Chapter 251

Chapter 251

When Deatrice asked him about it, once the ceremony was over and they were alone in the room, Lucius leaned back into the sofa, running a hand through his hair, looking tired as he answered.

“I handed over the Princess’s son.”

“The Princess’s son?”

Deatrice couldn’t understand which princess he was talking about or why Lucius would say he had “handed him over.” Lucius briefly added an unhelpfully short explanation to her confusion.

“Princess Effie’s son. She secretly had a child before she died. No one’s sure who the father is, but the Emperor’s name has been mentioned.”

The sheer magnitude of the secret left Deatrice standing in shock, staring at Lucius. Princess Effie, who had died unmarried, had a child? And there were rumors that the Emperor had been her lover?

Even the mere existence of such rumors was catastrophic for the imperial family’s reputation. As she stood there, dumbfounded, her gaze slowly shifted back to Lucius.

“Why were you in possession of the Princess’s son?”

If he had “handed him over,” that meant he’d had the child in his care without any order from the Emperor.

Lucius, who had been answering so easily until now, suddenly evaded the question. Deatrice’s hands trembled as she clasped them together, trying to stay calm. But the memories that flooded her mind made the answer clear, even without his response.

“Did you do it to blackmail the Emperor? Was that your plan to protect our marriage from Frederick? Is that the choice you made?”

At her question, Lucius remained silent, his expression ambiguous.

He seemed to be weighing which answer would be better, like someone calculating a business decision. But then, he gave up, abandoning that line of thought altogether.

“Let’s go. It’s all in the past now, anyway.”

He stood up, kissed her forehead, and made his way toward the door.

“In the end, you and I are still together, and the Emperor can’t do anything about it, can he?”

He muttered that with something resembling a smile, but Deatrice could only let out a low sigh as she gazed at his pale face. It was a sigh that made her realize he was the only one who thought that being together meant anything.

  *

The next few days passed peacefully.

Or, at least, it appeared that way on the surface. But Lucius could feel it—the cracks in Deatrice’s patience were beginning to show.

The forced meals. The way she seemed to be barely holding on.

Whenever he glanced into the drawing room or the bedroom, more often than not, she wasn’t looking inside but outside. It was as if this place was no longer her home. As if what she wanted wasn’t here, but somewhere beyond.

So when Deatrice finally told him she couldn’t take it any longer, Lucius wasn’t surprised at all.

“I think it’s enough now,” she said.

Lucius stepped into the room and turned around as if asking what she meant. The attendants who had been standing by nearby quietly left at Deatrice’s signal.

“What’s this about, sending even the servants away?”

Lucius forced a smile, trying to make a joke, but Deatrice wasn’t having it. She took a deep breath, her expression serious.

“Let’s stop this,” she declared.

Silence fell heavily between them. Lucius stared at her for a moment before he casually sank onto the sofa as if none of it mattered.

“What are you talking about?”

“This… act we’re putting on. Let’s stop pretending.”

“Pretending?” He loosened his cravat slowly, glancing up at her, his expression unbothered.

But Deatrice saw the slight tremble in his fingers. She knew how desperately he had clung to this last shred of hope, trying to hold on. That was precisely why she needed to leave. He had told her he was ‘fine’ all this time because he was trapped in this small world that was her.

Her face pale, she pleaded.

“Yes, I know how hard you’ve tried. But what’s the point of all that? We can’t live our whole lives like this, pretending.”

“I don’t know what you think we’re pretending about—”

“Lucius.” She called his name earnestly, cutting him off as he tried to feign ignorance again.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried. She had tried endlessly. She had tried to live with him, to endure as he’d asked, to endure because she loved him. But seeing his face had become unbearable. It suffocated her to be trapped here, tied down like a puppet, with no say in anything that happened.

Lucius walked through life as if nothing had ever gone wrong, on a path smoothed over with no cracks. And Deatrice had stumbled time and again just to keep up with him.

I can’t live like this forever.

She could only imagine that this long, tense ordeal had been just as exhausting for him, but Lucius responded calmly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but even if we had to live like this forever, I could do it.”

He smiled faintly as he spoke. In that moment, Deatrice recognized an unshakable resolve in him, something no one could break. She closed her eyes tightly and started pacing aimlessly around the room.

“This will only poison you too. It’s all meaningless. You’re clinging to something out of stubbornness because you can’t let go.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Let me go.”