“H-Hiiik!”
At the chillingly murderous aura that felt like it would tear into her throat, Pirina collapsed onto the floor in sheer terror, dragging herself backward on her rear as if trying to escape.
The Duke, who had been looking down at her with a gaze full of contempt, finally spoke.
“Gold coins? Do you truly believe that is the only issue here?”
“U-Urk...”
Her chin trembled uncontrollably, her teeth clattering together. Overwhelmed by the oppressive energy suffocating the space, Pirina recalled something with growing dread.
No way... Did he find out about that, too?
The truth was, arranging the meeting with the Second Prince had hidden, far more sinister intentions.
The royal family had planned to use the engagement as an excuse to hold Beatty hostage.
A political pawn—an insurance policy to keep the Duke in check. His rising military prestige, bolstered by his victories in war, had become too great a threat.
But that plan had already failed because the brat ran away.
Pirina, now sweating profusely, darted her eyes around anxiously.
“The capital entry ban.”
“!”
The Duke’s words struck her like a bolt of lightning.
This was information he had learned firsthand upon his return from the battlefield, even before receiving the report from the First Prince.
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As he closely observed the criminal’s reaction, the Duke continued.
“You must have heard of it.”
Pirina visibly flinched, her shoulders jerking. Her voice trembled as she tried to answer.
“W-What do you mean...?”
Damn it! That restriction was supposed to be lifted once she was secured as a hostage! How did he find out?
Her thoughts raced.
“The law prohibiting noble houses with over a thousand private soldiers from entering the capital.”
It was an obvious ploy. Only one house in the entire kingdom had such military strength—the Ducal House of Aslan. The law had been designed solely to target them.
“W-Well, I... I might have heard something like that,” Pirina stammered, forcing out a fake chuckle. “But honestly, isn’t that a ridiculous proposition? It’s such an absurd notion that I must have dismissed it from my mind right away.”
“I see.”
The Duke’s cold response made her rambling explanation stretch out even longer.
“If that ‘absurd’ law had been enacted, I would have been barred from even visiting my own daughter.”
Gulp.
Pirina’s throat went dry.
“And yet, you were aware of this matter.”
The killing intent in the air thickened. It felt as if an invisible hand was squeezing her neck.
“And still, you said nothing.”
“T-They wouldn’t have actually enforced it!”
Suffocated by the oppressive weight of the Duke’s presence, Pirina hurriedly spat out an excuse.
“It must have been the work of some overzealous official! There’s no way the royal family would actually move against the Duke’s house!”
While she desperately struggled to distance herself from the situation—
Blink, blink.
Beatty, hearing all of this for the first time, rapidly fluttered her pine-colored eyelashes.
There was a law that prevented Father from entering the capital...?
Though it seemed it had yet to be enforced, judging by the way her father’s expression hardened like stone, it was a real and imminent threat.
Then maybe...
In her past life, she had never even heard a whisper about this.
If she hadn’t coincidentally confronted her aunt together with her father this time, she might have remained ignorant once again.
Could it be? Was there another reason Father never came to the capital mansion?
Until now, she had believed it was because he hated her—
Because she was the daughter who had taken his wife from him.
Because she was a half-blood beastkin, a disgrace to his lineage.
But what if...
A flood of tangled possibilities stormed through Beatty’s mind.
“The House of Aslan had just finished fighting a war for the kingdom! Would they really have plotted such treachery against such a noble family?”
As if she had suddenly grown a conscience, Pirina now played the role of a passionate defender of the Ducal House.
As if.
Just moments ago, she had been more than willing to sacrifice Beatty as a hostage to ensure that very law would pass.
Of course, she hadn’t said that part out loud.
But now, caught in a corner, she frantically tried to exonerate herself.
“......I.”
Beatty took a deep breath and steadied her voice.
But her words were not meant for her aunt.
Looking up with trembling eyes, she gazed at the Duke and asked,
“I thought... you didn’t come because you didn’t want to see me.”
Regardless of the answer, she had chosen to hear it from him directly.
“What?”
Her father sounded genuinely taken aback.
Though he stood right before her, for some reason, his figure blurred as if reflected in water.
“Why would you think that...?”
His voice, almost desperate, rang in her ears.
Beatty, unknowingly holding back tears, asked,
“Was it because you couldn’t?”
She feared she was twisting the truth into something she selfishly wanted to believe.
But she could not hold back.
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“Even if not always, was there ever... even once, a time when you wanted to come but couldn’t?”
Just once.
Just a single time.
She wanted to hear him say yes.
“......”
The Duke could not answer immediately.
The large, black eyes before him, shimmering with crystal-like tears, were filled with anxious anticipation.
And it was because of him that she had felt that uncertainty.
Shame filled him.
“...I am sorry.”
His voice trembled with self-reproach.
Even as he reached out, his hands—hardened by years of swordsmanship—hesitated, afraid of causing harm.
Still wearing his gloves, he gingerly took her tiny hand and placed it atop his own palm.
“For all the time you were alone... for not being there.”
The warmth of his hand spread into her small fingers, traveling through her body like a gentle tide.
Perhaps, for the first time, she realized how cold her hands had always been.
The Duke’s voice shook with emotion.
Words he had never spoken in his life—words of atonement—left his lips.
Lowering his head as if in prayer, pressing his forehead against the back of her hand, he whispered his confession.
“I am sorry for making you feel lonely.”
Hearing those words, Beatty smiled.
Brightly, beautifully.
And then—
Thud.
“...! Aga!”
The moment she collapsed, the Duke caught her in his arms.
Panic surged through him.
Her small frame, which had been full of warmth just moments ago, was now frighteningly hot.
All color drained from the Duke’s face.
“Call the physician! Bring the physician immediately!”
His command rang through the halls, sending the vassals into swift motion.
“You, go fetch the physician at once!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Hurry! Bring hot water and everything needed for the lady’s care!”
While his men scrambled, the Duke carried Beatty to the adjacent chamber and gently laid her on the bed.
It was his office’s attached room—the closest place with proper bedding.
But with his large frame, the bed seemed far too oversized for the tiny girl.
She looked even smaller than usual.
Why does this child have to suffer again?
Throb.
A pain he could never grow accustomed to pierced his heart.
Holding her small hand, he muttered, almost unconsciously,
“If only...”
If only he could bear this pain in her stead.
If only he could take on all her suffering.
The helplessness of being unable to do anything twisted his expression in anguish.
“Pant... pant... Your Grace! I came as fast as I could—”
“The child has collapsed.”
The Duke stepped aside, allowing the physician to examine her.
Feeling the weight of his liege’s intense gaze on his back, the physician wiped his sweat and did everything he could.
After a thorough examination, he sighed in relief.
“She is not sick.”
“What?”
The Duke’s golden eyes sharpened, nearly making the physician recoil in terror.
“I-I mean! She merely collapsed from a sudden fever.”
“That is an illness.”
The Duke’s face darkened ominously.
Fearing for his own life, the physician quickly clarified,
“High fevers are common in children, especially under stress or excitement.”
The Duke narrowed his eyes.
“Then explain why neither I nor Carlitus experienced such a thing.”
“......”
Because you two are not normal humans...!
Suppressing that thought, the physician forced a diplomatic response.
“Because, Your Grace... the young lady is different from you.”
The physician swallowed his true thoughts and instead spoke in a composed manner.
“This is most likely due to the sudden stress of being surrounded by many people, or perhaps the child became too deeply engrossed in something.”
He explained that it was simply a sudden fever—nothing more.
Now that she had been given a medicinal herbal infusion to lower her temperature, all that was left to do was wait.
After finishing his diagnosis, the physician took his leave.
Left alone with his daughter, the Duke silently watched Beatty as she breathed faintly, her small chest rising and falling.
Then, at last, he spoke.