Chapter 9
It was the first time since I came into this body that I let out a genuine laugh.
“…Why are you laughing like that?”
Love, between Henry and me?
Even a stray dog passing by would laugh at that.
“I was just wondering—can it still be called love if there’s no loyalty or affection?”
“Then maybe it wasn’t love. Maybe it was just possession,” Henry replied.
I looked up and let my gaze drift aimlessly for a moment.
It had been a while since I was left speechless like this—unsure of what to say.
“Have you ever truly held anything in your hands?”
These word games were getting exhausting.
Maybe if I were someone who didn’t know the truth, I’d be curious about his answers. But that wasn’t the case.
When I threw the question at him, Henry fell silent.
He stared at me for a while before finally speaking.
“…Interesting.”
The way he had been leaning slightly forward earlier disappeared, as he sank back into his chair again.
“You seem to be nothing like the rumors.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
There had never been much of a connection between Irene and Henry.
Whatever image he had of Irene likely came only from distant rumors.
“You seem wasted, hidden under Deborah’s shadow.”
“Not everyone gets to choose where they live.”
“So you simply never had the chance to step forward?”
The way he kept questioning me made it clear—Henry was growing curious about Irene.
“It’s easier to say it was the fate of the second-born. After all, there’s only one spotlight, and I was cast in its shadow.”
Of course, I wasn’t just talking about Irene.
This comment spoke more truthfully to Henry himself, who had been born not as the heir, but as a prince—destined to be nothing more than the Empire’s diplomatic pawn.
“I thought Your Highness might relate to that.”
At those words, Henry’s fingers—lightly dancing across his knee—suddenly stopped.
“…That’s a bold assumption.”
It was definitely insolent to speak that way to a prince.
But I knew Henry wasn’t someone who cared about formalities like that.
He was… different from the typical royals.
He valued things beyond reputation or pride.
“Speaking as if you know me so well…”
If anything, provoking him like this probably amused him even more.
“That’s why I was debating—should I congratulate you on being freed from a burdensome engagement, or should I offer my condolences for losing your fiancée?”
The truth was, I didn’t trust Henry.
He had every reason to want me dead.
Though it might seem like Henry was born with the power to choose anything, the truth was, he’d never had a choice from the very beginning.
From the moment he was born as the second prince, when succession always favored the firstborn.
The Emperor sealed his fate by forcing an engagement with Mergen’s heir.
The message was clear: do nothing—just live as the bridge between the Empire and Mergen.
“So, I figured congratulations might suit you better.”
I hadn’t meant to provoke him.
I was just curious… whether he really had nothing to do with my death.
Henry didn’t answer right away.
Uncharacteristically, he seemed to be choosing his words carefully.
If he really had been the one who killed me, he wouldn’t have tried to hide it from Irene.
He wouldn’t confess, of course—but he’d make it obvious enough to instill fear. That would make me easier to manipulate.
“…Interesting thought, but I think you’re misunderstanding something.”
Henry responded in his usual calm voice—unfazed.
“Contrary to what you might think, I feel a profound sense of loss over Deborah’s death.”
His voice was level, but the emotion beneath it was unmistakable.
“It’s this filthy, frustrating feeling—that no matter how these ends, I’ve lost more than I’ve gained.”
It was a clear feeling—but one that had no clear place to land.
A sign that Henry wouldn’t give me anything more.
“Then may I report to the Lord that you have no intention of reconsidering?”
I wanted to leave this table.
Even as I was thinking about my own death, I couldn’t help calculating the gains and losses Mergen faced. And that made me sick of myself.
“I was going to say that, but I’ve just changed my mind.”
“…You seem to change your mind quickly.”
What’s he scheming now?
I stared at him, expression calm.
“A completely unexpected variable just showed up.”
Sometimes, when I looked into Henry’s blue eyes, it felt like I was staring into a mirror.
Perhaps it was because I recognized the dark abyss beneath those beautifully shining waves.
“It seems we’ll be seeing each other again, Lady Irene.”
It meant he was willing to renegotiate the terms.
But why?
Why would someone who had shown no such intention suddenly change his mind?
“I just couldn’t reach a firm conclusion today. It didn’t feel right to finalize things in one go.”
Henry offered me his hand with his usual warm smile.
I stared at it in silence.
The wheels of the carriage bearing the Imperial crest rolled soundlessly past the gates of the Mergen estate.
Inside the perfectly smooth, jolt-free carriage, Henry quietly watched the Mergen manor fade into the distance.
“Why didn’t you conclude things today, Your Highness?”
His aide, Melik, glanced down at the negotiation documents—still entirely blank.
Henry’s eyes eventually moved from the manor to the papers.
‘Have you ever truly held anything in your hands?’
‘I thought you’d prefer congratulations over condolences.’
That voice echoed in his ears.
“…Strange, isn’t it?”
Irene Mergen.
Deborah’s younger sister, barely known to anyone.
He had once glimpsed her from afar—a pale, frail woman who looked like she’d disappear if you touched her.
Back then, she was too insignificant to provoke even the slightest curiosity.
“But those eyes today… they felt disturbingly familiar.”
The look in her eyes had been enough to erase all previous impressions of her.
“She was outrageously bold—yet slipped through my grasp like someone who knew exactly how far she could go.”
“Couldn’t we just charge her with royal defamation and be done with it?”
“And yet, that’s the problem—it only makes her more interesting.”
A smile tugged at Henry’s lips.
“I almost lost my temper like some adolescent boy.”
There had been landmines laced throughout the conversation—delicately buried, ready to go off at the slightest provocation.
And yet, navigating around them, reading one another—it had been…
“You seemed to enjoy it, Your Highness.”
“Yes. Enjoy is the perfect word.”
Henry placed a quiet period on his thought.
“I really thought there was nothing left in Mergen to interest me. But my instincts are telling me—this isn’t over.”
“A shame to dismiss such an opportunity just for amusement.”
Melik’s comment made Henry chuckle.
“Well then, what should I do? I seem to want to keep watching Mergen a little longer.”
“The future of Mergen is clear, isn’t it? Sir Abel has returned. He’ll be the next head of the house. He’s a difficult man to read—things might become more complicated from here.”
“Hm.”
Henry gave a vague, unreadable smile.
“But what if it’s not Abel? What if Deborah’s twin sister became the heir instead?”
“That’s impossible. The retainers already have a solid stance.”
Melik shook his head, dismissing the idea.
“Even the servants call Lady Irene the ‘foolish girl.’ She’s never held a sword or a pen—just flowers, at best.”
“Hm…”
Henry recalled the Irene he met today.
To think that woman held flowers in those hands…
“Then those flowers must have been poisonous.”
It made no sense.
How many kinds of people had he seen in his lifetime?
At the very least, he knew how to distinguish between predators and prey.
Irene Mergen.
If she’d managed to live while hiding her claws all this time, then she had deceived everyone far more perfectly than he’d thought.
‘You sound confident.’
He remembered the quiet voice that had fallen like dew on a blade of grass—laced with mockery beneath its calm surface.
“It was the Lord who sent Irene Mergen to the engagement negotiation, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. Honestly, I can only assume the shock of Lady Deborah’s death pushed him to irrational choices…”
“It would be a terrible mistake for Mergen to abandon its bloodline.”
“Excuse me?”
Melik reacted to Henry’s suddenly serious tone.
“Power passed down through blood. It’s something even the people of the Empire regard as sacred—Mergen’s unique legacy.”
“But…”
“If that lineage is broken, then next it’ll be Chloe’s child… then the child of some noble… then eventually some country bumpkin’s brat.”
“….”
“Once a single step is lowered, everyone will try to climb. And Mergen’s name will be dragged through the mud.”
“It’s inevitable, though. No family—no matter how prestigious—can escape ruin once its power is gone.”
Melik shook his head firmly.
Even if the House of Mergen had made history, he believed it was only natural for such a house to fall once it lost its strength.
“It seems the current Lord doesn’t wish for that outcome—at least, not yet.”
Henry’s gaze left the documents and turned to the carriage window.
The scenery outside rushed past.
“Maybe something’s finally shifting in this stagnant house. If we don’t brace ourselves, we might get swept up in it too.”
“Surely… you’re not saying your position has changed in just a few hours?”
Melik asked, cautious.
Henry closed his eyes and replied slowly.
“No. Of course not. Unless, of course, Mergen turns out to have even more worth stealing than I thought.”
He leaned his head against the back of the seat.
But for some reason, the smile that always played on his lips… was gone.
