“This is the most shocking fact I’ve learned this year,” Harty spoke with a drained voice, conveying his sincerity.
Britia couldn’t help but think that perhaps he had finally lost his mind from the shock of being rejected by Kyra.
“Count Slanford, although I don’t know you well, if you feel dizzy or unwell, please lie down. Should I bring you cold water instead of tea?”
As Britia stood up from her seat and spoke, Harty was startled and quickly covered his mouth with both hands. His reaction was as if he had heard that someone was trying to poison him, and Britia felt embarrassed.
“Would warm water be better?”
Can’t he drink cold water? In response to Britia’s question, Harty clenched his lips tightly, held his breath, and then burst out all at once.
“Oh, Goddess, why did you bestow this trial upon me!”
Now with both hands clasped in front of his lips, Harty closed his moistened eyes and sought solace. A single tear trickled down his cheek.
“But now I understand. Ah, finally, the obstructed view, like a foggy day, has cleared for this foolish yet beautiful man.”
As if he had made up his mind, Harty nodded his head while gazing into the empty air.
“I have decided to acknowledge you, Britia Lockhart.”
Harty uttered with a trembling voice, struggling to speak.
“…Does that mean you don’t find me ugly?”
To the bewildered Britia, Harty slowly nodded his head.
“Please tell me honestly. You didn’t come here to meet Kyra, but to confront me.”
“Not at this moment.”
“So, you did come to confront me.”
Britia glared at him with a defiant look, but Harty remained unfazed and continued with what he wanted to say.
“It still feels uncomfortable to help you honestly, but I’ve decided to gradually accept it.”
Britia doubted her ears.
‘Helping her? Who? Harty Slanford, me? Why?’
“If you’re trying to deceive me strangely, Lord Count, I won’t fall for it.”
As Britia spoke cautiously, Harty suddenly cleared his throat and adjusted his collar.
“It means I acknowledge that you are a match for Duke Turas.”
“What? Why all of a sudden?”
Taken aback by his sudden and significant change in mood, Britia was startled.
Of course, she would be surprised. Wasn’t he the man who had been causing such a fuss, urging her to break up with Sig, calling her impure and a stone?
“I momentarily forgot the fact that I am an angel sent by the Goddess to the mortal realm.”
Even angels can make mistakes sometimes.
Harty nodded repeatedly, rationalizing it.
“My role as an angel is to connect the two of them.”
“…If you’re really in pain, I’ll call a doctor.”
Britia said, realizing that she shouldn’t hastily judge his condition from her perspective. However, Harty ignored her words.
“I will teach you about the human you should pay attention to from now on. Concentrate and remember well. It’s the words of the Angel.”
Britia’s lips parted.
A human she should pay attention to? She didn’t need to think about it. It was undoubtedly Harty Slanford, or rather, Count Slanford.
“Rutherford claims that he almost died because of Kyra. She hit his head with a bottle or something.”
Why would the person she should pay attention to be saying something like that?
Britia had a strange thought in her mind, but she paused momentarily at his following words.
“Is it you?”
Britia forcibly held back a gasp to avoid giving away her surprise. She pretended to remain calm and silently took a deep breath through her nose.
“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
She opened her mouth, hoping her voice wouldn’t tremble.
“It’s true that I went to see you. But we’ve never met. That day, I was waiting for Duke Scandars at their Mansion. Of course, Kyra was with me.”
Britia’s voice was nonchalant, but her pupils trembled ever so slightly. Harty noticed that she was trying to deceive him and let out a derisive chuckle.
“While it’s true that Rutherford embezzled estate funds, stealing one gold at a time, and siphoned off a total of 100 gold under my name, he is still the heir.”
How did he manage to embezzle money by taking one gold at a time?
Britia’s eyes widened at the unfamiliar revelation.
“Even though he caused a commotion claiming that the heir was almost killed, Scanders still hasn’t sent any news to you or Kyra from the Scandars estate. Why do you think that is?”
“…Lord Duke believes in her innocence.”
She said the words, but Britia lacked confidence.
“Leave aside Uncle for now and focus on Rutherford? That impulsive man would even come after Kyra to Lockhart.”
If that were the case, Harty remarked with a grim expression, this place would have turned into chaos.
“The reason that hasn’t happened is because Duke Scandars wants Kyra to stay here and has quietly dealt with Rutherford. He’s hoping to gain some leverage by having his daughter bond with you.”
“Leverage?”
Britia tilted her head in confusion. What benefit could there be from Kyra bonding with her? Harty let out a hollow laugh in response.
“Why are you acting like this? You know very well that Kyra still doesn’t have a prince consort.”
“Well, yeah… but could it be?”
Britia was startled and asked in disbelief. Did he mean to say that if Kyra bonded with her, she could become a princess consort?
“That’s right.”
‘No, I don’t have any power!’
Britia quickly shook her head, denying her capabilities. But Harty urged her to listen for a moment.
“It’s been more than ten years since Uncle and other noble families started aiming for the position of prince consort. But His Highness is so strict.”
As he spoke, it was true that the prince had no gaps. He never responded to any advances, and he never escorted anyone except for the Empress Mother, nor did he dance with anyone.
However, during national events, he would occasionally dance with the young ladies who wanted to dance with him. But there was never a second dance with the same lady, and he never showed any signs of specifically inviting or favoring any particular young lady afterwards.
“He only shows interest in art, so he occasionally attends theater performances or concerts. But it’s not easy for just anyone to receive an invitation.”
But I always receive an invitation without fail. Feeling proud of that fact, Harty smirked and chuckled, then suddenly grew serious.
“But then, our Duke Scandars keeps insisting on me. He tells me to take Ashley to those gatherings!”
By the way, Ashley is Kyra’s younger sister. Seeing Britia’s momentary puzzled expression, Harty explained.
“But I dislike Ashley. She’s too mischievous for her age. She’s the one who secretly spat on Rutherford’s cookie, which resulted in me getting beaten up.”
Harty trembled as he recalled the unpleasant memory of her.
“And how can you bring someone who hasn’t received an invitation? Would His Highness allow that?”
Indeed, there was a certain Count who, without being invited, brought his younger sister and annoyed him throughout the entire concert. As a result, that Count was never invited again.
“But surprisingly, this time, His Highness made an exception and allowed a partner.”
Anyone with a sense of perception could figure out who that partner might be.
“Who will be His Highness’s partner? All the noble families have been eagerly waiting for the invitation.”
“But His Highness didn’t have a partner.”
“That’s right. But amazingly, there was a woman who, although not a partner, had the privilege of sitting beside His Highness.”
It’s you. It’s you.
Harty gazed directly at Britia, his lips curling into a smirk.
“It was too difficult to strategize against Her Majesty the Empress or try to win over His Highness. But one day, you appeared with your innocent-looking face that seemed so easy to manipulate. Of course, I wouldn’t resist trying to win you over, would I?”
And to think she had been getting close to Duke’s daughter without even realizing it? Wasn’t this going too far?
“I heard that you were invited by His Highness to enter the inner garden not too long ago.”
“How did you know?”
Britia asked in surprise, and Harty chuckled, crossing his arms.
“Do you think I have no eyes in the palace? Or ears? Or even a mouth?”
“But, Lord Count, that’s…”
While it was true that she was invited and had entered the inner garden, the premise was wrong from the beginning.
“It’s true that His Highness initially invited me. But the second invitation was not for me, it was for Kyra. Because of her painting…”
Britia stopped herself mid-sentence, realizing her mistake. Harty paused for a moment, then suddenly widened his eyes and glared at Britia.
“Uncle doesn’t care about those details. He just thinks that if he places his daughter by His Highness’s side, everything will work out. The post-war situation means nothing to him.”
It was evident from his lack of concern that the youngest daughter, Ashley, whom he had pushed as the Crown Princess, was inconsequential. That’s why he was so furious when Kyra was taken to the theater instead of Ashley.
Harty recalled Duke Scandars’ face as he accused him of ruining everything.
“Do you know what he said to me this morning? ‘My beloved nephew,'” Harty exclaimed.
To observe the situation with Duke Scandars, Harty had discreetly sought him out, only to be embraced by the duke with a warm smile. At that moment, Harty felt a chill run down his spine and almost let out a scream in front of the duke, forgetting all about his dignity.
“He says that to me too, but you’re the one who brought Kyra in front of His Highness. You’re trying to be so beautiful that it’s killing me.”
Harty uttered the words, sounding completely unimpressed as he looked at Britia. Unconsciously, Britia bit her lower lip.
“That’s why you need to be careful. Uncle will do anything to gently coax you into making Kyra the Crown Princess.”
Britia pursed her lips in response to Harty’s warning. She understood his words well. However, there was a problem with Duke Scandars’ expectations. Kyra had already asked the Crown Prince to be her matchmaker.
“He might try to manipulate you to make it seem favorable for you, but it won’t work. Rutherford will take care of that. The real problem is still Robley.”
Britia flinched at the mention of Robelidge’s name, considering whether to bring up the mediation story or not.
“I knew that the Duke and Duchess of Robley were proud and self-centred individuals who liked to control others, but I didn’t know it was to such an extreme extent.”
Harty clicked his tongue in surprise.
“I was completely indifferent to them, and yet they’re picking a fight with me, the innocent one.”
Harty couldn’t forget the words Lady Robley had muttered about him at the café. Rumors were spreading that he was meddling in various affairs.
At that moment, Kyra had spoken up with a single word, and Harty had simply stood there, chuckling to himself. But he had no intention of just letting it slide.
So he sought out some useful information about Lady Robley. The southern faction, known for their closed nature and deep loyalty to Robley, made it difficult to uncover anything, but Harty had managed to find a few facts.
“I thought Lockhart was trying to keep Robley at bay by challenging her to a duel, but it seems they’ve been doing that for a while now?”
Britia furrowed her brows slightly and tilted her head, not quite understanding what he was saying.
“They’ve been blocking your path just to spite you, for no reason at all.”
“…What do you mean?”
Harty made a surprised sound at her reaction.
“You didn’t know? Ah, that’s why the goddess asked me to save this naive woman.”
Harty looked at Britia with pity, slightly bowing his upper body as if he were sharing a secret.
“Do you remember the party Lockhart held before? Strangely, there were no guests.”
At that moment, Britia froze, as if she had been struck on the head.
“That was because of Robley’s influence.”
EGAD!