Chapter 139: A Conversation to End It All
Damian, ever vigilant about the movements of the ducal family, had recently learned they were scouring through the late duke’s estate with relentless fervor. The reports were vague, stating only that they were “searching for something,” but it was obvious what that something was—a will.
There could only be one reason for the ducal family’s sudden frenzy: a growing fear that Oscar, who had fathered an illegitimate child with a commoner, might lose his place in the line of succession. The family had thrown everything aside, consumed with the desperate hunt for the will. They must have realized this was no longer just about forcing a divorce between Aracila and Damian. Even if Damian and Aracila parted ways, Oscar’s scandal would still leave him at a disadvantage.
Their true aim was clear: destroy the late duke’s will and ensure the current duke could name his own successor.
Whether it’s fortunate or unfortunate, neither they nor I have found the will yet.
The pressure to find it before the ducal family weighed heavily on Damian, but despite his efforts to comb through his grandfather’s vast holdings, the will remained elusive. He had even checked the temple registries under his grandfather’s name, but to no avail.
It’s possible he hid it under someone else’s name.
If so, finding that person would be the key.
Feeling at a loss, Damian let out a weary sigh. Nothing was resolving easily.
When he finished his work and returned home, Aracila was away, attending a party at the Harriet estate to uncover the truth behind the scandal. He had expected her to return late, but to his surprise, she was already there, waiting for him.
“You’re back earlier than I thought, my lady,” Damian said, settling onto the sofa across from Aracila in the study.
She gave a small nod. “Yes, Lady White didn’t put up much of a fight and spilled the truth. It saved me some time.”
“That’s fortunate,” he replied.
“Yes, it is,” she agreed, but her voice carried an odd lack of energy.
Damian’s golden eyes studied her keenly. She seemed subdued, her face clouded with thought. Even now, in the middle of their conversation, she appeared lost in her own musings.
Rising, he moved to sit beside her, his voice gentle. “Did something happen?”
He tilted his head, looking at her with quiet concern, hoping to coax out whatever was troubling her.
Aracila hesitated before speaking. “I learned something new today, and it led me to a shocking theory.”
“What is it?” he asked.
“I’m not certain, but… I think Frederick himself might be behind the scandal.”
Damian wasn’t entirely surprised. He had considered it as one of many possibilities. Frederick clearly had feelings for Aracila, and his reckless behavior—picking fights with Damian without provocation—suggested he was capable of acting on his desires regardless of the consequences.
But he couldn’t say that to Aracila, so he stayed silent. Her next words, however, caught him off guard.
“And I think it’s because he has feelings for me.”
Damian’s breath caught. “Is that so?”
How had she figured it out? He had hoped she would never know about Frederick’s feelings, and the revelation left him with a heavy, conflicted heart. A flicker of unease stirred within him.
Aracila’s troubled expression suggested that Frederick’s unrequited love was the source of her turmoil, but what exactly about it was unsettling her?
After a moment’s hesitation, he spoke. “What do you think about it?”
“About what?” she asked, turning to him.
“His Highness the Crown Prince’s feelings for you,” Damian said, his voice steady but laced with tension. “I’m curious how you feel about it.”
He braced himself, waiting for her response. Aracila turned to meet his gaze, her clear blue eyes locking onto his. Every time those eyes mirrored his own intensity, Damian felt a selfish desire flare within him—a wish that, at least for the duration of their marriage, no one else would claim her heart. Not even Frederick, her close friend and the Crown Prince.
Her full, rosy lips parted. “Honestly, I hope he’s just gone temporarily mad from the stress of his life.”
Damian blinked, caught off guard. “What?”
“I hope his feelings for me aren’t real,” she said firmly. “I’ve never once thought of Frederick as anything more than a friend. I don’t want to, either.”
If she had ever entertained romantic feelings for him, their friendship wouldn’t have lasted this long. Aracila believed in the possibility of platonic friendship between men and women, which made it all the more unthinkable for her to see Frederick in that light.
Watching her furrowed brow, Damian felt the corners of his mouth lift involuntarily. The realization that Frederick didn’t stand a chance brought an undeniable sense of relief.
But he couldn’t let his petty satisfaction show in front of Aracila’s distress. Clearing his throat to mask his smile, he asked, “What do you plan to do next?”
“I’m going to meet him and talk it out,” she said. “There’s a slim chance he’s not the one behind it.”
For Aracila, Frederick’s feelings weren’t the priority. What mattered was confirming whether her friend of seven years had truly caused the scandal that led to her expulsion from the Mage Tower. Only then could she decide how to address it.
She let out a quiet sigh, and Damian’s large hand gently enveloped hers.
“You’ll handle it well, whatever it is,” he said, his voice warm with sincerity.
Frederick was her issue to resolve, and Damian knew he couldn’t interfere out of jealousy or force her hand out of insecurity. Whatever conclusion she reached after their conversation, he was prepared to accept it, as long as it was what she wanted.
“Just remember one thing,” he added. “The choice you make will always be the right one. So don’t worry—just keep moving forward.”
His steadfast support warmed a corner of Aracila’s heart. After recently grappling with self-doubt for the first time in her life, his words felt especially poignant.
How does he always know exactly what I need to hear?
Suddenly, she remembered the gratitude she hadn’t yet expressed—for the letter and gift left at her door. In her rush to unravel the scandal, she hadn’t had a chance to talk to Damian at length until now.
Clearing her throat softly, she called his name in a low voice. “Damian.”
“Yes?”
“Thank you,” she said earnestly. “For what you just said, and for the letter and gift. They gave me the strength to get back up.”
Without Damian, Aracila’s recovery would have taken longer. His presence had anchored her, helping her regain her footing swiftly.
“I’m glad I could be of help,” Damian said, his lips curving into a gentle smile.
Aracila didn’t know, but he had gone through dozens of sheets of paper to craft that single-line letter. Condensing his heartfelt words into one sentence had been a labor, and knowing it had reached her alongside the pendant filled him with quiet satisfaction.
“I believe in you,” he added. “Go, and come back safely.”
“Got it,” Aracila replied, nodding with vigor. The knowledge that she wasn’t alone wrapped her in a mantle of confidence.
* * *
Her meeting with Frederick was arranged quickly. Aracila insisted on visiting him at the imperial palace, reasoning that, given the scandal, a formal setting like the palace would be better than meeting elsewhere.
“This way, my lady,” a servant said, guiding her through the corridors leading to the Crown Prince’s palace. As she walked, Aracila glanced outside, where the resounding shouts of knights in training echoed. These were the elite imperial knights assigned to the Crown Prince’s palace.
Her gaze casually swept over them, then paused on one knight in particular.
He looks familiar…
But she had no time to linger on the thought. Upon reaching the reception room, the servant announced her arrival, opened the door, and stepped back. Aracila entered, and the door closed silently behind her.
Frederick, seated on a sofa, rose with open arms to welcome her. “Aracila, you’re here! I’ve been waiting for you since morning.”
“Really?” she replied, her tone guarded. “And what did you think I came here for?”
“No idea, but seeing your face makes me happy,” he said with a grin. “Is there something I can help with?”
Aracila shook her head and sat across from him. His bright, smiling face seemed like the Frederick she’d always known, but something felt off.
“I have something to ask you,” she said.
“What is it?”
“Did you start the scandal about us?”
Her question was direct, cutting through any pretense. Frederick didn’t seem surprised. He clasped his hands and leaned back against the sofa, relaxed.
“You came all this way to ask that?”
“Answer me honestly,” she pressed.
“It sounds like you’ve already decided the answer,” he said, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
Aracila’s brow twitched. She had hoped for a denial, however slight, but it seemed that wish wouldn’t be granted.
“Why did you do it? Was it really because you have feelings for me?”
Her blunt question made Frederick flinch. How did she figure that out? He ran a hand over his face, sighing.
“I didn’t want to confess like this, but… yes. I’ve loved you for a long time.”
As his admission spilled out, Aracila’s fist clenched tightly. It was the truth she least wanted to hear.
“I loved you before Vandermir ever did,” Frederick continued, his voice unwavering. “I saw you first.”
Oblivious to her reaction, he poured out his feelings without restraint, as if he had nothing left to hide. “I just couldn’t understand why you married Vandermir.”
He leaned forward, closing the distance between them, his crimson eyes burning with a cloying, intense emotion. His voice took on a rough edge, fueled by unshakable conviction. “You’re not that kind of person, Aracila. You’re not someone who falls for a man based on looks or status—someone shallow and fickle.”
“Frederick,” she said sharply.
“You’re incredible, someone who’d sacrifice everything for her dreams,” he pressed on. “So why Vandermir? Why would you compromise your beliefs for him?”
“My marriage to Damian was my choice,” Aracila shot back. “You have no right to question it.”
“Why not?” Frederick snapped, raising his voice for the first time in her presence. Years of suppressed emotions burst forth, unstoppable.
Once unleashed, there was no reining them in. Like a pot boiling over, its lid blown off, his feelings could no longer be contained. “If you knew how I’ve stayed by your side all these years, you wouldn’t talk to me like that.”
“No, Frederick,” Aracila said firmly. “I know now. For seven years, you hid your true intentions, pretending to be my friend while harboring those feelings.”
It stung to realize what she had seen as friendship was one-sided. The disappointment that her trusted friend’s true nature was so petty cut deep, but she pressed on, unshaken. “I have every right to speak to you this way. You’re the one who doesn’t.”
Her words reduced his unrequited love to nothing. Frederick fought to keep his expression from crumpling. “You didn’t marry Vandermir out of love anyway.”
“Who are you to judge my heart?” she retorted.
“Then say it,” he challenged. “Can you honestly say you love him?”
Did she love Damian?
Aracila hesitated, not out of doubt but because she had never deeply considered him in that way.
Frederick seized on her pause, his eyes gleaming. “See? You can’t answer. If you truly loved him, you wouldn’t have calculated anything. I’ve known from the start your heart wasn’t in it.”
“What do you know?” she began, but stopped short. What did he mean by “calculated”?
There was only one thing she had approached calculatingly in her relationship with Damian: the prenuptial contract.
But Frederick shouldn’t know about that.
Not even her family knew. Yet his words carried a disquieting weight she couldn’t ignore. If he didn’t know the specifics but suspected some arrangement between her and Damian…
There’s only one way he could know—by digging into Priest Taylor.
Her mind flashed to the imperial knights she’d seen on her way in. Among their polished ranks, one had stood out, his face vaguely familiar. Now she realized why: he matched one of the faces in the sketches Damian had received. She’d glimpsed him occasionally as Frederick’s escort, which explained the familiarity.
A chill ran through her as the pieces fell into place. Aracila fixed Frederick with an unmasked glare of contempt. “You’ve been spying on me since before my marriage.”
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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