135. Breaking

2024.02.12.

She glared at the smirking Lancelot as if she wanted to kill him, then left for the entrance with her pale-faced nanny. Midway, she squared her shoulders, whirled around, and shouted.

“No matter how much you pressure me! I will never return to the capital! Right now, it’s you who should be clinging to my feet and begging!”

“Do other people even know the Grand Duchess Ariesta is such a talkative person?”

“……Eddie.”

Apparently realizing she couldn’t reason with Lancelot, Ariesta called out to Eddie. Eddie folded the newspaper he was reading and looked up at her over his glasses.

“If he’s not going to attend parties for the rest of the social season, tell Clade to make sure he participates in the swordsmanship tournament.”

Before Lancelot could frantically protest, Eddie cut him off. Adjusting his glasses calmly, he asked quietly.

“Why?”

“I want him to win and place a wreath on my head.”

“That soggy pigeon, the moment he hears this— Ugh! Mmm!!”

“I’ll deliver the message.”

Ariesta smiled brightly, as if she had finally gotten through to someone.

Her clear, watery eyes blinked, sending a cryptic glint of triumph toward Lancelot, whose mouth was now clamped shut by Eddie’s hand.

Once Ariesta disappeared with her nanny, Lancelot, freed from restraint, shot to his feet.

“Argh! That fox-faced girl with the head of a soggy pigeon! Friend? Fri-end? And what, a wreath? A wreeeeeeeath?”

“Sit down, Lancelot.”

“How long are you going to seriously listen to that pigeon cooing? I only listen when someone makes sense! It’s annoying enough that she’s flaunting herself in front of me, now she’s ordering Clade around? Eddie, just because you’re accepting it doesn’t make it right!”

“Then should I kick away a pumpkin that rolled right into my lap?”

Eddie replied coldly.

“Do you think Ariesta asked Clade to join the tournament for no reason? The moment he wins and places the wreath on her, the scandal between Ariesta and Clade becomes unavoidable. Do you understand what that means?”

“I don’t care! It’s just another trick to get close to Clade!”

“For the imperial family to lower their guard, Clade must appear as the reckless, disgraced crown prince. But what comes after? To gather power, Clade needs to do something worth following. What do you think people will think if he wins the tournament and places the wreath on Ariesta?”

“They’ll think Clade is strong and that things might work out between him and Ariesta.”

“Exactly.”

Eddie stared calmly at the fuming Lancelot.

“Logically, it makes no sense for someone locked away for ten years to win a swordsmanship tournament. But we know, don’t we? We know he’s strong.”

“Compared to tournaments in the capital, this one’s a step below, right? Those who come here from the capital are usually chasing some title. People like Gumnus Yotpa, trying to redeem their ruined reputations. Even passing the preliminaries might be something the imperial court would overlook.”

“That’s precisely the point.”

“The point?”

“Clade must win. We’ll make sure he doesn’t face the strongest opponents from the start. Luckily, Federico Companni, the host, is favorable toward us. We just need to pair Clade with weaker opponents, make his victory seem inevitable, and secure his win. Clade has trained since he was seven under the finest masters of the Euphris family. Given a stroke of luck, winning a tournament of this level won’t seem entirely impossible. It’s been several months since he was freed from the curse, and he’s had time to recover. Besides, he’s royalty. Who would dare challenge a prince favored by the Emperor?”

“So then what? Are we just supposed to stand by and watch him place the victor’s wreath on that soggy pigeon’s head?”

“And what if we don’t stand by?”

Eddie glared coldly at the agitated Lancelot. Lancelot, who had been charging forward, froze.

“Clade is currently a divorced man entangled in scandals with countless women. If such a Clade places a wreath on Ariesta’s head, what do you think people will assume?”

Lancelot had a sudden flash of insight but kept his mouth shut. Eddie, as if reading his mind, spoke.

“Won’t it seem like the reckless, disgraced crown prince has reunited with his first love and decided to turn his life around?”

“What about the Emperor then? Isn’t it dangerous for Clade to radiate such a reformed image right under the watchful eyes of Empress Marilyn? And with the Empress present, the former crown princess would naturally be by her side—”

The unspoken words—how spectacular it would be if Yuan Pelliese saw this—vanished under Eddie’s icy gaze.

Eddie smoothly continued, as if there were no further plans to discuss.

“The situation changes if Clade’s interest is Ariesta.”

Eddie looked visibly relieved.

“Ariesta, once full of promise, has been abandoned in the empire, entangled in scandals with two of its most notorious men. Who is to blame?”

“……The Emperor. Yes, the Emperor.”

No matter how they pretend otherwise, don’t they know?

It was Emperor Igor’s sword that turned Clade into this.

And because Clade became a monster, Ariesta broke off their engagement.

Then, even with Bollonico, whom she later began seeing, things stalled for some unknown reason.

If the Emperor hadn’t strongly opposed it, there would’ve been no reason for them not to proceed.

Whether the Empress approves or not isn’t particularly important.

The Emperor needs the rising power of Grand Duke Drietter, yet he doesn’t want to empower him further.

If Bollonico becomes the Grand Duke’s sword, who’s to say he won’t one day turn against the Emperor?

“Grand Duke Drietter came to the capital to decide Ariesta’s fate. And Ariesta left the capital for the south. Do you think the Grand Duke didn’t know? The Grand Duke understands. The Emperor’s power relies on the strength of the north. What happens if Ariesta, destined to endlessly wait for a royal proposal like a dog chasing chickens, suddenly becomes entangled in a scandal with Clade?”

“Never! Not while I’m still breathing!”

“But what if, driven by youthful passion, they cross the line? Then neither the Grand Duke nor the Emperor can stop them. There’s a narrative here. A tragic love story—beloved lovers torn apart by outside forces. If Ariesta just keeps showing how desperately she wants Clade, imperial suspicions become meaningless. It’s not because Clade wants her, but because Ariesta wants Clade. And behind Ariesta stands the now-irreversibly powerful Grand Duke Drietter.”

As long as Ariesta stays by Clade’s side.

Clade is safe.

Feeling that terrifying premise seep into his skin, Lancelot’s face turned pale.

“If an accident forces the Grand Duke’s hand, dissolving Clade’s divorce from Yuan Pelliese and marrying Ariesta would be swift and seamless. Ariesta is betting everything. She knows, regardless of her feelings, that failing to marry Bollonico leaves her with no other suitable match. No one would want to take Ariesta as a bride and end up caught between the Emperor and the Grand Duke.”

Lancelot’s legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the sofa.

Eddie, as if his calculations were already complete, instructed the servants not to block Ariesta’s access to the townhouse from now on.

Lancelot’s trembling eyes turned toward Clade’s bedroom on the second floor.

“Did Clade agree to this?”

“…….”

“I know your plan seems flawless. I understand it’s the safest way to build influence. But.”

“…….”

“……Did you see Clade’s face during the welcoming ceremony?”

Eddie’s calm expression, which had remained unshaken no matter what was said, flickered slightly.

In the quiet space, several servants passed by, carrying multiple bottles of alcohol up to Clade’s room. The tray was packed full.

All of it was what Clade had been drinking since the welcoming ceremony.

Lancelot broke the silence, watching the servants disappear down the second-floor corridor.

“I know he’s up to something—those veiled women constantly coming and going from his room. But he’s ignoring every invitation, locking himself away without calling for us. Why do you think that is?”

“What? You think it’s because we didn’t tell him Yuan Pelliese is in the south?”

Lancelot quickly cut off Eddie’s retort.

“He saw the crown princess at the welcoming ceremony. He was suddenly face-to-face with the woman he’d been desperately avoiding, without any warning or preparation.”

Lancelot recalled how Clade, who had initially intended to avoid Gumnus Yotpa, deliberately approached him to greet him—then immediately kicked him.

Clade had always planned to be branded a troublemaker in southern high society, yet his face, usually so composed, now carried an inexplicable urgency.

It was clearly the face of someone being chased.

Whether by a horrific nightmare or a cruel reality, it was the face of someone pursued by things that no longer belonged in his life.

While the Rev brothers arrived late and escorted Ariesta around, Clade acted as if he were addicted to some terrible drug.

Had Empress Marilyn not left the party early, Clade would have faced punishment with no excuse.

“I’m afraid now. I know Clade or you, Eddie, must each have some brilliant plan. And it’s probably progressing steadily, right?”

“…….”

“I don’t wish for happiness in this situation, but it’s troubling to see Clade crumbling from the inside.”

“Lancelot.”

“And if, as you say, Clade luckily wins the swordsmanship tournament and, in front of everyone, ignores the crown princess and places the wreath on Ariesta……”

Lancelot muttered painfully.

“I can’t stop thinking—the one who’ll break won’t be the crown princess, but Clade.”

The space where the Rev brothers stood fell into a silence as deep and distant as the abyss.

The quiet moment passed in an instant.

Dawn had broken. The morning of the swordsmanship tournament had arrived.