The Young Male Protagonist Who is Destined for Ruin Fell for Me - Chapter 81

In the capital of the Traiha Empire, Emperor Leosys II, Crown Prince Enoch, and Ithar, who had recently returned from the Keltman hunting festival, were sharing tea together.

“How wonderful it is to gather like this,” said Leosys II. Ithar frowned at the Crown Prince, who responded with a gentle smile. Such false modesty in front of the emperor was irritating.

“Who knows how much longer His Majesty will live. I suppose pretending to be obedient is the wise choice,” Ithar thought, smirking inwardly at Enoch’s behavior.

It was pitiful to see him fiercely guarding the position of Crown Prince, a title he had gained by murdering his half-sister.

Enoch, sensing Ithar’s mockery, simply smiled and sipped his tea. The dryness in his mouth made it difficult to swallow, even though he hadn’t touched the tea snacks.

“Ithar, what did you observe during your time with the envoys in Keltman? A report would be quite helpful,” Enoch asked in his ever-gentle tone.

That voice, which seemed to soothe anyone who heard it, was something Ithar absolutely despised.

Surely, it must have been the same voice he used when driving Iana to her death. Calm and steady, he must have explained why that innocent girl had to die in that same tone.

“There’s nothing much to report. Regardless of how shaken the Keltman royal family is by Chaield’s meddling, they’re far from being as unstable as Traiha is at the moment.”

“…Ithar.”

“And who’s to say? Perhaps the Crown Prince’s conquest of colonies, flooding Traiha with silver, has nothing to do with its current financial deficit.”

As the two sons exchanged cold stares, devoid of any warmth, the emperor rubbed the back of his neck in frustration.

“Enoch, you may leave now. Ithar, stay. I have something to discuss with you.”

“By all means, Your Majesty,” Ithar replied politely, though his tone lacked any genuine respect. The emperor sighed wryly. Ithar, who once had a temperament as gentle as Enoch’s, had grown this cold since that time.

“Do you still grieve for Iana?”

“…Still? I don’t understand why you’d phrase it like that. What response are you hoping for?”

“She was a child who died in an accident. How long will you continue to wallow in her death?”

Ithar remained silent, chewing over his father’s words. A child who died in an accident? No, that was merely the conclusion they wanted. He had no desire to continue this conversation.

“I’ll take my leave now.”

“Ithar, I’m not finished—”

“I wish for your swift recovery, Your Majesty.”

As the emperor’s sudden coughing echoed behind him, Ithar walked away indifferently. Even in his chambers, his mood failed to improve.

The question—whether he still hadn’t let go of Iana—was particularly offensive because it implied that forgetting her would be the “wise” thing to do.

“Brother! Look, I got these flowers as a gift from him. Aren’t they beautiful?”

The memory of Iana beaming with joy, holding a bouquet of lilies, replayed in his mind. That same cheerful girl was later found as a lifeless corpse.

The imperial family and the Crown Prince’s inner circle showed no intention of investigating her death. The man she loved and his family vanished from the capital without a trace.

And Iana, with her unnaturally blue lips lying in a glass coffin like one who had swallowed poison. Ithar couldn’t make sense of any of it.

“Why am I suddenly thinking of Lady Diane?”

Lady Diane, whom Ithar had only observed from afar, didn’t resemble Iana in hair or eye color. Yet, the dimples that appeared when she smiled were so similar that they made her seem like Iana’s twin.

“To think she’d know so much about the new culture of Traiha.”

For reasons he couldn’t explain, Ithar couldn’t stop thinking about her. Deep in thought, he was interrupted by one of his subordinates running toward him.

“Ithar, sir! The guest you’ve been expecting has arrived.”

Hearing Venom’s report, a faint smile formed around Ithar’s lips.

“So, you’re truly being pursued by Chaield? Judging by how late you are, I suppose it’s true. Let them in.”

No sooner had he spoken than the door opened. A man entered, his steps weak, clad in a tattered cloak for disguise.

Once the door closed, the man slowly removed the cloak. Beneath it was a figure with dark navy hair and eyes, an unkempt appearance, and a mechanical arm made of metal.

“Marabas Lydel. It’s been a while. Judging by your state, you’ve been through quite an ordeal.”

“I trust that you’ll now grant me your protection, Lord Ithar,” Marabas replied.

Ithar’s brow twitched ever so slightly, as if to ask, “Why should I?” However, Marabas spoke with confidence.

“When you see the results of my research, you’ll understand.”

Meanwhile, in the office, Kyle and Claire had moved to a different space but still struggled to engage in meaningful conversation. Both were visibly rattled by each other’s unfamiliar appearances from earlier.

“What’s with the flowers in his hair? Has he gone mad?”

“Why does she look like she’s lost her mind in front of the mirror?”

They both tried hard to mask their bewilderment toward one another. Their relationship was one of mutual exploitation, each paying the other as needed, so displaying such unguarded sides of themselves was discomforting.

After an awkward silence, their gazes drifted to the ornate clock on the shelf. Soon, acquaintances of Amel, invited for dinner, were expected to arrive.

“…I wasn’t acting mad. I was practicing my expressions in front of the mirror,” Claire explained, handing Kyle a report.

Though Kyle didn’t show it, he was surprised. He’d assumed she would ignore the incident entirely, yet here she was offering an explanation.

“I guess she really wants to make a good impression on my sister.”

He understood the sentiment, as he felt the same. Skimming through the report, Kyle responded quietly.

“It was my fiancée who placed it there. Decorating my hair isn’t exactly a hobby of mine.”

“Well, if Amel did it, I suppose I’ll respect her taste.”

“…If we’re going to discuss something, let’s get on with it.”

Kyle raised the report to eye level, attempting to conceal his flushed face.

Claire’s report neatly summarized Marabas’s movements and the current state of the Traiha Empire.

After being crowned Crown Prince, Enoch, the first prince of Traiha, had worked tirelessly to enrich the royal family and the empire by establishing colonies. Now, with advancements in technology and the widespread use of new ships, his efforts were beginning to bear fruit.

Massive ships flying the Traiha royal crest began transporting unimaginable quantities of silver and spices from distant colonies. The sheer volume of wealth was said to be enough to resolve the empire’s long-standing issues with homelessness and vagrancy and still leave a surplus.

“I hear the faction that supported the first prince’s ascent to Crown Prince is reaping the rewards. Meanwhile, the Traiha royal family is likely worried about the third prince’s faction conspiring to rebel.”

“Defeated heirs in succession wars often band together. It’s not unexpected, though it seems Marabas Lydel might also align with the third prince’s faction.”

This was why the two members of Chaield were meeting. After pouring resources into intelligence gathering, they discovered that Marabas had been seen lingering around the Traiha royal palace—specifically near the third prince’s quarters.

Since the palace was involved, any misstep could escalate into an international dispute. For this reason, Claire had been forced to limit her actions to surveillance, though she expressed her frustration.

“With rising commodity prices, it might be best to visit Traiha and investigate directly. Coincidentally, it’s auction season, so I’ll make the trip myself.”

“Are you sure you’ll be fine?”

“I have acquaintances from my travels and studies who will be of help. You, Your Grace, should remain by the Chaield Duchess’s side.”

Despite her confident tone, Claire’s voice carried a hint of regret.

The best course of action for Amel’s safety was for Claire to personally take charge. However, doing so would mean missing Amel’s ceremony where she would be awarded the Imperial Lily Medal.

“Then I’ll leave it to you.”

Claire, about to accept the task readily, hesitated as she pictured Amel smiling in a radiant white dress adorned with lilies. Regret filled her expression.

“…In return, please capture Amel’s appearance in a painting for me,” she requested in a voice more melancholy than ever before.

“It’s been a while, Lady Diane!”

“Thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming all this way. Lady Gretchel, Lady Reina, this way, please.”

“Thank me? Being invited to the Chaield Ducal Estate isn’t exactly a common occurrence.”

Such a candid response was typical of Lady Reina.

At first, Diane had thought their personalities would clash because of this trait, but now she found Reina’s genuine demeanor rather refreshing.

“It’s been a while for you, too, Vanessa.”

The two ladies also recognized Vanessa, whom they had previously encountered during the necklace incident. The group had been humorously nicknamed the “Royal Palace Detention Quartet” after that event.

Diane guided the ladies and their attendants through the main lobby of the Chaield Ducal Estate.

The estate was known for its exclusivity—entry was only granted to those deemed worthy by Kyle himself. Diane thought they might as well take a proper tour while they were here, though the ladies walked cautiously, almost as if entering a haunted house.

“Is it intimidating?”

There seemed no other reason for their stiffness. Even during the necklace theft, they hadn’t been this rigid.

“Well, the Chaield Ducal Estate is a bit overwhelming,” Diane admitted.

The furnishings in the drawing room, all gilded, required such delicate care during cleaning that the hired staff were wary of wearing them down.

Since it was a rare opportunity to share a meal with acquaintances, Diane had no intention of making the atmosphere awkward. After all, that could ruin their appetites.

“Shall we wrap up the tour here?”

However, the ladies looked reluctant, asking to see more. Diane wondered what could possibly be making them so nervous. She decided to discreetly read their thoughts.

“We never know when she might appear.”
“That infamous Lady Claire is said to be here…”
“It’s my first time meeting His Grace informally.”
“If I mess up here, my parents will kill me. They’ll kill me, I swear.”

…What kind of reputation did Chaield have among the nobility? Were there rumors that they literally devoured people alive?

“At least they’re not openly terrified anymore. Back then, they looked as though they’d seen a monster.”

When Diane’s parents arrived shortly after, their reactions were no different. They held Diane’s hand tightly, suddenly asking if life with her sister-in-law had been manageable.

“Well… Chaield is always the best. I’ve been living so comfortably that I feel guilty toward the two of you,” Diane replied.

Through their clasped hands, she caught glimpses of their unease about Claire.

“Why did your sister-in-law make the duchess kneel? If she keeps doing things like that…”
“So cool. My favorite is the best. It’s so like Claire to crush those who ignore her.”

Absolutely. Diane almost nodded in agreement but was interrupted by footsteps approaching from behind. It seemed Claire and Kyle had concluded a private discussion and were now coming downstairs together.

“Is something wrong?” Diane wondered.

Both wore grim expressions. Why was the mood so heavy on such a good day? It felt as though an unspoken competition to assess each other’s defenses was underway.

“Kyle, is something bothering you? Why do you look like that, hmm?”

She asked as she usually did, darting over to him. Her casual tone prompted a startled gasp from the guests.

When Kyle softened his expression and said, “Thank you for accepting our invitation,” the guests were left slack-jawed.

“Is it because Claire looks so stern?”

Normally, Claire was cheerful, but today, she seemed tense, as though preparing for a major exam, making her appear rather intimidating. Diane grasped her hand and flashed a charming smile.

“By the way, is today the first time you’re meeting my parents?”

For some reason, Diane’s parents squeezed their joined hands even tighter. Meanwhile, Claire’s thoughts filtered through.

“Just smile. It’s not too late to start now.”
“What if they look at me like I’m insane?”
“They’re Amel’s acquaintances, after all…”

Moments later, Claire, having made her decision, gave the most radiant smile Diane had ever seen. It was stunning—so much so that Diane wondered if she’d practiced in front of a mirror.

“Thank you for coming.”

Lady Gretchel and Lady Reina were left speechless by the sight. It was only natural; it wasn’t every day one encountered such beauty directly.

Curious to hear their impressions of her favorite person, Diane stood beside them, discreetly reading their minds.

“Did that Lady Claire just smile?”
“Diane must be something else…”

It seemed their reactions were less about Claire’s beauty and more about her surprising demeanor.