Chapter 18. Rather Than Marry You

Anger slowly rose within Lottie. She hated many things about this man, but most of all, she hated his arrogance in thinking he could control others as he pleased.

“No.”

“……”

“Rather than marry you, I would rather drown myself in the Contra River.”

Calyx laughed dryly. It seemed like he would once again tear into her mind by calling it another lie.

Lottie had no more excuses to squeeze out. She didn’t even have the strength to hold onto her wavering heart.

“……!”

Lottie grabbed the hem of her dress and started running somewhere.

She headed toward the entrance of the First Bridge, not far from the open-air café.

She ran barefoot, without even putting on her shoes.

Calyx, noticing Lottie’s intention, quickly chased after her.

He reached for the beautifully fluttering hem of her dress, but it was too late.

“……!”

At that moment, everyone at the First Bridge and Bates Square froze. All their attention turned to the woman who had taken flight like a bird to escape the proposal.

Lottie, who had nothing but a heavy dress instead of wings, fell in the same posture she had taken off, over the low railing.

* * *

“That Charlotte girl has quite a temper. Good thing they fished her out of the river quickly.”

Catherine spoke casually as she put a small piece of cut asparagus in her mouth.

The queen’s castle, Great Palace.

In the massive castle with eleven dining rooms, the queen had chosen the ‘Red Dining Room’ to have lunch with the crown prince.

The Red Dining Room was the largest dining room, able to accommodate about 200 guests at once, and was typically used for banquets at the castle.

“If not, she would have died for sure. Once a dress hem starts wrapping around in water, it’s not easy to escape.”

“……”

“By the way, you’ve been eating only meat all this time? You haven’t touched the roasted vegetables at all.”

Patrick, who was just about to put a piece of duck meat cut by the servant into his mouth, froze with his mouth open at Catherine’s remark.

“While we can eat meat just by reaching out our hands, ordinary people can barely eat it once a year. Don’t you think a promising king should be able to view life from the perspective of his people?”

Patrick blankly stared at the array of food dishes laid out between himself and his mother.

Pineapples and mangoes imported from tropical countries, bananas roasted once and flavored with vanilla, mashed potatoes mixed with steamed corn,

And cabbages, asparagus, red onions, and more imported from Deisnoya and Triena……

In short, even though they were called vegetables, they were all rare ingredients that would never appear on the tables of ordinary people even if the world turned upside down.

“……”

Patrick was seized by a strong urge to point out the inconsistency in his mother’s words, but he quickly gave up.

He closed his open mouth and tried to put some roasted red onion in his mouth, but it was hard to swallow, like chewing rubber.

“The Duchess of Dunchester must be having a hard time too. To think her grand-niece is such a tomboy.”

Catherine’s voice, continuing the previous topic, remained calm without fluctuation.

Just like when she first heard from Luka Brown that Calyx Valdea had proposed to Count Ixe’s only daughter.

As soon as he recalled his cousin’s name, the face from the royal ball that day rushed into Patrick’s mind. Along with that expression that perfectly mixed pity and mockery, as if asking how it felt to have his prey stolen.

Just before the most unwanted memory could surface, Patrick looked at his mother with desperate eyes, seeking help.

Unlike him, whose mind was shaken by even a single word from a toothless former crown prince, his mother remained calm then and now.

Why was his mother, who had insisted that he must marry Count Ixe’s only daughter, now sitting with her hands folded while things had come to this?

‘Damn it.’

Patrick swallowed a curse. He realized that, one way or another, he was ultimately helpless, unable to do anything on his own without his mother.

“Mother.”

As if trying to shake off his self-loathing, Patrick spoke in a subdued voice.

“Won’t you finally tell me? Why I must marry Charlotte Ebenscher…… that woman.”

It was a question he had repeated numerous times in the past. Remembering the humiliation he had suffered at the royal ball because of this, his tightly clenched fist trembled.

Even before hearing the answer, Patrick felt he already knew what his mother would say.

Yes, with that ice-cold gaze and a smile only on her lips, just like now……

“That’s something you don’t need to know. I’ll take care of everything, so you just need to walk the path I’ve laid out for you.”

Patrick knew well what kind of person his mother was. So he knew these words did not come from any boiling maternal love.

Under the watchful eye of his mother, who was observing whether her 23-year-old grown son was being picky with food, Patrick stuffed the nauseating vegetables into his mouth.

He ate so hurriedly that by the time he returned to Denger Palace, he was shivering all over.

“Letters that have arrived for Your Highness.”

Skimming through the bundle of letters on the silver tray, Patrick was seized by a terrible sense of futility.

They would just be invitation cards, close to begging, from petty nobles with blocked paths to advancement.

The moment he saw the letter in a blue envelope with a familiar seal, Patrick felt his indigestion clear at once.

When he heard the servant’s subsequent words, even his sense of futility melted away like snow.

“A letter from Blue Brick. They hope for Your Highness’s urgent visit.”

* * *

“Please go back, Your Highness.”

Calyx stared at Isabelle’s face as she stood at the entrance.

“I regret to inform you that my grand-niece has expressed her wish not to receive any visitors.”

The wrinkled old lady’s face was impassive.

Her blue eyes, unlike those of an inexperienced girl, were skilled at hiding emotions. Even Calyx, sensitive to others’ emotional changes and thoughts, had no means to overcome such experience.

Calyx swallowed a bitter smile.

It was time to turn back.

Just as he had done yesterday and the day before, he should politely withdraw while promising to return tomorrow, a meeting the other party would never want.

“Today as well?”

However, today especially, he was strongly seized by the premonition that there might not be a tomorrow.

Calyx recalled Lottie jumping into the river.

When he saw her leap into the river without a second thought, he felt his mind stop for a moment, but fortunately, a small boat passing overhead quickly fished her out.

If it had been midwinter, perhaps, but now it was the dry early summer.

Her wet body would have dried on the way home, and at worst, she might have caught a cough that would disappear in a day. She would soon appear again in good health.

Thinking this, he soon put his mind at ease. Or rather, he denied his own stirring heart in this way.

“Is it not that she cannot receive visitors?”

“……”

“Is she very ill?”

Isabelle’s politely lowered eyelids trembled momentarily.

Calyx quietly and patiently waited for Isabelle’s answer.

Though he thought there was no particular reason to be concerned, his mouth grew increasingly dry. The longer the answer was delayed, the more parched his throat became.

He found himself wanting to force open the old lady’s mouth to extract an answer.

“……No.”

Fortunately, Isabelle answered before a major incident could occur. Her downcast eyes looked directly at Calyx.

“She coughed briefly right after falling into the river, but she recovered quickly afterward.”

Since the old lady’s eyes that met his did not try to hide her true feelings, Calyx easily guessed what she was saying.

Now was truly the moment to turn back.

I’ll come again tomorrow. Leaving behind those words that seemed stuck to his lips, he withdrew from the entrance.

“If I may be so bold.”

Just before the door closed, Isabelle said.

“Pressing someone who says no is violence.”

After that, the front door closed with a quiet sound.

Standing for a moment in front of the closed door, Calyx quietly looked down at his hand.

He had been clenching his fist so tightly in his gloved hand that his fingers were numb.

The old lady’s trembling voice kept sticking to his ears.

So what should I have done then?

He had planned to take time to get close to her, give her some assurance that they would benefit each other, and then discuss marriage from a thoroughly rational perspective. He never intended to press her desperately.

But his plan was once again thoroughly disrupted by her.

More precisely, not by her hand but by her eyes. That look she gave as soon as she saw him.

That gaze, so clear she couldn’t even hide it, full of familiar contempt, disgust, and fear, had pierced through him.

Filled with confidence and arrogance at the time, he had crumbled at just one contemptuous look from her.

His plausible plan ultimately ended in a mess, along with the impulse to cover those eyes.

He didn’t regret it. The fact that he would still desire her even if she pushed him away violently wouldn’t change.

He didn’t mind being hated.

From the moment he kissed her, he had been confident that he could endure even more than hatred if only he could keep the one he desired by his side.

Then how should he define this emotion now?

Clenching his fist so tightly his glove might tear for fear of ripping open the old lady’s mouth as she hesitated to answer, his throat burning, and despite being driven away, scanning the mansion’s outer walls with his eyes in search of what might be her room. How should he understand his own behavior?

Unable to find an answer, his footsteps remained fixed around the mansion. His anxiety intensified when the tightly closed front door opened and Isabelle, prepared to go out, emerged.