98. The Prince’s Woman (1)

I was close to breaking free, but my wrists lacked the strength. The coarse rope dug into my skin, causing sharp pain.

“You’re starting again? Why doubt a done deal?”

One of them grumbled.

“It’s not baseless doubt. Even from a distance, during our preliminary surveillance, she didn’t quite match the description.”

“How so? Did one woman’s eyes sit on her lips or something?”

Their words sliced through the air, each more brutal than the last.

All strength drained from my body. My hands fell limp.

“So if this woman isn’t the Prince’s mistress, what is she then? She matches the description our client provided.”

“Who knows?”

This was it.

The reason Deon called me back, the reason he accompanied me with guards, and persuaded me to come to the capital.

He brought me here to protect her.

He intentionally dressed us the same, creating a disguise.

There was only one reason I had to attend the banquet. Because I had the same red hair as hers. As they said, natural red hair, a trait of a rare ethnic minority, was unique and noticeable.

Dyeing it would be too obvious, and a commoner’s bearing would give them away.

I was the perfect decoy.

It wasn’t to dispel the strange rumors circulating among the nobles or to show me the grand ball where all the nobles gathered.

The real reason he invited me was entirely to protect Isella.

I couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh at the cruel irony.

In the North, I was a blood bag; in the capital, a pawn in social circles; now, I was a shield against threats to his fiancée. It was absurd.

They used everything they could, from head to toe.

I felt like livestock on a butcher’s block, slaughtered without hesitation.

My red hair was to deceive kidnappers, and my blood was to warm Deon’s body. He used me freely because he had paid for me.

It was humiliating.

The fact that they not only used me for blood but also as a shield in high society was infuriating.

I thought I had been careful. I thought I had doubted and questioned enough.

But he was always a step ahead. I was still playing in their hands.

Ha ha.

A laugh forced its way out of my lips.

The words “shield and substitute” from the dining hall now hit me with their full meaning.

Deon had no intention of ending my role as his mistress just for the sake of appearances.

The men in front of me were arguing about whether I was truly the prince’s woman. All but one seemed convinced. They couldn’t fathom that the woman they had kidnapped and tied to a chair could be a fake.

One man joked and laughed again, unaware that they had been deceived. They were utterly clueless.

“Haha…”

This time, I couldn’t suppress the bitter laugh. It was loud enough for them to hear.

“What’s going on? Is she crazy?”

My laughter halted their conversation. The tallest of the group stepped toward me with a confused look.

“Hey, don’t you get the situation? How can you laugh right now?”

My unexpected laughter threw him off. He kicked my chair, causing it to slide backward roughly.

Despite the rough treatment, I couldn’t stop laughing. He grabbed my chin roughly, forcing me to look at him. I glared back, unafraid. The realization of my betrayal permeated my very being, making me fearless.

I stopped laughing, though a smile lingered at the corners of my mouth as I spoke.

“You’ve got it all wrong.”

“What?”

“You’re wrong. You’ve kidnapped the wrong person. I’m not who you’re looking for.”

I spoke clearly, meeting his gaze. His brow furrowed deeply.

“What is she talking about?”

The others, thinking I was just trying to get out of the situation, chuckled.

They didn’t grasp the gravity of the situation. I repeated myself.

“I’m serious. If you’re looking for Prince Deon’s woman, it’s not me.”

Their expressions slowly shifted from skepticism to realization. The chatter ceased, and an uneasy silence filled the air. Especially the man who had led the kidnapping turned pale.

They had messed up, but it wasn’t his fault. He just lacked keen perception. They had mistaken me for her because I matched their description.

The person they were looking for was Isella Sinoa, Deon’s weak spot, and now, his everything.

“If this is a joke, stop it. Do you have a death wish? Do you think this is a place for jokes?”

The man pressed the hilt of his sword against my chin, his voice low and threatening.

The cold metal sent shivers down my spine, but I didn’t look away. The scarred man’s eyebrows slowly knit together as he read my expression. He realized I wasn’t lying.

He released my chin, his frustration evident.

“You idiots. You’ve kidnapped the wrong person. You’ve all been tricked. I’m not his woman.”

I spat out the words, feeling the bitter truth settle in. I finally understood why Deon had dressed me in the same dress—to protect her.

I laughed bitterly, unable to contain the betrayal and fear any longer. Laughing was the only way to release the pent-up emotions.

To them, it must have seemed like the desperate act of a cornered animal.

“Then who are you?” one man asked.

“Me?”

Who am I, indeed.

I stopped smiling and answered.

“Just a substitute. Set up to protect her.”

As I said this, their faces contorted with extreme displeasure.

Seeing their expressions, I felt a deep sense of camaraderie.

Ah, I’m not the only one feeling this way. Frustration, resentment, and a deep sense of betrayal.

That was a bit of a relief. Even though they were kidnappers, I felt a small sense of comfort knowing they shared the same emotions as me. At least I wasn’t the only miserable person in this space.

He grabbed my collar and shook me. Just like when he took my necklace, I couldn’t resist his hand. The design that wrapped around my neck tugged at my chest. The bead decorations on my dress were torn off and scattered everywhere.

I watched the situation unfold calmly, letting my head shake as it was shaken, and my clothes dishevel as they were disheveled. Very leisurely.

Every touch that shook me felt dry and emotionless.

The moment they realized that what they had shaken and grabbed was just worthless trash to the prince, their attitudes turned vicious.

They seemed to have forgotten even the minimal courtesy toward a noble lady. One of them stepped out and roughly yanked my hair. My head tilted to the side.

“Liar. Another person with this hair? This red hair? Didn’t you say it was rare?”

My vision wavered.

The eyes of the man who grabbed my hair were trembling. He raised his voice, as if pleading for it to be a lie. Even that seemed pitiable.

“If you go back to the ball, there will be a woman with the same dress and hair color as me. That’s the woman you were desperately looking for.”

Deon was probably hoping I’d keep my mouth shut until the knights arrived. But I had no intention of complying. If I ran now, I might catch Isella.

See, Deon? It would’ve been better if we had coordinated beforehand. Though I wouldn’t have acted according to your plan anyway. This is the punishment for excluding me, so deal with it.

Seeing the scattered pearls on the floor reminded me of the shock I felt at the ball.

The ball dress wasn’t off-the-rack. Since the Madame made each dress by hand, it was rare for two dresses to overlap at the same ball.

Still, I thought it might have been a misunderstanding because they were from the same designer shop. But to be mocked in this way…

I ground my teeth in frustration.

“Don’t look so disgusted. I was deceived too. I didn’t know that having a similar hairstyle and wearing the same dress was a trap designed for this situation.”

Even so, I trusted him until the end. The reason he insisted on inviting me to the ball was, I hoped, because he still had some feelings for me.

But it was all an illusion.

The man sighed deeply. Then he brought his face closer to mine.

As his face approached, a musty smell hit me.

It was pungent. His scent was a mix of various smells. The burnt residue of a fire, the stale smell of tobacco, and… the thick scent of blood.

I remembered the smell instantly because I’d drawn a disturbing amount of blood before.

But this smell was different from the fresh blood drawn from an arm or neck. It was a smell that only came from old, clotted, and stained blood.

This man had killed many people. These people could kill me in an instant. Right here, right now.

As that thought crossed my mind, my body went limp.

“That can’t be right. You said a woman with red hair and a black dress!”

The man still screamed in disbelief, clinging to a sliver of hope.

“Yes.”

I spat the words out as if chewing them.

The informant wasn’t wrong. They accurately described her features.

However, they didn’t anticipate that there would be a decoy in the same outfit at the party.

“But you should have known there was another woman dressed just like me at the ball. If you were ordered to kidnap her because she’s his weakness, you should also know how precious and noble she is. Would they have left such a woman unprotected?”

Now the pieces finally fit together.

I had resisted attending the ball, and he had to personally put me in the carriage to bring me to the capital.

Even then, I wasn’t on the original guest list. My spot was hastily arranged the day before under Deon’s special instructions.

The reason for forcibly inviting me to the ball was to protect her.

A bitter laugh escaped me once more.

“Are you really not his woman?”

The man who had been standing behind, observing the whole situation, strode up and asked again.

“How many times do I have to tell you? I really am not. For kidnappers, you’re pretty slow on the uptake. I haven’t had any contact with him recently.”

I replied calmly. My chest had settled, and a nonchalant tone slipped into my voice.

“You… how did you handle this?”

The man spun around abruptly. The man standing close to the brazier flinched.