Chapter 9
Valter had assumed he would be summoned at least once before any official announcement was made.
Not by Charlize—he knew better than that. But by the Emperor, or the Crown Prince. Perhaps even both.
So, when he made an unannounced visit, he believed they would still let him in without too much trouble. He chose not to gamble too far by approaching the Emperor directly, and instead went to see Oscar, the Crown Prince.
As expected, it hadn’t taken long for permission to be granted—right after a minor standoff with the palace guards. The attendant who escorted Valter to the Crown Prince’s office wore an expression that clearly showed he wasn’t thrilled about it.
“Your Highness, Young Lord Bianchi has arrived.”
A cold voice responded from within. “Let him in.”
The tone alone would’ve made any ordinary noble recoil—but Valter didn’t flinch. He was used to Oscar’s indifference.
“I greet Your Highness the Crown Prince,” Valter said, bowing deeply.
Oscar didn’t reply. He continued scribbling something on a document, the scratching of his pen filling the otherwise silent room. The only one who looked nervous was the royal attendant.
“Leave us.”
It wasn’t directed at Valter.
Without even glancing up, Oscar waved the servant away. The attendant and the guards silently exited the office, the door shutting behind them with a whisper.
The only sound that remained was the pen moving across paper.
Valter still hadn’t raised his head.
“You went to see the princess, didn’t you?”
“…So, Your Highness intercepted my letter after all.”
It had actually been the Emperor’s doing—but Oscar didn’t bother to correct him. He agreed with the decision.
“Why did you go to her? I thought your ‘friendship’ with Her Highness ended that day.”
Charlize hadn’t been the only witness to the incident with the Count’s daughter. Rumors had spread quickly. It was no surprise they had reached both the Emperor and the Crown Prince.
“Nothing happened between me and Lady Estelle.”
“Color me shocked that the young Lord Bianchi is kind enough to worry about how he looks in the eyes of a lady. That’s… unexpected.”
Oscar put down his pen, looking up at last.
“You’re not that kind of man.”
Valter said nothing.
It hadn’t been a kiss, but he had, undeniably, acted close with another woman. Worse, he had orchestrated the moment—intentionally. And from the look in Oscar’s eyes, he knew.
“I’m not accusing you of trying to hurt the princess out of disloyalty,” Oscar added. “That would be a waste of time. It’s all in the past now, isn’t it?”
His voice dripped with mockery. Valter clenched his jaw.
Oscar stared down at him.
“What I want to know is this: why stir up something that’s already finished? You got what you wanted, didn’t you? The princess no longer wishes to see you.”
“I only meant to give Her Highness time to think.”
Valter had wanted to explain. If she had come to him, he would have told her everything had been a misunderstanding. That was why he went to see her now—because he still wanted to say those words.
But Oscar pointed out the obvious.
“You mean, you gave her time to misunderstand. You let her suffer alone while her heart bled, all so she could sit with that pain and try to make sense of it.”
Valter wanted to protest—that it wasn’t like that. He had been afraid. Seeing her cry… he hadn’t expected it. He never thought Charlize would cry like that. It had felt like the end, so he hadn’t dared face her.
“You hated her, didn’t you?”
“I did not!”
The denial burst out before he could stop it, surprising both of them.
Valter stared at Oscar, stunned by his own voice. Even so, the words kept coming—like they were being spoken for the first time even to himself.
“I… I just couldn’t believe that Her Highness truly cared for me.”
He hadn’t planned to say it aloud, but now that he had, his own face reflected his shock. Was that what I really felt all along? he wondered.
Oscar observed him coolly and sighed inwardly. He recalled something the Empress had once said:
“Oh, Oscar. The young lord truly does love Charlize. That’s the truth, you know.”
“Your Majesty, the young lord is cold to her every time they’re alone. Her maids have observed it. They’ve told me.”
“He’s just not honest with himself. Valter… that boy is jealous of her. That’s all.”
The Empress had never explained why Valter was jealous of Charlize.
“That’s why! That’s all it was!” Valter burst out. “I never once hated Her Highness the Princess, I—”
As the heat of emotion cooled, a heavy wave of shame crashed over him. He was finally forced to face what he had done. Oscar was staring at him with cold, cutting eyes.
“So, you’re telling me my sister had to suffer for thirteen years because you couldn’t even recognize your own pathetic feelings?”
Hearing his entire emotional mess summed up in a single sentence made Valter feel small—petty, weak, and cruel. His face flushed red with humiliation. Oscar looked at him like he was beyond belief.
“Leave.”
“Your Highness! Please, I was foolish. At least… please allow me to see Her Highness again!”
Valter made the mistake of raising his head without permission, but Oscar didn’t bother pointing it out.
“For what? Do you plan to confess your love now, of all times? No—you won’t. Yours is the most cowardly kind of love I’ve ever seen.”
Cowardly.
He had told himself the same thing, but hearing it aloud—being called out so directly—made it feel even more disgraceful. And yet, he couldn’t back down now. This might be his last chance.
“…I will confess.”
Oscar’s expression twisted at the words that came from Valter’s mouth, his voice sharp and unshaken. The Crown Prince looked angrier than he had in a long time.
“Do you expect me to applaud you for that?” he snapped. “When she loved you with everything she had, you gave her nothing but pain. And now that she’s finally set to marry someone else, now you show up with a confession?”
Bang!
His fist slammed down on the desk, leaving a dent. Oscar rose from his seat and stepped toward Valter. Even when Oscar grabbed him by the collar, Valter didn’t resist. He knew he didn’t have the right.
“Just say it outright—you want to ruin her life, you bastard!”
Oscar wanted to strangle him. Ever since he caught Valter’s cold gaze toward Charlize when the Emperor wasn’t looking, he had wanted to grab him like this.
He wanted to lock him in the dungeon until the wedding was over. But if Charlize found out, she’d worry. And Oscar couldn’t stand the thought of her being troubled—especially not because of this man.
Still… there are other ways.
“Guards!”
Oscar’s voice cut through the air like a blade, and the doors burst open as soldiers poured into the room.
Valter didn’t flinch. He had expected anger. What shook him now wasn’t the threat in Oscar’s voice—but the raw truth of his own exposed heart, laid bare and vulnerable for all to see.
He had known he cared for Charlize—but he hadn’t realized just how deeply. He thought it was only possessiveness. He thought he just didn’t want to lose her.
“Arrest the young lord. Charge him with insulting the royal family!”
“Your Highness…”
Valter’s voice was low, calm, almost eerily composed. He didn’t even look surprised. Oscar sneered.
“It’s a serious crime… but I’ll be generous this time. House arrest. You’ll remain confined to your estate until the wedding is over.”
“You can’t do that!”
Valter’s eyes widened. He’d figured out what Oscar was doing, and the desperation in his voice slipped through like a crack in a dam. Oscar laughed bitterly.
“You should thank me. I’m barely holding back the urge to throw you into the dungeon. Be smart—stay at home. …We’ll see each other again soon, Lord Bianchi. Take him away!”
At Oscar’s command, the guards approached. Valter looked around wildly, from their faces to Oscar’s.
“Just once! Let me see Her Highness, just once!”
“You’re too late.”
Oscar’s voice was sharp, tired, and laced with disgust. As the guards grabbed Valter, he made no move to resist. He could have—he was a sword master, after all. But if he did… that would be true treason.
“Your Highness!”
Valter’s voice echoed down the corridor, but Oscar only scoffed.
Now, of all times, now he wants to confess? To speak of feelings? All he’s doing is protecting his own pride to the bitter end.
Pathetic.
Seeing Valter panic just to spare himself heartbreak only confirmed what Oscar already knew: the Emperor had made the right call in pushing forward with the marriage to the Archmage.
“…I’ll need to send a letter to the Duke and Duchess of Bianchi.”
If they so much as tried to reach Charlize and plead on Valter’s behalf, they’d need to be warned. If they interfered, Valter’s sentence wouldn’t just be house arrest—it would be extended.
Oscar summoned a scribe and had him bring writing materials. He didn’t even bother writing the letter himself.
It was a letter to the Bianchi’s. There was no need to waste ink in his own hand.
