Chapter 69

He had half-expected her to strike him across the face, yet she only bit her lip and fixed him with a fierce glare. Her fists were clenched tight, though she clearly lacked the courage to swing them. If only she could release her anger instead of locking it away.

It seemed, however, she was determined to endure to the very end.

“If you mean to help, then do it properly unless you’re just here to get in my way. Besides, it hardly suits you to grieve in the first place.”

Tears welled in her wide, defiant eyes and spilled without end. Her chin quivered, and had she tried to speak, her voice would have trembled with it.

“…Y-You’re… doing it again. Acting… as if you know me… so well.”

Ah, as I thought.

No matter how she tried to hide it, the truth couldn’t be concealed. That faint tremor in her clear, bell-like voice drew a slow smile to Dexter’s lips. Why was it that he found the sight of her, who had never once lost her composure, now wavering, pleasing?

Surely, he had gone irredeemably mad. The thought of what he had become frightened him, yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop. In truth, he should never have begun at all.

If only they had never crossed paths again.

‘Ah, but then again, I had scoured the entire Empire, leaving her no place to hide.’

Still, he had hoped that she might, at least a little, begin to wonder. To question why he clung to her, something that might explain the reason behind his actions. Even in similar circumstances, she reacted in ways he had never anticipated. Maybe that was why it left him so unsettled. He had wished for despair, yet found he couldn’t bear to see it in her again.

“W-Why are you doing this… to me…”

She struggled so hard to speak that the words broke apart, her voice trembling under the weight of it.

Was she always capable of showing her feelings so plainly?

For a fleeting moment, Dexter wondered if she truly was the one he had sought all this time. If only, back then, she had given him even a single word.

Although it’s too late now.

“Does it matter? I’m the Crown Prince. Would it not be stranger if I knew nothing of my own people? You can’t believe I took on a personal Guide without learning anything about her, did you?”

A delicate crease formed on her lovely face. Her tears had yet to dry, spilling endlessly down her cheeks.

Unlike Edith, it seemed Bianca was a woman who wept easily.

“So if you mean to do nothing but cry and stand in the way, then go with them.”

“…It seems that Your Highness has never mourned the loss of anyone.”

“I have.”

So deeply that I couldn’t believe it, and followed her into death.

Yet in turn, he longed to ask her—

When you left, did you not worry for the person you were leaving behind? Did you feel no remorse? Did you ever wonder what became of them afterward?

But she, it seemed, had left the past behind entirely and was living only in the life she held now.

“So, Lady Astri, would you give your life for your family? For your brother?”

“Yes.”

The answer came without the slightest hesitation, and the corner of Dexter’s mouth curved upward. To think her family was so precious to her.

Then, if I were to become her family, would it be possible?

He straightened, drawing in a slow breath. Truly, this woman had a talent for driving a man to madness.

︵‿୨ ₊‧꒰ა ཐི༏ཋྀ ໒꒱ ˚₊ ୧‿︵

Night had fallen.

Still, no word came. Forced into the carriage because of Alec, Bianca now regretted it. Even if shame had made her tremble, even if he had belittled her, she should have endured. Had she done so, she wouldn’t feel this gnawing restlessness now.

And so Bianca kept waiting for Dexter, who had yet to return. It was the first time she had ever waited for him.

Upon returning to the castle, she was told her parents had arrived but instead of going to the receiving room, she went straight to her chamber. She couldn’t bring herself to speak of her brother’s fate with her own lips.

Just a little longer. Just a little more.

An hour passed.

Then two.

Time slipped steadily away, and at last, even her parents, who had been waiting for her, left the castle and returned to their estate.

She had sent a letter promising to write again, but they must have sensed something the moment she refused to meet.

‘Please.’

Bianca clasped her hands together, eyes fixed on the slow sweep of the clock’s hands. This gnawing unease would not fade until he returned.

As midnight drew near, she moved to the window. No carriage approached. Only the shadowed garden lay before her, with the occasional glimpse of guards standing watch in the darkness.

She eventually pulled the bellcord, summoning her maid.

“Lady Bianca, you called for me?”

“Has His Highness the Crown Prince not yet returned?”

“Ah… there is still no news.”

Even though the maid’s hesitation didn’t sit right with her, she knew that no matter how she pressed, she would get no answer.

‘What is she hiding?’