Chapter 97
“Are you saying we should rob these guys blind right now?”
“If you’re thinking of stealing someone else’s money, you should at least be prepared to lose your own. Following the law won’t fix people like this. Giving them a mental shock would be better.”
Hermia responded indifferently, as if to say, Is that even a problem?
“Seems like one of them already left this world without getting a chance to fix his ways…”
Gerald nervously glanced back. The man who had a sword at his throat just moments ago was still lying motionless in the same spot.
Even if it was self-defense… someone died. Was this really okay?
“He’s not dead. You’re more faint-hearted than I thought.”
Hermia let out a deep sigh, then walked over to the man. She lifted his head with both hands, revealing a red mark stamped across his forehead.
It wasn’t from the blade, but from the rounded pommel of the sword. The man wasn’t dead—he was simply knocked out.
“Satisfied? Before he wakes up, grab what you can—wait, where’s Crow? When did he disappear again?”
Relieved, Gerald cautiously moved closer.
The other thugs lying quietly on the ground were the same. The severity of their injuries varied, but if you leaned in, you could hear steady breathing.
“Oh, yeah, I knew he wasn’t dead. I was just saying.”
Trying to save face, Gerald crouched down. But now his hands hesitated.
“……”
He had threatened a bookstore owner before to get a book, but this was his first time personally taking money. He thought he’d left behind any sense of royal dignity, but maybe not completely.
While he was mumbling to himself, Hermia was already focused on her task again. Resolving himself, Gerald diligently collected coins and crumpled bills.
“Looks like we’re done.”
Since they had emptied all the pockets, he thought that was it. But now he saw Hermia taking off someone’s shoes.
“Ah, knew it. He hid some in here too.”
Without a hint of disgust, she grabbed the bills tucked in the sole with her bare hands. In more ways than one, she was truly impressive.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just finish up.”
If she hadn’t been registered in the Count’s family, she wouldn’t be some cliché villainess from a novel, she’d probably be a boss ruling the backstreets.
Gerald was imagining Hermia commanding dozens of petty thieves at her feet, when she suddenly turned her head as if something came to mind.
“You should prepare a reward, Your Highness. If it weren’t for me, you might be dead. You’d better give me something nice, got it?”
Ah, scratch that. Not just the backstreets, she could easily run several crime syndicates.
“I saved a royal life, so you better pay me accordingly. Understand?”
With the guts to extort a prince, she couldn’t be compared to small-time crooks.
“…Yeah. Got it.”
Carefully, Gerald removed a pickpocket’s shoe using a hand wrapped in a handkerchief. It was one of his favorites, but it was going straight to the trash after this.
“What are you going to do with your reward money? Already stashing away secret funds behind your husband’s back?”
He asked, face scrunched up from the awful foot odor. Hermia replied calmly.
“I’m going to buy Walter a birthday present. I almost forgot if Emily hadn’t mentioned it.”
Ah. A birthday present.
Now that he thought about it, it was around that time of year. His paused hands resumed their work.
“Did Emily not tell you anything else?”
“Like what?”
“That our dear Colonel hates his birthday.”
Gerald said it with a faint, bitter smile.
Every year, Duke Leonard would throw a grand party, parading Walter around like merchandise. ‘This is my grandson! The promising future leader of House Rockford!’ No way that left good memories.
Gerald decided not to be overly generous with details.
Just telling her he didn’t like birthdays was enough. No need to say more.
“If you’re planning some surprise party, you might want to rethink it. Odds are, he’ll hate it.”
“…Hmm.”
Hermia seemed to consider this for a moment before slowly getting up. She dusted off her dress and tucked the money into her pocket, gazing at it quietly.
“Still, I’d like to get him at least one present. Hopefully something he’ll like. What do you think Walter needs?”
“A ceasefire? An end to the war? If not that, world peace?”
“If you’re just going to rain on my parade, you can leave now, Your Highness.”
Gerald hurried to follow Hermia as she walked away from the alley. His heart was suddenly restless.
“He’s the second richest guy in this country after the royal family. Does he even need anything?”
“There’s no such thing as someone who needs nothing. The more money you have, the more things you want. That’s just how it is.”
“He’s not materialistic. He probably doesn’t want much at all.”
“Then I’ll just gift myself. Oh, that’s a good idea. I could put a ribbon on my head…”
“Lady Hermia, don’t tell me you actually like that guy?”
Gerald blurted it out as he quickly overtook her. Hermia’s expression twisted almost instantly.
Gerald instinctively realized he’d stepped on a landmine.
A clear mistake.
“What’s wrong with a wife loving her husband?”
“That’s not it, Lady Hermia was originally…”
“It’s not Lady Hermia, it’s the Duchess. And it’s not that guy, it’s Walter.”
Her icy tone made Gerald fall silent. She wasn’t hiding her displeasure at all.
“I figured you might’ve followed me or messed up the titles, fine. But even if you’re a prince, there are lines you shouldn’t cross. Don’t ever do this again.”
With that, she brushed past him, cold and heartless.
Gerald stood there, frozen like a statue, staring at her fading figure.
He was used to her bluntness, but this time was different. She wasn’t just being curt, she was drawing a hard line. She had never been like this before.
Buying that guy a gift? Weren’t you going to run off with the money anyway?
‘Hermia, how about marrying me again a year from now? A scoundrel and a villainess — not a bad match, right? Don’t you want to know how freeing it is to live a life that defies the world’s expectations?’
But in the end, he hadn’t been able to say any of that.
As soon as he realized Hermia loved Walter, the words wouldn’t come out.
Now, all that remained after the earlier chaos, like a dream from the night before, was emptiness. Even the noise from across the street sounded faint and far away.
Then Gerald realized something — he couldn’t hear anything but his own laughter.
“…Ha… haha. The Princess and the Prince both got dumped, huh.”
His Majesty would be really disappointed. He even set the whole stage for me.
Getting rejected before even confessing. All he could do was let out a hollow laugh.
It was probably time to stop chasing after the Duchess, who had long since vanished from sight.
He just couldn’t keep up anymore.
You, who pickpocket a thief’s purse… You, who’d rob a prince’s purse just to buy that guy a gift… I really can’t follow you anymore.
“I feel like dying of humiliation, but… somehow, it’s also a relief.”
Gerald’s feet, which had been frozen in place, finally started to move again.
As he walked toward the sunlight, his steps gradually gained strength.
“I wonder what Walter’s doing right now. Maybe I’ll go take a look.”
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‘That bastard. It wasn’t Walter, it was me?’
Hermia bit her lip hard as she walked with heavy steps.
She had sensed it for a while, but she’d forced herself to ignore it. Today, the truth finally became undeniable.
She should’ve suspected something when he made a move at the bookstore. Or at least when he came to the Count’s house, talking nonsense about “playing with fire.”
He was notorious for being a lightweight, so she thought he was just toying with her for fun. And at the ball, she really believed he thought she liked Walter.
The moment she realized all those women he met were just for show, she suddenly felt ridiculous.
“You dared go after your friend’s wife? You bastard.”
Even baring herself to him without hesitation, thinking back now, it felt like he’d insulted her. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got.
Hermia suddenly stopped in her tracks, turned toward an alley, and raised her arm.
“You think that was impressive? Get real! You lost! My husband won, you hear me!”
She fumed for a while, then noticed belatedly that people were staring.
A refined lady, standing in the middle of the street, shouting obscenities and waving her arm around? Passersby flinched and slowly backed away.
“Maybe… she’s a noblewoman who’s gone mad.”
“Don’t make eye contact.”
A couple walking by, arm in arm, whispered just loud enough for her to hear.
“I’m not crazy! Keep walking!”
Hermia swung her heavy coin pouch threateningly, scaring them off.
“My lady!”
Just then, Emily spotted her and shouted, running over. Hermia quickly regained her composure and tried to sound calm.
“Emily! Sorry, I got distracted for a bit.”
“Oh thank the heavens! I thought my heart was going to stop! You’re not hurt, are you?”
“I’m fine. I just went for a little walk.”
Emily frowned, that was more than just a walk. Hermia’s hair was messy, and her dress was wrinkled.
“Everyone was so worried. I had a hard time stopping the lieutenant from going out to look for you.”
“Oh right! I can ask the lieutenant about the gift!”
Hermia’s face lit up as she shook the pouch. It looked much fuller than when she left the hotel. Emily blinked in confusion.
“My lady… is that money?”
“This? It’s nothing. I earned it just now.”
She vanished out of nowhere, then suddenly reappeared. Now she’s claiming she earned money?
Emily had a mountain of questions, but something told her that asking would only give her a headache.
Judging by what she’d seen at school and the inn, the lady’s heart was clearly still far from healed.
