Count, suddenly deprived of his study’s books, asked dumbfoundedly:

“What—what are you taking? You really are coming back, right? Hm? After returning from the south, you’ll stay here, won’t you?”

“Why pack my things here!”

Ignoring her uncle and aunt’s voices one after another, Yuan slowly crossed the lobby and ascended the stairs.

The entire family’s gaze followed her as she passed Regina, whose eyes widened in shock at the mention of attending the Empress in the south, and climbed to the third floor.

But Yuan ignored every single one of those stares as she entered the hallway.

Sensing something strange, Regina followed right behind Yuan, accompanied by the housekeeper.

The room Yuan entered so naturally was Regina’s bedroom—the very room Yuan had used as her own for ten years before being stripped of it.

Regina entered the room with growing unease.

She was met by the sight of Yuan Pelliese, holding the letter box she had hidden under her bed, smiling.

“I came to retrieve my things, Regina.”

It was the box containing Lady Louise Pelliese’s correspondence.

***

Yuan, about to firmly close the massive golden carriage door, narrowed her eyes at her uncle, who came stumbling out barefoot, still wearing indoor slippers.

Dazed, he desperately gripped the door with his thick hand, preventing Yuan from closing it and leaving.

“What will you do if you just leave like this? You have to give me a definite answer! After the Empress’s matter is settled, you’ll return home, right? Hm?”

“Uncle.”

Gerret Pelliese’s face lit up instantly at that single word, despite sweating coldly in his urgency.

“Yes, yes, Uncle’s here. What is it? Should I have something prepared? Should I call a tailor or a jeweler? If you’d just properly inform me when you’re coming, I’d search the entire capital to bring you artisans rivaling the royal court’s!”

“Return the dowry to the exiled prince.”

“…What?”

Yuan’s pale face, devoid of even a hint of jest, left no room for misunderstanding. The Count tilted his head, forcing a laugh as if doubting his own ears.

“What did you say?”

“The full amount you received. Return it.”

Gerret Pelliese had reached his limit.

A surge of rage welled up from deep within his chest, as if all his past suffering had been dumped into a cesspool. A roar finally burst from his lips.

“How dare you speak to me like this! After all I’ve done for you, bending over backward! Are you really—! You ungrateful brat, how dare you—!”

“Otherwise, I might tell my sharp-tongued aunt and Frederic at the military academy about your loose lips.”

“Oh, go ahead! Say whatever you want! I won’t just stand by!”

“The seal of this family was handed over to Prince Bollonico Firstborn, wasn’t it?”

At Yuan’s cold reply,

all color drained from Count Gerret Pelliese’s oily face.