Episode 66: War of Wits
He thought it was over, but Raeliana was still there.
A wave of annoyance, irritation, and fatigue washed over him. But Yohan suppressed it and maintained his composure.
This was a party where nobles gathered, and she was the princess of the Empire. He couldn’t afford to show even the slightest weakness.
“…Your Highness, I must not have fully understood your intentions just now. Could you please explain them once more?”
Yohan forced a smile as he spoke, but his facial muscles twitched, as if they were on the verge of collapsing.
“I said I still have a chance,” Raeliana replied, her radiant smile accompanied by a light shrug.
“Count Lahart may have rejected the imperial proposal for marriage, but he hasn’t rejected my proposal as a woman, has he?”
“…….”
What kind of wordplay was this? Yohan’s carefully maintained smile was now on the verge of breaking.
“…I need to clarify, as this could cause some misunderstanding. Are you saying this proposal was initiated by Your Highness personally?”
Raeliana shook her head.
“No? I’m not such a foolish daughter as to plead with His Majesty for my own marriage arrangements.”
She continued, “This proposal was decided by His Majesty and my elder brother, the Crown Prince. However, their words represent the will of the Imperial Family, so it is naturally my will as well.”
Despite her serene smile, there was a sharp undertone to her otherwise sunny demeanor.
“…So, are you saying, Your Highness, that you wish to persist with this forced marriage proposal?”
“Yes, exactly.”
Raeliana then added with an “Ah,” as if realizing something.
“I misspoke. It’s not that I want to discuss a marriage proposal between Count Lahart and the Imperial Family, but rather one between Yohan Lahart and Raeliana Rozino.”
In other words, she was suggesting they discuss marriage purely as a man and woman.
“…I trust Your Highness is fully aware of how unreasonable this suggestion is.”
In other words, “What nonsense are you spouting?”
“Hmm? Why would that be?”
“I’m engaged to Lady Fervache.”
“So? As long as you don’t give up, the possibilities are endless, aren’t they?”
“…This doesn’t seem like the right thing to say under the current circumstances.”
“Is that so? But I can’t think of a more appropriate time to use it than now.”
This wasn’t a conversation. Yohan squeezed his eyes shut, trying to recall if Raeliana had always been this way.
As the Empire’s third princess, she wasn’t often mentioned in the original story, leaving her personality unclear.
The only previous interaction he had with her was when she summoned him to the Diamond Palace for tea under the pretense of an imperial mission.
‘I can’t figure out what she’s thinking. Could she be more of an airhead than I thought?’
Understanding her character and intentions was crucial for him to respond appropriately, but Raeliana revealed none of these aspects.
“…I thought Your Highness would be displeased with this marriage proposal.”
“And why is that?”
“Did you not say earlier that this proposal was made without Your Highness’s consent?”
Yohan gazed at her artificial smile and continued, “And that you wished to choose the man you’d spend your life with yourself.”
“…You remembered that?”
“It wasn’t so long ago, after all.”
“Hmm…”
Raeliana’s golden eyes flickered. Yohan quietly stared into them.
Under his steady gaze, she flinched momentarily but soon managed a faint smile and tilted her head slightly.
“Well, I don’t particularly like the situation, but in the end, I’m discussing a marriage with the man I want. So, I don’t see it as entirely bad.”
In the best light, it was a compromise; in the worst, it was resignation.
“So, let’s take our time to get to know each other. Even if you’re engaged, the wedding hasn’t happened yet, has it? People’s hearts can change at any time. Don’t make any hasty decisions.”
Yohan’s eyes narrowed. His brow furrowed. At this point, it seemed like insanity ran in the Imperial family. None of them were in their right minds.
“I am─”
“I cannot accept that.”
As Yohan began to speak, a familiar voice interrupted him. He turned his head. Francia was approaching, her expression hardened.
“…Francia?”
When Yohan looked at her, Francia smiled softly and tilted her head slightly.
“I was worried something might have happened since you haven’t been coming out. But here you are, with someone who seems to have completely forgotten their manners.”
Hearing those words, Raeliana’s eyebrow twitched as she realized they were clearly directed at her.
“Forgotten… manners? Lady Fervache, are you insulting me right now?”
“Why, of course not. Insulting you? I wouldn’t know how. I’m only speaking the truth.”
Francia stared directly at Raeliana, her crimson eyes deepening with displeasure.
She stepped forward and continued speaking.
“If someone who shows interest in a man who already has a lover can be said to have manners, then who in this world could be deemed ill-mannered?”
Her voice was soft, but there was a sharp, commanding edge hidden within it.
“…What?”
Raeliana let out a brief laugh of disbelief, then narrowed her golden eyes and smirked.
“I question whether openly making such remarks can be considered behavior befitting someone with dignity. Have you forgotten your own manners, perhaps?”
This was noble speech.
In interpretation…
[How dare you talk to me like that? Are you out of your mind?]
“I, for one, take pride in maintaining a decorum that does not deviate from propriety, especially when it comes to coveting another’s lover. Do you think my words are excessive?”
Another use of noble speech.
[Compared to a shameless thief lusting after someone else’s lover, I’d say I’m quite polite, wouldn’t you?]
The two women’s gazes clashed in the air. The atmosphere grew icy. A battle of wills ensued, one that neither was willing to lose. It was a matter of pride.
As their voices grew louder, Yohan began to worry that someone might notice. He glanced around nervously.
Fortunately, they were in a secluded corner of the party venue where few people were present. Many nobles had already left for their estates following the emperor’s departure.
Raeliana scoffed.
“My, the words of Lady Fervache are as bold as ever. Your family’s teachings must be quite unconventional. How fascinating.”
[You’re unbelievably rude. Is that how your family raised you?]
Francia responded with a faint smile.
“Observing Your Highness’s actions, I can’t help but wonder if His Majesty might have been a little too lenient in your education.”
[And looking at you, I’d say you didn’t get much of an education yourself.]
“…Have you truly considered the consequences of your actions? It’s incomprehensible behavior.”
[Do you even realize what you’re doing? Are you insane?]
“It was Your Highness who made the first move. Whatever happened to the basic principles of morality?”
[You’re the one who started this. Did you leave your common sense at home?]
A subtle current of tension sparked between Francia and Raeliana. Neither was willing to back down, their piercing gazes locked in a fierce standoff.
Their exchange had escalated to the point where it could hardly be called a conversation anymore.
“Um… This is getting a little too heated. How about we…” Yohan tried to intervene with an awkward laugh.
“Yohan, stay out of it. This is a fight between women.”
“Yes. Once it’s started, it should be finished properly, don’t you think?”
His attempt was promptly shut down.
Feeling the hostile tension between the two women, Yohan sealed his lips. His father, Viscount Harsen, had once advised him never to meddle in a woman’s quarrel. Given his father’s good looks and the trouble they had brought him, Yohan figured the advice came from experience.
“Your Highness, wouldn’t it be wise to consider the consequences of each action? Especially since the Fervache family already feels slighted by the imperial family. I hope you won’t make another mistake.”
[I suggest you stop before it gets worse. You know the imperial family has already angered Fervache. Push us further, and who knows what might happen.]
“Heh. Lady Fervache, what measures are you planning to take if I don’t stop? I’m curious to see what you’re capable of.”
[What will you do if I don’t stop? Do you think you can handle me?]
“Should I take that as a declaration to see this through to the end? I trust you’re prepared to bear the weight of that decision.”
[So we’re going all the way, then? Are you ready to face the consequences?]
“Ugh…!”
Unable to keep up in the exchange, Raeliana clenched her fists and bit her lip. The golden radiance of her beauty seemed to falter momentarily, yet even in frustration, she exuded a chilling allure.
“It seems the outcome is already clear. Perhaps it would be better for both of us to withdraw. Your Highness, I suggest exercising more caution in the future.”
[It’s obvious I’ve won, so let’s end it here. But remember, there won’t be a next time.]
Francia smiled leisurely, holding her head high. It was the smile of a victor.
“…Fine. Perhaps things did get a little too heated today. Let us end this here and part ways.”
Eventually, Raeliana conceded. As the third princess, she couldn’t afford to prolong the conflict with the heir of Fervache, especially when relations between their families were already strained.
“…Until next time, Count Lahart.”
“Next time? I’m not sure what you mean by that.”
“……”
Raeliana bit her lip, her gleaming golden eyes quivering before lowering to the ground.
Meanwhile, Francia maintained her calm smile, exuding confidence.
“Tsk.”
Raeliana clicked her tongue and gave Francia one last sharp glare before turning on her heels. It was the best display of anger she could muster.
Click. Click.
The sound of Raeliana’s heels echoed faintly.
“Hmph. Acting so bold only to flee in the end.”
Francia let out a breath, scoffing lightly as she straightened her posture with pride. Though they hadn’t been dating long, this was a side of her Yohan hadn’t seen before.
“Uh… um…”
Yohan decided to remain silent. With her temper still flaring, staying quiet seemed like the safest option.
“Shall we go back?” Francia asked, her icy expression now replaced with a radiant smile, as if nothing had happened.
“Y-Yeah…”
Yohan nodded weakly, exhausted just from witnessing their confrontation.