Chapter 240

“Yes, that was all I ever needed.”

At this moment, Richard stood not before the woman he longed for, but face to face with his own blue eyes.

Suppressing a bitter laugh, Richard slowly dropped his gaze.

Then, as if to hide the emptiness in his palm, he gradually closed his hand into a fist.

The only reason he had been able to suppress his greed all this time was because he believed—no, he was certain—that Iona would stay by his side forever.

But look at him now.

He hadn’t been able to protect anything, abandoned by everyone, left completely alone.

Teresa had left him, unable to bear the weight of her life.

And her daughter—Iona—had run away from him because she couldn’t bear him.

If so, had the problem always been him from the beginning?

Had he thrown away all those years chasing something he was never meant to have?

Unfortunately, no other chances remained for him now.

Even if he had taken the wrong path, the only thing left to do was to keep walking forward.

People—and love—were not things that could be so easily changed.

Because Richard had no intention of letting Iona go, the only option left was to reshape her into someone he could keep.

And, at the very least, that was simpler than bringing the dead back to life.

With weary eyes, Richard tilted his head back and stared into the empty air above.

Then, out of nowhere, he muttered:

“…Perhaps I really do need to kill him.”

At this point, even if he managed to separate the two and take Iona for himself, all he would gain was public scandal.

The only legitimate way to dissolve Iona’s marriage now… was her husband’s death.

And the sooner it happened, the better.

If she ended up getting pregnant in a supposedly loving marriage, things would only get more complicated.

It would be less traumatic for her to part ways while he was just a husband, rather than the father of her child.

“And after that…”

Just as he began to imagine Iona returning to him in mourning clothes, Richard suddenly frowned.

He couldn’t clearly picture what kind of future he would build with her afterward.

Would she grow suspicious of him over her husband’s sudden death?

Would she come to despise him, hate him so thoroughly that she would forever refuse him?

He didn’t know.

Even though she had already rejected him once, the memory of it still felt strangely dreamlike to Richard.

To him, Iona had always been someone who never said no.

She may have never smiled brightly at him, but she had never voiced resentment either.

This was the first time.

The first time she’d glared at him with such loathing in her eyes.

“And even that… was beautiful.”

A soft scoff escaped his lips.

Turning around, Richard raised his voice and called out:

“Is anyone there?”

Responding to his call, a servant opened the door and stepped inside.

He bowed deeply to Richard and said:

“Awaiting your command, my lord.”

“I’ll be returning to the capital. Make sure we’re ready to depart before dawn.”

The sudden order clearly surprised the servant, but he didn’t question it outwardly.

He simply asked, in a courteous tone:

“What should we do with the hostage?”

At that, Richard clasped his hands behind his back and fell silent.

Originally, he had planned to execute the hostage immediately upon his coronation and bury the body somewhere no one would ever find it.

The whole point had been to remove any potential threat to the succession.

He had also intended to distract the Archduke by forcing him into a desperate search for his lost son, pulling his attention away from the political games in the capital.

“The search efforts are intensifying, my lord. I thought it might be time to either relocate him or… take care of it,” the servant added, clearly uncomfortable.

The only reason Richard had kept the hostage alive—when he could’ve easily killed him—was in case the boy became a useful bargaining chip someday.

That’s why the attendant now seemed to believe it was finally the right time to dispose of the Archduke’s son.

After all, months had passed since the boy’s disappearance, and the Archduke had yet to show any signs of suspicion.

Surely by now, even if they killed the hostage, no real consequences would follow.

But Richard had a slightly different thought.

“…Let’s leave him for now.”

“But, Your Highness—”

“I said leave him be.”

As Richard’s voice sank lower, the attendant quickly bowed his head and held his tongue.

Excusing himself with haste, the servant fled the room.

Watching him go, Richard was reminded of something Iona had said to him.

“I’ve figured out why you called me your noona.”

He had pretended not to understand, smoothing the situation over with feigned ignorance—but in truth, her words had deeply unsettled him.

In that moment, she had looked as though she knew everything.

His hidden past.

The fact that they were, indeed, related by blood.

“At least no one else in the palace knows the truth. And if someone does… there’s no reason for them to suddenly start talking now.”

But what if Teresa had reached out to the Archduke through other means?

What if he had learned of his niece’s existence and recognized Iona at a glance?

What if it was through the Archduke that she had come to know the truth?

“If that’s the case… I’ll have to be the one to propose a deal first.”

If the situation had truly unfolded that way, then Richard needed to act fast—to silence the Archduke before word could spread.

It had been over twenty years since the secret child of a royal princess had been born.

He could always claim the Archduke was confused, his mind dulled with age, mistaking memory for fact.

Fortunately, Richard had the perfect tool to secure the Archduke’s silence.

No parent, after all, would value a nephew more than their own son.

***

When Leroy returned to the bedroom late at night after his bath, he found Iona sitting upright and alone at the table, as though waiting for him.

Though he didn’t show it outwardly, Leroy was quietly startled by the sight.

The room was dark save for a single candle flickering atop the table, casting shadows across the walls.

It made Iona’s pale face look like it was floating in the air.

Trying to calm his thudding heart, Leroy approached her and asked:

“…Have you taken an interest in voodoo, perhaps?”

“What do you mean by that?” Iona blinked, genuinely puzzled.

A bit embarrassed, Leroy chuckled and replied:

“That came out wrong.”

“Ah… I suppose the atmosphere is a bit spooky,” she said, nodding in belated understanding.

It seemed she had also realized how she must’ve looked from where he stood.

“I was trying to create a mood… There’s something I want to discuss seriously. But it seems I overdid it.”

With that, Iona struck a match and lit the second candle on the table.

The room grew slightly brighter, but the ambiance still felt like a fortune-teller’s parlor run by some foreign mystic.

Still, Leroy didn’t point it out.

Rather than the odd setting, he was more interested in what she wanted to say.

“What’s this serious thing you wanted to talk about?”

To that, Iona uncharacteristically hesitated, her lips parting but no words coming out at first.

A faint flicker of unease passed through Leroy’s gaze.

He couldn’t help but recall the uninvited guest from the evening before—Iona’s former lord.

He had no idea what the two of them had talked about when they were alone.

After that long, private conversation, the crown prince had returned to the gathering with a surprisingly composed demeanor, engaging in casual conversation before making a polite excuse and leaving.

That was the end of it.

Leroy hadn’t asked Iona what had happened between them.

He didn’t want it to seem like he doubted her.

And Iona, rather than leave him anxious, seemed determined once again to share what she had experienced.

Leroy looked at her with the gentle eyes of someone grateful to have a partner who never kept secrets.

But what he forgot—what he always seemed to forget—was that this woman also had a knack for shocking him.

“I think… I may be of royal blood.”

-- End Of The Chapter --

 

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