Chapter 17
When I glanced up, I saw him staring at me intensely.
Maybe that’s why my heart felt like it was shrinking.
I slowly moved my gaze.
His sharp eyes, sculpted face, and neatly shaped eyebrows—every feature was exquisite.
Even the slight droop of his eyelids gave off a refined charm.
Locking eyes with him made my heart race, and my mouth went dry.
“……”
I swallowed nervously, worried that he might have heard it.
Then, a deep voice, rough like it was scraping the floor, seeped into my ears.
“You hold up pretty well. Most people look at my body like I’m some pitiful stray dog. Some even tear up, acting all miserable.”
Claude spat out his words bitterly.
So that’s why. That’s why he hated showing his body to others.
I looked at him for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly.
“More like they’re jealous. I’ve never seen someone as perfect as you, Your Highness.”
“Perfect? With this damned body?”
“You have a beautiful appearance and noble blood. That’s perfection itself. Besides, your illness isn’t a problem—I’ll take care of it.”
I replied with a bright smile.
For a moment, his deep, ocean-like eyes wavered slightly.
His gaze, darker than the depths of the sea, stayed fixed on me.
The atmosphere turned oddly heavy, making me feel awkward.
I quickly opened my bag and searched through it.
Then, I pulled out a clear medicine bottle and handed it to Claude.
“It seems like you have insomnia, so I made a sleeping aid for you. If you take this and get a good night’s rest, you’ll feel much better.”
I expected him to refuse it, but surprisingly, he took the bottle without resistance.
Though, of course, his words were still rough.
“Now get out. I can’t sleep with someone around.”
As I watched him sip the medicine in one gulp, I turned to leave.
Then, a newspaper article flashed through my mind.
[Prince Claude Vial de Vertha’s Secret Engagement – Who Is His Fiancée?]
“Um…”
Just as I was about to speak, I saw that Claude had already laid down and closed his eyes.
Oh well.
I wrote a short note in the blank space of the newspaper on the table, then walked to the door.
Before stepping out, I glanced back.
He was sleeping peacefully, looking as beautiful as a finely crafted gemstone.
If only he would keep his mouth shut, he’d be an angel.
With a small smirk, I carefully opened the door and left, making sure not to wake him.
The Next Morning
Warm morning sunlight streamed through the curtains.
Claude, feeling well-rested for the first time in a while, got up with ease.
As he sat on the sofa, his eyes landed on a crumpled piece of paper on the table.
With a frown, he picked it up and unfolded it.
[I wanted to talk to you about the newspaper article. Please read this when you wake up.]
After scanning the note, his gaze shifted to the newspaper.
[Prince Claude Vial de Berta Engagement Rumors]
The moment he saw the bold headline, his sharp eyebrows furrowed.
He reached out, shook the bell, and Alvin, who had been waiting outside, immediately entered.
Claude tossed the newspaper onto the table and motioned with his chin.
“It looks like we have a rat. Find out who leaked this to the press.”
“Understood, Your Highness.”
Alvin quickly left to carry out the order.
‘Please keep the wedding a secret until the ceremony. I beg you.’
The desperate plea of Aselin echoed in Claude’s mind like a hallucination.
He leaned back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, then rubbed his forehead.
A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over him, and he closed his eyes, mumbling under his breath.
“…Damn it. Why does this bother me so much?”
Frustrated, he ran a hand over his face.
He ended up doing nothing all afternoon, just waiting for Alvin to return with news.
After several hours, the door finally opened, and Alvin entered with a serious expression.
“Your Highness, you were right. The one who leaked the engagement article to the newspaper was Duke Spiegel. It seems he placed a spy inside the castle to keep an eye on you.”
Claude’s eyes burned with fury.
“Who’s the rat?”
“We’ve locked down the castle gates and are searching thoroughly. We’ll find them soon.”
Claude glared toward the palace, towering high against the evening sky.
Then, suddenly, he stood up from the sofa.
The crimson sunset painted the world outside like spilled ink.
“I’m going to the palace. Prepare the carriage.”
“You’re… going to the palace?”
Alvin hesitated, his face tense.
“If this is Duke Spiegel’s doing, then you know exactly who’s behind him.”
He mustered the courage to try and stop Claude.
“Your Highness, as you know, it would be wise to stay out of sight for now—”
Claude’s eyes snapped open, radiating a terrifying aura.
His crimson gaze was laced with killing intent.
“So, you’re telling me to hide and live like a coward?”
“N-No, that’s not what I meant. I just think the timing isn’t right…”
Before Alvin could finish, Claude strode past him and out of the room.
[More like they’re jealous. I’ve never seen someone as perfect as you, Your Highness.]
Aselin’s ridiculous words echoed in his mind once more.
As he walked down the hallway, sunlight streamed through the windows, casting golden reflections on the floor.
Claude squinted against the brightness.
For some reason, the way the sunlight persistently shone into his eyes reminded him of Aselin.
Elsewhere…
Click.
The hidden safe inside the laboratory creaked open.
A single gold bar sat proudly in the center.
I beamed at the sight, grinning ear to ear.
This was the result of my hard work—saving every coin, selling medicines, and living frugally.
I blew on the gold bar and polished it with a soft cloth, admiring its shine.
As I polished the gold bar until it shone like a mirror, a smile naturally appeared on my face.
Having just one felt amazing—imagine if this safe were filled with them…
My lips curled up as I got lost in my imagination.
Saving little by little was pointless.
I needed a way to make a lot of money in a short time.
As I scratched my cheek, deep in thought, an idea suddenly struck me.
From my past life’s memories, I knew that an epidemic would hit the empire this fall.
If I could produce a large quantity of medicine in time, I could become incredibly rich.
As I considered this plan, another thought came to mind.
[Brother’s factory is about to shut down.]
Rachel’s words echoed in my head.
Today was the day I had planned to deliver medicine to the general store, so I decided to stop by Pierre’s factory as well.
I quickly got ready and headed out.
With each step, the bottles of medicine in my bag clinked together.
At the general store, I sold 100 stamina-boosting pills and received a heavy pouch of gold coins in return.
I also picked up the evidence I had requested from Betty a while ago.
That detective specialized in catching frauds, and I was pleased with the fast results.
As I left the store, a familiar figure caught my eye.
Reddish-brown hair and an arrogant stride.
Pierre was stumbling drunkenly down the street, clearly having had too much to drink.
Perfect timing. He’s probably heading to the factory.
I quickly followed him.
He was so drunk he didn’t even notice me tailing him.
Pierre kept drinking, spilling alcohol down his chin as he struggled to hold the bottle properly.
Shaking my head, I trailed him for two blocks until we arrived at a massive factory.
Pierre staggered inside.
I waited a moment before slipping through the open door.
A strong, acrid smell hit my nose.
I silently climbed the stairs and stood on the second-floor railing, looking down at the factory.
In my past life, I had only worked in my lab making medicine—I had never visited the factory.
I had always been curious about how my medicines were mass-produced.
But what I saw was disappointing.
The working conditions were terrible.
It was called a factory, but it was almost entirely manual labor.
Large men struggled as they shifted millstones with ropes tied around their bodies. Workers carried steaming hot liquids without any protective gear.
Pierre’s voice suddenly rang out.
“Who told you to eat? Get back to work!”
At his shout, the workers who had been eating quickly scrambled to their feet.
One elderly woman, slow to pack up her lunch, caught Pierre’s attention.
Furious, he stomped over and smacked the food out of her hands.
The lunchbox hit the ground with a splatter.
“Oh no… such a waste…”
The old woman hurriedly picked up the dirt-covered bread.
Pierre sneered and crushed the bread under his boot.
“I’m about to go bankrupt, and you care about this? Is this stupid piece of bread more important than my business?!”
• ❁ • ❁ • ❁ •By Freya• ❁ • ❁ • ❁ •
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