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At the Duke’s first long stretch of speech, Yulan’s eyes, hidden behind her shaggy black hair, sparkled.
From the moment they left the carriage, the Duke had seemed utterly displeased.
Of course, the commoner lover his daughter had suddenly brought along—someone she had kept hidden for years—must have played a significant part in that.
However, it seemed there was something else grating on the Duke's nerves even more.
‘In the first place, if the commoner lover were truly the only problem, he wouldn't have let him into the study; he would have made him kneel before the main gate.’
And he would have ordered that his very existence be ignored until he left of his own accord.
From the perspective of a noble father who cherished his daughter deeply, this level of response was already a very generous concession.
But this current attitude went beyond mere cherishing.
To put it bluntly, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that Yevgenia could manipulate the Duke.
‘...Well, it means he values his daughter that much, so it's not a bad thing.’
Even if Yevgenia hadn't sought out the back alleys of the capital in her precious body and given herself to him, things likely would have turned out as she wished.
Though, it must have taken a considerable amount of time to persuade him.
Yulan couldn't understand why Yevgenia was so obsessed with severing ties with Raymond ‘as soon as possible.’
According to her own words, she loved Raymond enough to throw herself into an experiment full of risks rather than stability...
‘There's no way I can believe that.’
Yevgenia’s golden eyes always held only a straightforward brilliance.
There was no trace of the gloom that remains from a blind love worth risking one's life for.
If that were the case, Yulan had thought the Duke's opposition must be incredibly severe, but she had just confirmed that wasn't it either.
‘This is getting more interesting. I wonder how I can make her reveal her true intentions...’
Yulan struggled to pull down the corners of her mouth, which were threatening to curl up, and took a deep breath like someone who had made a firm decision.
“Your Grace. I am neither a noble nor a wealthy person who has accumulated great riches. However, at the very least, I am confident that I cherish and can protect Zhenya... the Imperial Princess, more than anyone else. No, I thought I was.”
“....”
“I can only express my infinite gratitude for the fact that, through Your Grace's kindness, I have come to realize the reality of the situation. However.”
The Duke, who had been listening to Yulan's words while nodding with narrowed eyes, frowned slightly at the last word.
But since there were only more reasons to frown ahead, Yulan didn't bother showing any apologetic signs.
Instead, with both hands resting on her knees and her back straight, she continued speaking, exuding an air of absolute confidence.
“However, Your Grace, even if it is an exaggeration, I have no choice but to continue telling you. My sincere heart—that I wish for nothing more than for the Imperial Princess to be happy.”
“...You are out of your mind.”
“You are correct. Since I met the Imperial Princess... since I realized my love for her, I have not been sane for a single moment.”
Bowing her head deeply, as if drawing courage from the alcohol, she revealed her shame without hiding it.
Yet, her voice remained clear and firm.
“If the minimum requirement to make the Imperial Princess happy is lineage—if it is that damned thing called bloodline... then it means I should never have loved the Imperial Princess from the moment I was born.”
“I will not deny that.”
“But, Your Grace. How can a human heart be cut away and blocked by bloodline alone?”
It was an incredibly arrogant thing to say, but this was exactly the right amount.
Anyway, the love that ‘Yuri’ was prattling on about now was nothing more than a vain dream, no different from throwing a quail egg at the distant Lohas Stone Mountain rather than a common rock.
Since Yevgenia was right before her eyes, it might feel reachable, but a person like the Empire's Imperial Princess was someone above the clouds, unreachable even if one died and woke up twice.
Therefore, to properly assert this love, it was better to seem more arrogant and crazed.
“Upon meeting Zhenya, for the first time in my life, I felt ashamed of my bloodline—no, of my very existence. I know well how arrogant it is for a man with nothing, not even a name to protect, to love the Imperial Princess of House Martyr of all people.”
Along with her trembling voice, the hands resting on her knees were also shaking.
But it would be impossible to tell whether this was despair or anger.
Swallowing hard, Yulan continued.
“I know well that I may seem insolent, but that does not mean my sincerity can be disparaged.”
“...Ha!”
“I also know that I am far too lacking to embrace the Imperial Princess. However, I believe that this heart that loved the Imperial Princess, that loved Zhenya, is more noble than that of any noble.”
The Duke's expression began to contort grotesquely.
For a commoner to speak of nobility was truly madness.
Even without being dragged out, there would be no excuse even if he stabbed her in the chest right here.
Nevertheless, Yulan staked everything on a single fact.
“The Zhenya I have known until now is someone who can never be happy with that man. She possesses the potential to be far freer, more noble, and to rise much higher.”
“....”
“I will not dare ask you to give her to me. I will not pray to be allowed to be with her. From beginning to end, there is only one thing I desire. Her happiness, Your Grace.”
“How dare you...!”
“Yes, I dare say it. I hope that Your Grace will make a decision not as the Duke of Martyr, but as Yevgenia's father!”
It were words so desperate that one could almost see the hallucination of heartfelt sincerity overflowing.
From start to finish, ‘Yuri’ prayed for Yevgenia's happiness rather than her presence by her side.
It was all for this conclusion.
Whether Yulan's gamble would succeed or not depended entirely on that fact.
Namely...
“...Butler, show the guest to a room.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Go to Yevgenia's drawing room.”
The Duke's love for Yevgenia.
Based on Yulan's experience, it was something she could neither imagine nor understand, but it was clearly proven by those two sentences.
The Duke would never give up on Yevgenia.
...Just like an ordinary father of a child.
“Thank you, Your Grace!”
Behind the departing Duke, Yulan bowed at a ninety-degree angle, her expression caught in a strange boundary, neither smiling nor crying.
She felt suffocated by a mixture of the joy of having solved an excruciatingly difficult request and the unpleasantness toward an incomprehensible situation.
Attributing this simply to the intoxication, Yulan forced her mind to cool down.
* * *
Knock, knock—
“Yevgenia, may I come in?”
At the cautious sound of the knock, the sound of hurried footsteps was heard from beyond the door.
Before the Duke's question could even finish, the door swung wide open and Yevgenia rushed out, wearing a light outer garment over her chemise dress.
“Father! That person...”
“I have given him a guest room.”
“Phew...”
Because her father's words and actions in the carriage had been so precarious, she had been too anxious to lie down in bed even after washing and putting on pajamas; instead, she had spent her time pacing back and forth on the rug dozens, hundreds of times.
Seeing that he had provided a guest room, it seemed that, fortunately, he hadn't thrown him out naked or used violence.
‘No matter how I think about it, putting Yulan in this role was a bit much.’
Mainly for the sake of Yevgenia's heart health.
Her tense heart melted away, and she unconsciously clung to her father's arm.
As the distance closed abruptly, the strong scent of whiskey momentarily stung her nose.
“Father, did you perhaps drink with that person?”
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