Stolen Crown Princess (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 7

Liurian’s appearance was unmistakably threatening. Yet Rayton didn’t so much as flinch.

Just as the Crown Prince had pointed out, Rayton refused to lower his gaze—loyal and steadfast to some, merely insolent to others.

Only upon sensing the ominous atmosphere did Ibelia barely manage to collect herself.

“Your Highness, may I ask what brings you all the way here?”

Ibelia quickly interjected, stepping in front of Rayton. If Rayton was the one unsettling Liurian, she decided it was best to remove him from sight, however briefly.

But the moment she stood before Rayton, Liurian’s expression grew even colder.

“So the Crown Princess’s quarters are a place I may visit only with a reason? Or perhaps I’ve interrupted a private moment between the two of you?”

“…….”

“Since you can’t answer, it seems you truly were sharing a tender moment with your guard.”

He sneered, twisting the corners of his mouth.

For an instant, Ibelia’s breath caught in her throat. Her lower lip trembled, and her stomach churned.

Reflected in her tear-filled eyes were his mocking expression and the servants glancing furtively between her and Rayton.

Half of them looked at her as if she were something unclean; the other half regarded her with pity.

The moment she realized this, Ibelia wished she could bite her tongue off and die from the overwhelming shame.

Suddenly, she recalled another day when he had come to the Crown Princess’s quarters just like today.

[You dared to reprimand my Lellia? You humiliated her thoroughly in front of other young ladies. My Lellia, of all people.] [I’d prefer you stay within the Crown Princess’s quarters as much as possible. For now, I don’t wish to see even a single hair of yours.]

Furious, he had stood right before her, openly defending Lellia in front of all the servants as if it were only natural.

And that wasn’t all. He’d subtly conveyed how repulsive he found her, deliberately humiliating her before her own subordinates—all because she’d mildly reprimanded Lellia a few days prior for overstepping her bounds.

Back then, too, she’d endured the same pitying glances and resentful stares for supposedly provoking discord.

Ibelia exhaled the breath she’d been holding and slowly blinked. She calmly faced the thought that had instinctively surfaced—and strangely, her heart quickly stilled.

As if by silent agreement, her spine straightened, and her gaze toward him hardened with hostility.

“You came here because you had business with me, didn’t you?”

“Business. Business, you say…”

Liurian trailed off dismissively at her changed demeanor. Yet Ibelia met his eyes without wavering.

It felt as if she’d returned to her self from a year ago—the Ibelia Caroline who had been unnaturally resolute, unmoved by such petty mockery.

“Yes. That’s right. I did come to deliver a message to you.”

“…….”

“But it seems the servants of the Crown Princess’s quarters—and even your guard—have forgotten their duties, so I thought I’d personally restore order here.”

Liurian murmured in an icy tone, forcefully curling his lips to fully reveal his twisted irritation.

He was always like this—letting his mood dictate his behavior, taking out his frustrations on servants over trivial matters.

Usually, it was the Crown Prince’s own servants who bore the brunt; today, it seemed, it was hers.

But Ibelia had no intention of letting him proceed unchecked.

“They are my people. Leave what must be done to me, and please attend to the matter that originally brought you here, Your Highness.”

Ibelia stated her will clearly and firmly.

It was the first time she had openly defied Liurian’s wishes.

She saw his expression grow even more rigid at her words, yet she neither retreated nor regretted her actions.

No matter how many times she thought it over, this was the right course. She alone would protect her own people.

“Didn’t you say you had something to tell me?”

Ibelia clasped her hands respectfully before her and lowered her gaze appropriately. Her manner toward the Crown Prince was utterly devoid of embellishment.

If there was any issue, it was that her courtesy toward him was excessively stiff—and she maintained that rigidity with razor precision.

“So it seems it’s not only the servants and guards who’ve forgotten their duties.”

Liurian spat the words as if chewing them, his mood inexplicably foul.

Though countless things about her grated on him, what irritated him most was Ibelia standing protectively before her arrogant guard.

It was as if she feared he might do something to her guard—as if, in her eyes, her husband ranked even lower than a mere knight.

His jaw clenched. Unnameable fury coiled through his entire body.

Her entire demeanor—from head to toe—had been shaped by Liurian Petrov himself.

Thus, dismantling this solid, immense barrier standing between him and her was a task he absolutely had to resolve, by any means necessary.

He knew. He understood perfectly. Yet despite that knowledge, he couldn’t seem to rein in his emotions.

Liurian drew a sharp breath and tightly clenched both fists. With that alone, he grimly endured the tempest of feelings raging within, and moved his stone-cold lips.

“There will be a victory banquet in three days. It’s in my honor, hosted personally by His Imperial Majesty, so everyone will gather for me.”

“…….”

“You must prepare thoroughly so as not to tarnish my reputation that day. That means your cheap little tricks from yesterday won’t cut it at all.”

His voice, cold as ice, swept once through the garden.

His message was simple enough. Ibelia already knew about the victory banquet. What she couldn’t understand was why he felt the need to tell her this.

“…Why are you telling me this?”

“Why? How am I supposed to interpret that question?”

At her hesitant inquiry, he sharply raised his eyebrows. The more he did, the more conflicted Ibelia felt.

The fact that a victory banquet would be held in three days was common knowledge—even among nobles outside the palace. Did he truly think she wouldn’t know?

However hollow her title might be, she was still the Crown Princess of this nation.

Was she truly so insignificant in his eyes that he assumed she’d be unaware of something even the nobility knew?

Ibelia let out a heavy sigh. The longer she faced him, the tighter her chest grew—as if a peach pit were lodged in her throat.

She wanted nothing more than to escape him right then.

“…If you’re speaking of preparations befitting my status as a member of the royal family and Crown Princess, I shall prepare diligently enough not to bring shame upon the palace.”

“That’s music to my ears. But it’s not just preparation—you must also ensure your conduct at the banquet doesn’t disgrace my name.”

“I’ll simply remain quietly in my place without drawing attention. If that’s what you mean, you needn’t worry.”

“Just quietly remain in your place? What exactly do you mean by that?”

Liurian let out a hollow laugh, as if bewildered. This only made Ibelia more flustered.

For a moment, she forgot her own misery and looked at him. His brows were furrowed fiercely, as if he’d heard something utterly unacceptable.

She couldn’t understand what she’d done wrong.

As always, all she’d meant was to stand like a scarecrow in her assigned place.

She’d intended to overlook all his actions—attending the party openly with Lellia, humiliating her for all to see.

It wasn’t the first time, so he surely understood her meaning. Yet he still couldn’t hide his displeasure.

“I don’t quite understand what you’re trying to tell me.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what explanation you expect from me.”

“I already know there’s a victory banquet scheduled in three days.”

“Then what exactly is the problem? I plan to visit the Crown Princess’s quarters before heading to the banquet that day, so I’d appreciate it if you’re fully prepared before I arrive.”

“If you have orders for me that day, please state them now. If rumors spread that you visited the Crown Princess’s quarters together with Lady Lellia outside the banquet…”

Ibelia exhaled a shallow sigh and moved her lips with detached composure—an expression so mechanical it defied description.

He watched her silently for a moment, then suddenly rubbed his forehead and let out a weary sigh.

“It seems my Crown Princess isn’t satisfied with merely making me look like a neglectful husband—now she’s determined to brand me an unworthy Crown Prince.”

His words, laced with bitter laughter, mocked her entirely. Yet Ibelia couldn’t utter a single word in reply.

His eyes glinted dangerously, as if ready to devour her at any moment.

“You will attend the victory banquet with me. From the moment it begins until it ends, you will stay by my side.”

He paused briefly, then fixed her with a piercing, fiery gaze—as if he might swallow her whole.

Ibelia’s expression before him twisted more and more miserably by the second.

Liurian watched her reaction with full attention, curling the corner of his mouth.

“You’ll be my Crown Princess—not a mere young lady.”