This Marriage Will Surely Succeed Chapter 269

Chapter 269

“Handing it down won’t be a problem. As long as you’re ready.”

“Does that ‘readiness’ include clearing out other bloodlines as well?”

Richard asked softly.

He even knew exactly how to push the Empress into losing her composure.

With a weary gaze fixed on the black veil, Richard spoke a name that was far too familiar.

“Just as you killed Aunt Teresa… now you intend to snuff out her child’s breath as well?”

The Empress ground her teeth violently.

Suppressing the urge to scream, she bit back her response like she was swallowing glass.

“I regret not finishing it sooner. If I had known you’d become this irrational, I would never have delayed my decision.”

“Thanks to that hesitation, I now have a chance of my own. In that regard, perhaps I should actually thank you, Mother.”

“Richard. Don’t forget—that child is also your shame.”

‘We’re in the same boat.’

The Empress warned in a heavy, severe voice.

A bitter smile curled at Richard’s lips.

Because he, too, was sick to death of that truth.

Even without dragging up what happened more than twenty years ago, Iona alone already embodied his greatest flaw.

Much like how Teresa was for the Empress.

“If you’re still carrying around some misplaced guilt for Teresa, drop it. Unless you plan to let old grudges drag the grand cause to ruin.”

Her warning sounded less like scolding him, and more like she was reminding herself.

Until she heard that Teresa’s child was alive, the Empress would often summon her son and reminisce about the past with Teresa.

She would cut away the discomfort and only lay out the palatable memories, recreating their old tea times on a silver platter.

Even the refreshments she served were the same kinds as back then—though, truth be told, the Empress never particularly liked the fig biscuits Teresa often baked for her.

“If we’re truly on the same boat, then at least be honest with me.”

“……”

“Did Aunt Teresa truly leave behind no final words for us?”

Despite discovering circumstances suggesting that Teresa left a letter anticipating her death before the fire, Richard could never fully shake off the suspicion that the culprit might have been the Empress.

Yes, part of him simply couldn’t accept the claim that Teresa had taken her own life, but the Empress’s suspicious behavior only fueled that doubt.

To this day, she hadn’t spoken a single word about what had actually transpired in Teresa’s palace on the night of the accident.

And now, once again, silence was the answer she chose.

Unable to contain his frustration, Richard finally raised his voice.

“Even when you ran in to ‘save’ Aunt Teresa… was that nothing but an act? Just a performance to avoid suspicion?”

In her son’s eyes, the Empress read raw contempt.

She had always considered herself and her son to be near accomplices, bound by a shared crime. But even she could not bring herself to voice such words aloud.

It might be different if she were the pure victim, but a perpetrator had no right to accuse a bystander.

Her voice cracked as she whispered.

“You think I killed Teresa.”

“Then… didn’t you?”

Richard shot back coldly.

He didn’t look like a son desperate to believe in his mother’s innocence.

The Empress let out a short, bitter laugh.

“No, you’re right.”

“……”

“And I intend to do the same with that bloodline as well. If you think you can stop me, then by all means—try.”

Leave.

The Empress declared icily.

Since dialogue had failed to secure her control, it was now time for force.

As long as Richard held the right of succession, the ultimate victor would inevitably be him. But the pieces the Empress had set into place until now were not entirely insignificant either.

That girl—still not even officially recognized as part of the imperial family—could easily be disposed of long before Richard ascended the throne.

Such official procedures would, of course, take time.

After glaring at the Empress’ back for a long while, Richard stormed out of the chamber with fierce strides.

The door slammed shut behind him, reverberating through the hall.

The Empress silently approached the window and looked outside.

Perhaps it was the sudden flood of bright light, but her eyes blurred for a moment.

And within that haze of dispersing brilliance, a familiar face appeared.

Standing amidst a bed of flowers in full bloom, Teresa smiled brightly and waved her hand at the Empress.

The figure who had often appeared in nightmares had now, at last, manifested in reality.

Fixing her gaze on the apparition, the Empress muttered as if spitting the words out.

“…I must truly have gone mad.”

Of course, she hadn’t yet sunk so far as to believe that vision was real.

After all, if it were truly Teresa, there was no way she would smile so purely at her like that.

“Did you think I would never know… why your child looks at me with such guilt-ridden eyes every single time?”

Recalling the searing heat of that day, the damp, trembling voice that clashed against it, and the eyes slick with hate— The Empress turned away from the picturesque illusion.

It felt as if heat was rising again over an old scar that had long since healed.

****

[Around midnight, before the stables of the Imperial Knights.]

Returning to the detached palace, Iona was greeted by an unexpected invitation.

She had just changed into indoor garments that Marsha had prepared when, absentmindedly slipping her hand into a pocket, she discovered a slip of paper whose sender was unknown.

Staring intently at the small scrap, Iona asked Marsha:

“Are these clothes the ones I wore before the wedding?”

“No, my lady. If I recall correctly, His Grace the Archduke had these made for you.”

“That’s a relief. At least it’s not because the laundry maid was neglectful.”

Iona murmured a hollow joke.

Paper that had once been soaked and dried always bore some unavoidable warping.

But the note in her hand, apart from its creases from being folded, was crisp and perfectly intact.

As if someone had carefully hidden it away before it was ever delivered with the rest of the freshly laundered clothing.

‘It doesn’t seem like something the Crown Prince would send.’

The handwriting was too unrefined for that.

Nor did it make sense that one of his subordinates might have written it, as all those under him were highly trained and well-educated.

And if it were the Empress…

‘She’s not the type to resort to such a clumsy trick.’

Indeed.

This summons was far too old-fashioned and obvious.

If it were the Empress or the Crown Prince, they would have created a circumstance that left Iona no choice but to appear.

But this time, the meeting’s success depended entirely on her decision.

After a brief hesitation, Marsha added carefully:

“I think… perhaps it would be best not to go.”

“I thought as much.”

“Especially the part about coming alone. That phrase is awfully suspicious.”

“Strange, isn’t it? That they picked a place where I could call upon acquaintances at any time.”

Iona murmured, sounding more intrigued than wary.

The stables of the Imperial Knights were located in a small outbuilding directly behind the main headquarters.

Though the feed storage shed was somewhat secluded, the rest of the structure was open and airy—not at all suitable for plotting harm against someone.

“No, I’ll go.”

“What? Even without knowing who called you?”

“The likeliest one is the Commander.”

Ever since Richard’s explosive declaration, Iona had not managed to properly speak with Saskia even once.

Having refused the Crown Prince’s visit, it wasn’t as if she could then turn around and meet other acquaintances openly. She had resigned herself to a half-isolated state.

If Saskia had arranged a secret meeting out of frustration, it wouldn’t be strange at all.

And given her many connections within the palace, she certainly could have orchestrated such a harmless little ruse.

“Besides, her adjutant Theobald has awful handwriting.”

Adding that with a small smile, Iona turned to check the time.

If she left now, she would arrive precisely on schedule.

She tucked several daggers for self-defense beneath her garments and wrapped herself in a large cloak.

She meant to act before her husband finished his bath and came out to stop her.

Fortunately, in the days she had spent at the detached palace, Iona had already mapped out the guards’ patrol routes.

She leaned out the window to survey the grounds.

“Wait, milady, this is the second floor…!”

Marsha froze in shock as she spotted Iona climbing onto the windowsill.

Realizing she had spoken far too loudly, Marsha quickly clapped her hands over her own mouth.

By then, Iona had already leapt from the window, landing perfectly on the grass below.

---The End Of The Chapter---

Comments

Join Our Discord

Typography