NMBTD 11

Chapter 11

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Franz was not forceful. He waited patiently for Alaisia’s eyes to fully close.

Only after her silent permission did he pull her closer.

Franz gently pressed his lips against Alaisia’s.

As their lips fully met, a deep sigh escaped from between his teeth.

He licked her tightly closed lower lip with care and embraced her tightly.

A refreshing scent surrounded her—a temptation too alluring to resist.

But she must not waver.

Trapped in Franz’s firm embrace, Alaisia raised her hands to push against his chest. The plush bed dipped beneath them as she struggled.

“Franz, …ah.”

A soft moan slipped from her lips as she whispered his name. Her brows furrowed as she opened her mouth to speak.

As if waiting for that moment, his tongue forcefully pushed inside.

His hot tongue roamed roughly inside her mouth. Shared breaths filled the bedroom—she didn’t even know whose breath it was anymore.

What began as a polite kiss grew more intense with heat. Alaisia’s resistance slowly faded, her strength draining from her hands.

Franz tilted his head to deepen the kiss. That’s when her heart—silent until now—suddenly began pounding wildly.

‘…No.’

As if her heart were beating right by her ears, Alaisia’s eyes flew open.

She summoned every ounce of strength she had to push him away.

But in reality, all she managed was a weak press of her palms against his chest.

Even that was enough for Franz. He froze in place, his lips parting from hers to catch his breath.

“You’re right, my lady.”

Franz murmured, visibly crushed. His breaths were still unsteady, unable to calm down.

“We haven’t even had our wedding yet.”

As though promising the rest would wait until after the ceremony.

Alaisia was confused.

Franz didn’t like her. He didn’t even enjoy being in the same room with her. Her scent repulsed him.

Their wedding night had been an obligation.

It had been a cold, emotionless night.

His every move that night screamed he would never love her.

Each time she lay with Franz, it had been the same. A horrifying experience that left her in tears.

And the result of that night…

‘Forget it, Lesa.’

Alaisia shook her head briefly. She adjusted her bodice and forced a smile.

“You’re right. So please refrain from coming to my bedroom like this again. If you wish to speak with me, do so through Sara.”

“What about you, my lady?”

“Pardon?”

“Would you never want to speak with me? Even if not, you might need my help while at the imperial palace. If you ever want to see me, just come to my room.”

Franz spoke with longing in his eyes. As her expression hardened, he added,

“…if such a time ever comes.”

“It won’t.”

Alaisia cut him off coldly. Her eyes, the color of summer’s green, were frozen solid in front of him.

“When I truly needed help, Your Highness wasn’t there for me.”

“You’re certain of that? Why?”

“I wonder. Why indeed?”

Alaisia twisted her lips into a bitter smile.

She was used to Franz’s neglect. It had happened so often she couldn’t even count.

He was acting sweet now only because he needed something from her. To him, she was nothing more, nothing less.

Yet here he was, pretending to care about her.

In some ways, this version of Franz might be crueler than before.

Pretending to crave love?

‘I’ll never come looking for you.’

Alaisia’s hand moved to her flat stomach.

Gripping her dress so tightly it wrinkled, she glared at Franz. Her hands trembled where they wrapped around her abdomen.

“So don’t waste your time on me.”

Her warning made his composed face twist slightly.

“Don’t expect anything from me.”

Alaisia turned her head coldly. When she looked away from him, a cold breath grazed the back of her neck.

The bed shifted again as his solid body pulled away.

Alaisia kept her eyes averted until the door closed. Only then did she curl up, breathing heavily.

“Ugh…”

She hugged her belly tightly and bit her lip.

‘Ask for help? From him?’

She scoffed. She would never ask Franz for help—no matter what.

He would abandon her again anyway.

‘I won’t let it happen again.’

Her frail shoulders trembled, and tears welled in her clear eyes. For a long time, the only sound in the room was her quiet sobbing.

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Alaisia was already being treated as the Second Prince’s fiancée.

Though the wedding was still some time away, nobles were desperate to make a good impression on her.

The mountain of invitations arriving daily was proof of that.

Alaisia flipped through the stack of invitations Sara had brought with disinterest. Each one expressed the “honor” of hosting the future princess.

‘If they’re sending this many to me, they’ve probably already sent loads of gifts to the Ambrose estate.’

As she paused her reply-writing, her gaze drifted out toward the garden dyed in autumn hues.

She parted her lips slightly at the sight.

Her old villa had no garden. Of course, no garden trees either.

Locked away in that villa, Alaisia had never gotten to enjoy the beauty of the imperial palace.

She never thought she deserved that kind of luxury.

But now, she sat in the deepest room of the Second Prince’s palace, leisurely admiring the view.

The bed was layered with soft linens, and the fireplace crackled warmly, well-fed with wood.

Everything was abundant. The contrast from her past life made her shiver.

‘Everything is changing.’

Not only Franz—but even the courtiers who once ignored her—now paid close attention.

Ever since word got out that she stayed in the same wing as Franz, the servants had become more respectful. Sensitive to power, they adjusted quickly.

“…Shall I?”

Lost in thought, Alaisia blinked at the sudden voice.

She turned her head and saw Sara holding a silver tray with a letter atop it.

“Hmm? What did you say?”

“Shall I prepare your reply for this one first?”

“What is it?”

When Alaisia asked, Sara respectfully lowered her head and presented the tray.

Frowning as she recognized the wax seal, Alaisia stared at the envelope.

A rose vine encircling a shield—Ambrose’s crest.

She already knew who it was from. And what it would say.

It would be from Patricia, advising her to win Franz’s body and heart, to serve him with all her might.

“How quick.”

Alaisia muttered with a resigned look.

She hadn’t expected it until after the wedding. But here it was already. So much for the past repeating itself exactly.

“Burn it.”

She turned away from the letter and spoke curtly.

“Never bring me letters from Ambrose again. I won’t read them. And I won’t be replying.”

“But…”

Sara looked troubled, still holding the tray.

With a cold flick of her hand, Alaisia gestured. As Sara approached, Alaisia tore open the envelope roughly with a paper knife.

She read through the letter quickly.

“Just as I thought.”

She said flatly and handed it to Sara.

When the maid hesitated, she ordered, “You read it too.”

“Pardon? I couldn’t possibly… it’s a letter from your ladyship’s family.”

“It’s fine. Go on.”

Sara hesitated a long moment before lowering her eyes to the letter. Alaisia rested her chin on her hand and watched her read.

Sara’s face, at first nervous, gradually hardened.

Alaisia gauged her place in the letter by observing her expression.

If Sara’s face was twisted and her hand trembling, she must be at that part.

The part asking for money—saying the dowry was used up and even the palace treasury should be tapped.

Or maybe the part demanding that Franz grant Caleb the title of count.

“H-How could she… This is awful. How could she ask this of you?”

Sara looked up, her violet eyes filled with disbelief.

She knew how Alaisia had been treated at Ambrose. The abuse from her stepmother, how she’d clung to Caleb just to survive.

But things had changed since Alaisia came to the palace.

Sara likely thought Patricia could no longer act out.

She needed to understand that Alaisia wasn’t cutting off her family out of old grudges—but for good reason.

Only then would Sara support her wholeheartedly.

“Now do you understand why I want it burned?”

Alaisia snatched the letter from her hand and threw it into the fireplace without a moment’s hesitation.

Flames licked the paper and devoured it quickly. Alaisia watched the letter turn to ash and declared,

 

“Alaisia of Ambrose is dead. Any letters sent to the dead—burn them all.”