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Chapter 228
The color drained from Richard’s face in an instant.
Even Iona hadn’t anticipated this.
Richard was a man who rarely revealed his true emotions.
He had perfected the art of concealment so well that Iona had failed to realize his true feelings until the moment of her death.
But now, faced with the exposure of a secret he had intended to keep for life, even he couldn’t remain unshaken.
The expression that had once been as rigid as a wax figure slowly began to crack.
Though his gaze remained fixed on her, he could no longer mask the tremor in his eyes.
Seizing the opportunity, Iona pressed him further.
“So that’s why you never told me, isn’t it? Because it was something you could never admit?”
Seconds stretched into eternity.
Richard still hadn’t responded, but at this point, any excuse would be meaningless.
Yet, rather than concede defeat, he simply readjusted the mask that had slipped from his face.
Furrowing his brows as if genuinely confused, he said,
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
His voice sounded natural—too natural. But the way he spoke reeked of an attempt to smooth things over.
Iona wasn’t particularly disappointed that he had chosen to deceive her once again.
She had never expected honesty from him in the first place. Besides, she had already found her answer in his reaction.
When had he ever spoken the truth? If anything, his lies were the most solid proof she could have asked for.
Deciding to feign ignorance, Richard countered with a question of his own.
“I cared for you like family, even called you noona on occasion. Is that really such an issue?”
“Like family.”
Iona repeated his words under her breath, letting them roll on her tongue.
Family. Like family…
Princess Teresa was Richard’s aunt.
If Iona was truly Teresa’s daughter, then they weren’t just like family—they were cousins.
In the past, noble bloodlines had been preserved through intermarriage, but in this era, such unions were taboo due to the risks of hereditary diseases.
If Richard had known her identity all along and deliberately kept it hidden, it made perfect sense.
For all his arrogance, even he wouldn’t want his feelings to be a source of disgrace.
‘Exposing the filth within the imperial family wouldn’t have been a wise move either.’
Duke Ernst had claimed that Princess Teresa bore Hayden’s child.
Given that Hayden had entered the empress’s household after Teresa’s death, it was likely their relationship had been orchestrated from the start.
If the empress had ruined Teresa’s life by design, then the imperial family was, in a sense, Iona’s mother’s enemy.
Iona despised her father, Hayden, so siding with her mother in this situation felt… strangely natural.
‘All this time, I thought he was just my husband’s enemy… but he was mine as well.’
Suppressing a bitter chuckle, Iona examined Richard’s face closely.
She had once thought he had inherited only the finest features of both the emperor and the empress.
Yet in this moment, his flawless face stirred an inexplicable sense of distaste within her.
Her gaze lingered on his delicate eyes, so strikingly similar to those of the empress.
Fixing her stare on him, she spoke in an uncharacteristically emotional tone.
“I used to think the same way.”
“……”
“But family isn’t always a warm presence. Sometimes, blood ties are crueler than any stranger could ever be.”
Her voice carried a quiet bitterness as she recalled the image of her mother burning alive in the flames.
She didn’t know for certain if the empress had orchestrated the fire, but she was undoubtedly the prime suspect.
Otherwise, how else could one explain the scars hidden beneath her veil?
Iona’s voice took on an edge of steel.
“My mother—”
“Enough.”
Richard’s expression darkened, his face hardening like stone.
Did he truly believe that this conversation should never be dragged into the light?
This time, he didn’t attempt to justify himself; instead, he tried to silence her with authority.
“I may not know what nonsense you’re spewing, but I do know that you are overstepping your bounds. Are you daring to belittle my favor?”
One of the benefits of power was the ability to silence others by force.
It didn’t matter who was morally right.
Realizing she wouldn’t be able to extract anything more useful from him, Iona decided to hold her tongue.
But then, Richard suddenly reached out, tilting her chin upward.
He studied her eyes, as if searching for something hidden within them.
And then—deliberately—he leaned in.
Perhaps it was the sheer unexpectedness of the act.
Perhaps it was because of who it was.
Rather than retreat, Iona instinctively shoved against his chest.
But he was holding himself so tensely that she was the one who staggered backward.
She fell into her chair, gasping for breath, looking up at him in stunned disbelief.
Had he brandished a sword at her instead, Iona might have been less taken aback.
“This… What exactly are you doing…?”
Her voice trembled with disbelief.
She was a married woman.
That meant no other man—no matter who he was—should look at her with such desire.
And yet, Richard had just given them one more reason why they could never be.
Unbothered by her rejection, Richard grabbed her wrist effortlessly.
Then, bracing himself against the table, he blocked her path.
His grip was strong enough to leave a dull ache where his fingers pressed against her skin.
His eyes gleamed dangerously as he stared her down.
With a sharp, almost demanding tone, he asked,
“I’ve never treated you this way before. So tell me, does it really matter so much that I desire you? What exactly do you intend to do now that you know?”
He was close enough that she could see her own expression reflected in his eyes.
Iona thought, for a fleeting moment, that he might try to kiss her again.
But the distance between them did not close.
As if his actions had been nothing more than a calculated attempt to intimidate her.
Iona deliberated on how she could escape this situation without committing the grave crime of harming a member of the imperial family—
Only to realize she no longer had to.
After glaring at her in silence for what felt like an eternity, Richard loosened his hold and straightened.
His gaze, now laced with emotions too complex to name, bore down on her as he murmured,
“Do not provoke me.”
“……”
“No matter what I feel for you, I never intended to let it show. That’s why your questions were meaningless.”
His gaze drifted downward, settling on her wrist—
Where his grip had left behind a vivid red mark against her pale skin.
With surprising gentleness, he brushed his fingers over it.
“I never wanted to lose you.”
“……”
“I did everything I could to preserve what we had. I tried—so hard—to suppress this… to cast it away as something I should never feel.”
“……”
“But in the end, I failed. And now, you know.”
His voice cracked on the last word.
As if punishing himself for his weakness, he bit down on his lower lip.
It was an oddly innocent gesture—almost heartbreakingly so.
Iona had assumed that his emotions were nothing more than a volatile mixture of obsession and possessiveness.
But seeing him like this left her unsettled.
He wasn’t supposed to act like he truly meant it.
He had no right to.
The more he tried to claim he loved her, the more it only served to prove how pitiful his so-called love truly was.
Because he had already abandoned her once before.
“…Fine. You’re right, and I was wrong.”
His voice was laced with bitter resignation.
“I fought so hard, unwilling to admit defeat, but in the end… you’ve brought me to my knees.”
“……”
“I love you, Iona.”
That was precisely why—
He had no right to look at her like that, to speak to her in that voice, to confess his love with that expression.
-- End Of The Chapter --
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