Chapter 237

Richard asked in a teasing tone, like a mischievous uncle playing with a clueless child.

It was the kind of question someone might ask while jokingly proposing marriage to an innocent kid unfamiliar with the ways of the world.

The problem was, both of them were far too old to be playing such family games.

More importantly, only Richard knew that the two of them were actually cousins.

With a look of horror, Iona responded as though afraid someone might overhear.

“Please don’t joke about something so frightening.”

“Why do you think it’s a joke?”

“Because by every measure, I’m not someone who could possibly match Your Highness. If Her Majesty the Empress finds out, she’d surely have you punished.”

“A noble lady of House Modrov has a fair chance, doesn’t she?”

“But I’m just a commoner by birth—an adopted daughter.”

The smile lingering on Richard’s lips deepened.

He lowered his head and let out a quiet chuckle before admitting frankly,

“You’re right. We’re not meant to be.”

Perhaps there was something oddly weighted about his tone, because a flicker of confusion crossed Iona’s face.

Studying his expression, she asked cautiously,

“Do you not want to get married?”

“I know I have to. It’s just… a bother, that’s all.”

Richard replied indifferently, then turned and made his way toward the door.

Startled, Iona hurried after him and opened it for him.

Instead of stepping out immediately, Richard gazed down the corridor and asked,

“If I just send that lady back, Her Majesty won’t let it slide, will she?”

“Most likely not.”

“In that case, I suppose I’d better at least pretend to make an effort.”

“It’ll be less trouble if you make a reasonable compromise.”

Iona offered the advice sincerely.

It seemed she genuinely felt a bit sorry for her superior, who was being relentlessly hounded by his mother over marriage.

It was unlike her to speak up, which made her words all the more telling.

Richard quietly regarded her for a moment.

Then he asked out of the blue,

“And you?”

“…Pardon?”

“I’m asking if you’ve received any marriage proposals.”

With a slightly puzzled look, as if wondering why he’d ask such a thing, Iona simply replied,

“No, I haven’t.”

Richard’s lips curled subtly at her response.

Though Iona acted as if he were being stubborn about his own situation, the truth was that marriage was no longer a distant matter for her either.

In fact, considering her age, one might even say she was falling behind her peers.

So then why had Hayden been so dismissive of her social debut?

There was no real mystery there.

‘Must be he just doesn’t want to waste a dowry.’

From a count’s perspective, it made more sense for Iona to remain under the Modrov name.

The moment she married into another family, all the investment in raising her would inevitably be shared with outsiders.

There was no way Hayden would welcome that.

Richard suspected that not only had Hayden refused to support her marriage, he may even have actively interfered.

‘In the end, I’m the only one left who can find her a proper husband.’

He had long expected that he would be the one to oversee Iona’s future marriage.

And he was confident he’d do a fine job of it.

After all, he wouldn’t push ahead recklessly like the Empress, ignoring the feelings of those involved.

Not that Iona would ever dare defy his wishes anyway.

With a rare softness, Richard asked,

“Do you have any preferences? Like the kind of man you think would make a good husband?”

“Well… I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Do you not want to start a family?”

“Marriage isn’t about building a family. It’s about seeking stability.”

“Then I take it you don’t want stability?”

“It’s more that I’m not confident I could live closely with another person. I sometimes wonder what’s the point of promising to spend your whole life with someone else.”

Perhaps she was thinking of the Count and Countess of Modrov.

As she spoke with a hint of cynicism, Iona realized she might have exposed too much of her true feelings and fell silent.

A moment later, she gathered herself and stated plainly,

“I’m content with how things are now.”

Richard stared at her silently, then slowly lifted the corners of his mouth in a faint smile.

“You’re right,” he said. “That’s not something others should force on you.”

With those words, he gave her shoulder a reassuring pat.

Then he stepped outside and strode down the corridor.

The familiar sound of footsteps followed shortly behind.

With his hands clasped behind his back, Richard suddenly spoke.

“You said I’d be better off compromising a little, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“Then who do you think I should marry—if I want to avoid a hassle later on?”

It was a sudden question, but Iona managed to steady herself quickly.

After a brief moment of thought, Iona finally answered.

“Lady Florence, whom we met last week, seems the most suitable candidate. She’s from a noble lineage with a long and respected history, and I’ve heard she has a good reputation within high society. Politically, her connections are also quite clean.”

Listening to her explanation, Richard tried to recall the woman’s face—already a blur in his memory.

It wasn’t a particularly earnest attempt.

He never really made a point of remembering the faces of the women who sat before him.

Still, the fact that nothing about her had stood out as unpleasant supported Iona’s claim that the lady had a solid reputation.

“Then I suppose she’ll do.”

Richard’s matter-of-fact conclusion made Iona raise her eyes in surprise.

She hadn’t expected him to accept her suggestion so readily.

“Are you sure about that?”

“And why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just… the decision seems a bit hasty.”

“It’s not like I’m marrying for love. What does it matter who it is?”

He shrugged, as if it truly made no difference.

By then, they had returned to the room they’d left earlier.

As Richard stood there wondering how to get rid of the lady inside as quickly as possible, he suddenly turned and looked at Iona.

A faint, curved smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Then, in a gentle voice that sounded almost like a blessing, he uttered a biting remark.

“Iona, your marriage will probably be just as meaningless as mine.”

“I have no intention of getting married, though.”

“In that case, I guess I’m right.”

Instead of arguing back, Iona simply bowed in silence.

Still wearing a soft smile, Richard stepped back into the tedious meeting room.

One day, he would have to find a suitable man to stand by Iona’s side—but that day wasn’t today.

And even if it did happen, it wouldn’t change a thing between them.

Marriage wasn’t something that held any meaning for people like Richard and Iona.

They already had all the shape and substance of a bond they needed.

Together, they formed a complete world. Everyone else could be replaced by someone—or something—else, and it wouldn’t matter.

Just as he relied on her, Richard believed, without a sliver of doubt, that she relied on him too.

****

In the end, Richard did as Iona had suggested and became engaged to Florence.

However, contrary to Iona’s optimistic claims, they ended up dealing with one nuisance after another.

The trouble stemmed from the fact that Lady Florence’s favorable reputation wasn’t due to a kind heart—but rather her aptitude as a shrewd political player.

“Dame Iona, let’s speak frankly. Why does His Highness keep using you to relay his refusals to meet me?”

Lying on the sofa, half-asleep, Richard cracked his eyes open at the sound of raised voices drifting in from outside the window.

Running a hand through his tousled hair, he sat up and spotted that the window was slightly ajar.

Piecing things together from what he’d heard, Richard let out a dry laugh.

Today, too, he had turned down Florence’s visit under the excuse of being “out for the day.”

And as always, it was Iona—honest to a fault—who had to deal with the aftermath.

She stood among the fuming ladies, parroting the same unconvincing excuse that Richard had given her.

“I do apologize. His Highness is currently out—”

“Which, you see, sounds to us rather like a declaration of war.”

-- End Of The Chapter --

 

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