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It was a voice laced with a fury colder than a glacier.
He didn't stop at a single sentence; he continued for two, then three, as if finally unleashing the anger he had been suppressing until now.
I could have been more certain if I had seen my father's face, but I couldn't see a thing because Yulan was still clutching my head tightly.
And then there was the heartbeat echoing through my ears and vibrating through my entire body.
Thump, thump, thump.
Following that steady, leisurely rhythm, my own heart began to settle.
While I regained my composure, Yulan was filling the void, improvising scenes that weren't in the script.
“I would gladly give my life for Zhenya’s honor.”
Something soft pressed firmly against my forehead.
My father’s stomach would be churning, but as a lover, this was the peak of perfection.
However, whether the words that followed were equally peak was a matter that required further listening.
“It is because of me that Zhenya did not receive her successor training.”
Yulan gently stroked my hair.
As I waited, feeling that ticklish sensation, his following words fortunately did not disappoint me.
“When I first met Zhenya, I guessed at a glance that she must be of noble birth, but being an ignorant fool, I simply thought of it in a positive light. I believed that if I truly gave my absolute best—if I could only prove it—that our love would be permitted.”
“Ha!”
“Yes, I know. That it was a ridiculous delusion. But I wanted Zhenya so much that I wished to make even that a reality. I was prepared to sacrifice everything for Zhenya, save for my own bloodline.”
Sincerity resonated from the slight tremble at the end of his voice.
It was a performance so perfect that my own expression almost crumbled.
I didn't even need to explain further; I was internally thinking, ‘Wait, did I actually promise my love to a commoner like this?’
The slowly simmering emotions soon raced toward a climax.
“I will not ask Your Excellency to understand or acknowledge our circumstances. However, I hope you recognize Zhenya’s efforts—the pain she endured for Your Excellency. If you can promise me just that, I will leave Zhenya’s… Princess Martyr’s side, whenever you wish.”
I was startled by the unplanned line.
He was supposed to be stubborn about staying together and remaining by my side, so where did this sudden submissiveness come from?
I immediately pushed away from Yulan's embrace and stood up.
For some reason, it felt as though the arms that had been holding me so tightly just a moment ago loosened far too easily.
The moment I looked at him in surprise, he gave me a subtle wink.
Though I felt conflicted, my mouth instinctively chose the right words and spat them out.
“Yul…! What nonsense is that! Do you think I’ll be happy if you’re gone? No, absolutely not!”
“…Zhenya.”
“If I could truly live without you, I wouldn't have even thought of returning to you the moment my name manifested. But, but I…!”
Sob.
Letting out a cry that might have sounded a bit excessive, I dove back into Yulan's arms.
As we continued the conversation, subtly laying out the backstory, I stomped my foot loudly so my father could hear.
Thanks to that, the lingering sobbing and whispering finally came to a halt.
Even the carriage, which had been moving with ghostly smoothness, came to a dead stop.
Amidst the familiar lights of the mansion streaming through the window, my father stood up first and stepped out.
Through the wide-open door, I saw my father's back as he reached out his hand toward me.
In that instant, the jumbled sentences that had been popping up haphazardly in my mind vanished completely.
“…Thank you, Father.”
Naturally, there was no reply.
However, the arm that firmly supported me, ensuring not a single step of my high heels wavered, spoke a thousand words.
After escorting me to the door, my father pointed at me and spoke.
“Evgenia Rose Martyr. I will see you later.”
“…”
“Go up to your room.”
It would be a lie to say I wasn't worried about Yulan, who was left behind.
Knowing his usual behavior, I didn't think he would simply buckle or be intimidated, even in front of my father.
However, it weighed on my mind that there might be a moment during their private meeting where his words and mine might contradict each other.
Perhaps that was why I couldn't stop looking back repeatedly on my way to my room.
Even after arriving at my room, guided by Anna's hand, my head was filled with thoughts of what my father and Yulan would discuss.
* * *
Inside the study, filled with the musty scent of old books.
The flickering candlelight made the atmosphere even more gloomy.
Cutting through the heavy air, Duke Martir entered with long strides and sat in the center of the sofa.
Shortly after, the Duke gestured toward the sofa in front of him for Yulan, who had followed him in.
Without a word, Yulan followed the gesture and sat down, naturally facing the Duke.
The only things on the low table between the sofas were two crystal glasses and a bottle of expensive-looking whiskey.
“Drink.”
As soon as Yulan sat, the command was given, and a glass was immediately lifted.
A deep amber liquid glugged out, filling the fairly large glass to the brim.
After filling the glass in front of himself with the same amount, the Duke set the bottle down and spoke.
“Drink it all first.”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
Yulan tilted his upper body back and began to drink, emptying the whiskey in one go without a single break before setting the glass down.
Noticing the Duke's glass was similarly empty at around the same time, Yulan promptly seized the whiskey bottle.
As he filled it with the same amount, the Duke continued to drink without a word of thanks.
The cycle of pouring and drinking repeated for a long time.
A new bottle whenever one emptied, and another new bottle when that one was gone.
Only when the table was filled with a line of empty bottles did the Duke's tightly shut mouth finally open.
“Yuri, was it?”
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
“What do you do for a living?”
“This and that… I’ve worked as a mercenary, and I’ve done cleaning or stood guard at the entrance of shops… Basically, I do whatever I can to earn money.”
As if it wasn't an unexpected question, the answer flowed smoothly from Yulan's lips.
Yulan was still perfectly acting the part of ‘Yuri, the man who wants to stay by Evgenia’s side even if it means earning money.’
He waited for the Duke's response, deliberately maintaining an overly upright posture.
“And the money you’ve saved doing that is?”
“Approximately… one million gold.”
One million gold was an amount that would allow an average commoner family of four to live in leisure for three years.
If he wanted to emphasize that he had worked 24/7, 365 days a year, taking on jobs that risked his life without hesitation, it was a believable sum.
However, the Duke was not satisfied with this.
In a way, it was only natural.
Because.
“Do you realize that is barely enough to buy a single piece of lace for the gloves our Zhenya wears?”
…This was the ‘true reality.’
If ‘Yuri’ were a real person, and if that third party named ‘Yuri’ had sought Yulan’s advice, Yulan would have told him instantly to give up on the Princess Martyr.
No matter how hard one worked, grinding their body and risking their life, such an amount was nowhere near the lifestyle of a Princess.
‘But logically, unless he took on filthy work, a young commoner man couldn't earn more than a million gold in less than ten years, no matter how hard he worked. And since Duke Martir would never send his daughter to a commoner who had dirtied his hands, this is the best he could do, but…’
Unfortunately, the ‘Yuri’ present here had to learn that fact for the first time now.
He was merely a being who had to stand before the slowly emerging wall of reality and leave, wishing for the Princess's happiness.
Yulan’s expression naturally hardened as he stroked his cheek and muttered.
“Just a single piece of lace…”
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