HPBUY Chapter 89

Marquis Richelieu looked at her with a satisfied expression. Dahlia firmly turned away from him, but goosebumps seemed to rise everywhere his sticky gaze touched.

As Dahlia’s lips were parching, the Emperor made an unexpected remark.

“Dahlia, why don’t you take a walk together? I have some urgent matters to discuss with the Duke.”

“As Your Majesty wishes.”

Though the question was directed at her, the answer came from elsewhere. The Duke, with an even more excited face, forcefully pushed Dahlia’s back.

“Marquis Richelieu. I entrust my niece to you.”

“Do not worry, Duke Lowell. I will take good care of the Princess.”

The Marquis replied, stretching his mouth into a long grin. His small eyes, compared to their size, took on an unpleasant color as they faced Dahlia. Dahlia looked at the Emperor desperately, as if grasping at a straw, but he merely smiled softly.

“Have a pleasant walk.”

Her spirits deflated. There was no one here on her side.

“Please go, Princess.”

An unpleasant hand slipped around her waist. Dahlia’s body stiffened, but she couldn’t shake it off.

She walked heavily into the garden with the Marquis. Despite her gloomy mood, the weather was annoyingly sunny.

The Marquis continuously talked about how many mines he owned in the west, how much he earned from diamonds mined there each month – the kind of stories that were already well-known, yet he seemed proud of his possessions.

Dahlia, half-lost in thought, raised her eyes slightly.

“Then, what happened to your previous marriage…?”

“Ah, you need not worry about that.”

The Marquis straightened his posture with a confident attitude.

“My ex-wife was a woman who could not be a proper wife, but you will be different.”

In other words, it depends on what you do. Dahlia let out a small laugh.

Suddenly, she felt the time spent with such a man was too precious to waste. Listening to his nonsense on such a sunny day made her irritated.

Dahlia, who had been quietly following the Marquis, suddenly stopped walking.

“Um, Marquis Richelieu.”

When he turned, Dahlia averted her gaze.

“I think I’m not feeling well… Oh, it seems the meal earlier has not settled well.”

She grimaced with all her might and grabbed her upper abdomen. The Marquis looked momentarily flustered before approaching Dahlia with a meaningful expression. Even in Dahlia’s naive eyes, his underlying intentions were clearly visible.

“Oh, let me take you to the bedroom.”

“No!”

It was a cry almost like a final gasp.

Startled by her own loud outburst, Dahlia stepped back. The Marquis did not retreat either.

“There’s no need to refuse. I cannot bear to leave you alone-”

“It’s really fine. That is… our residence is not far, and there are people around…”

Dahlia, stammering, quickly bowed when some distance was created between them.

“Excuse me, but I’ll go first. It was enjoyable. Marquis Richelieu.”

Dahlia shouted rapidly and turned her body. Her stiff movements became a sprint after a few steps.

Even after returning to her residence, Dahlia couldn’t calm down and breathed heavily. After leaning against the door for a while, she buried her face in her hands.

Why does her life only flow in directions unrelated to her will?

Despite having been compliant all her life, now that marriage was imminent, she couldn’t maintain her composure. The thought of losing her inherited assets to the Duke and being forced into an unwanted marriage was utterly horrifying.

‘I absolutely hate this.’

Dahlia bit her lip as she removed her hands from her face.

Is there no way out?

Her aimless steps stopped in front of the Duke’s bedroom. Staring blankly at the large door, the blue jewel beyond the door flashed in her mind.

She swallowed hard.

If the Grand Duke’s words were true that the ring belonged to the dead Empress… might this not be a definitive trap to catch the Duke’s ankle?

But this would be theft.

Dahlia hesitated at the door for a long time, unable to move.

“Well, what difference does it make?”

It wasn’t the Duke’s possession to begin with. She shouldn’t feel guilty about this. Dahlia rationalized to herself.

Having made her decision, she glanced back. With a mix of urgency and anxiety, she confirmed no one was around before reaching for the doorknob. Dahlia silently opened the door and carefully entered the empty bedroom.

Even though she had confirmed no one was present, her entire body was trembling. Of all things, her first act of courage had to be theft. And of the Duke’s belongings, no less.

Despite her churning insides, Dahlia walked diligently to the drawer and opened the compartment where she had previously placed the box. Fortunately, it seemed the Duke hadn’t touched it again; the box was still there. Dahlia opened the box, confirmed the ring was intact, and quickly closed it.

She took a deep breath before picking up the small box. It took immense courage just to lift a tiny box.

Dahlia finally clutched it in her hand and left the Duke’s bedroom, returning to her own room. Despite the short distance and continued lack of human presence, her heart was pounding wildly.

After breathing heavily while clutching the box for a while, Dahlia nervously opened it again.

The ring was still proudly maintaining its position.

Dahlia looked bewildered even after bringing it with her own hands. Despite having it in her possession, she couldn’t feel its reality.

It seemed to be the most powerful clue to catch the Duke, but would it truly be effective in her hands?

Having committed such a bold act, she feared misplacing the trap and ruining everything.

Driven by a single determination to avoid an unwanted marriage, she had committed theft, but she had no idea what to do next.

Reporting to the Emperor seemed risky. She was unsure if he would take her side. The Emperor seemed no different from the Duke in wanting to use Dahlia to his advantage.

Her mind was chaotic, unable to find direction.

Meanwhile, the option of returning the ring did not exist.

****

“I’m not sure what Your Majesty will think,” the Duke began cautiously after Dahlia and the Marquis had left, leaving him alone with the Emperor.

“In my personal opinion, Marquis Richelieu and Count Portos seem to be the most suitable candidates. Although they cannot compare to the Lowell Duchy, they are from families with deep history and some honor.”

“Indeed, there are no families in the empire now that can stand shoulder to shoulder with the Lowell Duchy,” the Emperor nodded in agreement.

“Moreover, becoming a Marchioness would be too good an opportunity for Dahlia to miss.”

Though she was the Emperor’s bloodline, she was merely a lowly illegitimate child, never recognized as a legitimate heir. Her situation might be similar, but she was entirely different from Marianne or him born of noble blood.

Dahlia’s mother was a maid whom the previous Emperor had been with during a drunken stupor.

At that time, the previous Emperor had been like a man who had lost his mind, unable to find his bearings. Though he had killed his wife, he saw himself as a victim unfairly losing his wife.

He had avoided Sienna as if she were Melophe’s ghost, and while he treated Marianne and Joseph normally, he always seemed to be out of his mind.

Dahlia was born around the second anniversary of Melophe’s death.

The maid who bore the illegitimate child bore no facial resemblance to Melophe, but aside from her face, she strangely reminded one of Melophe.

Her black, curled hair, pearl-white skin, and slender body lines were reminiscent of her.

After Dahlia’s birth, her father returned to his original self. Except for the love that had shifted from Sienna to this new child.

He had always found Sienna detestable, so the loss of her favor was welcome. However, separate from these facts, Joseph found his father despicable and incomprehensible.

Joseph traced his sharp chin and looked out the window.

“If I were Melophe, I would have cursed everyone who contributed to my death while dying.”

“…Are you saying something nonsensical again?” the Duke asked, barely suppressing a sigh. It was both tiresome and pathetic. Father and son, why do they tremble so much over one woman?

“It’s not nonsense when it’s a clear fact that she was a descendant of a witch.”

At Joseph’s retort, the Duke clicked his tongue internally. When they had fabricated and proclaimed the will, he thought they had some nerve, but now it seemed not.

Of course, it was not incomprehensible. Joseph himself was not blameless in Melophe’s death.