Chapter 23
Raymond rushed toward Erin as if he had been waiting for this moment.
He saw her wiping the sweat from her forehead while chatting with students from the swordsmanship department. Every now and then, she laughed lightly, looking surprisingly approachable.
What’s this… Erin Rius? Since when did she know how to smile like that?
That sight twisted Raymond’s insides even more.
“Erin, earlier I didn’t properly greet—”
As he spoke, Raymond habitually reached out to pat her head. Every time his hand touched her before, she would blush and like it.
Because of that, Raymond had never once considered that Erin might reject him. That would’ve been absurd.
Erin Rius had always been a girl who craved affection.
Smack—
Raymond’s face twisted instantly, but he quickly masked it with an awkward expression.
Erin had slapped his hand away. Not just lightly—she put real force into it.
His hand quickly turned red and swollen.
Raymond felt something strange from Erin.
He had met her a few months ago as well. Back then, she had been no different from usual—chattering at him, blushing.
Like a clueless puppy, she had always welcomed and followed him.
That’s why Raymond felt that something about her had changed.
Just then, Erin smiled shyly and said softly:
“I’m sweaty, so I might smell, Raymond.”
Right… there’s no way. Erin Rius wouldn’t change.
Raymond swallowed those words and muttered,
“…Maybe it’s because you joined the swordsmanship department. You’ve changed a little, Erin.”
“That can’t be. You’re exactly the same as before… I’m really glad.”
Her words carried multiple meanings.
Raymond hadn’t changed at all.
That smile, those gestures—and the fact that he was trash.
Erin wanted to thank him for staying the same.
Because now, she wouldn’t feel even a shred of guilt while taking her revenge.
Despite her thoughts, she wore a beautiful smile.
It was so captivating that even Philip, standing beside her, stared in surprise.
* * *
“Perdin Lexia.”
Perdin looked at the man calling his name.
A massive figure, large enough to block the doorway, stood before him.
This man was known as one of the three pillars supporting the empire.
“It’s been a while, Duke Asilly.”
It was certainly strange for a prince to speak formally while a duke spoke casually, but the other party was Duke Asilly.
Aside from the emperor, no one could dare speak informally to him.
Moreover, since the duke had been close with Perdin’s mother, the tone they used since childhood had naturally continued into adulthood.
Duke Asilly’s expression was unusually relaxed.
Though his fierce face made it hard to tell, Perdin—who had known him since childhood—could notice the difference.
Next to the duke, the duke’s daughter quietly sipped her tea, looking thoroughly annoyed.
She placed her teacup down with a sharp clack.
It was far from the refined and elegant image people expected of a noble lady.
Yet, Duke Asilly looked at her fondly, as if even that behavior was adorable.
Seeing that doting side of him, Perdin frowned slightly.
At that moment, the duke’s expression hardened as he turned to Perdin.
“So you accepted the engagement with Erin Rius without resistance… Did you know? Did your ability show you her talent?”
Perdin looked at him, puzzled.
From that expression, the duke realized Perdin didn’t know about Erin’s talent.
Then why?
Duke Asilly couldn’t understand.
Perdin Lexia was not the naive, angelic prince people believed him to be.
He was someone who could become more ruthless than anyone else to protect the many lives resting on his shoulders.
Hadn’t he even pretended to date the duke’s own daughter—whom he couldn’t stand—to achieve his goals?
The duke still couldn’t forget the two of them linking arms with disgusted expressions.
It was impossible for the duke to directly support Perdin in his conflict against Ditrion.
Currently, the empire was balanced by three Sword Masters, each checking the power of the others—and two of them were on the emperor’s side.
Thus, an unspoken rule existed: they could not interfere in imperial succession disputes.
However, they couldn’t interfere in their children’s relationships.
In the end, the children used me indirectly.
That’s why Duke Asilly assumed Perdin had accepted the engagement after recognizing Erin’s talent—and intended to use her.
To be chosen by the sword meant possessing extraordinary potential.
If Perdin truly intended to maintain the engagement for that reason, the duke had no intention of letting it slide.
A future Sword Master like Erin Rius being used as a mere pawn was unacceptable to someone who walked the path of the sword.
“Why are you keeping Erin Rius by your side? You’re not unaware of the emperor’s schemes. What exactly did you see with those eyes?”
The reason the Lexia imperial family maintained its current prosperity—
The Eye that sees truth.
Perdin Lexia possessed that ability.
Only Duke Asilly, his daughter, and a few from the Holy Kingdom knew this.
If the emperor found out, he would likely try to kill Perdin immediately.
If only he could use it whenever he wanted…
The duke thought as he stared at him.
The Eye that sees truth showed fragments of reality—memories of the past—randomly.
Perdin couldn’t control it freely.
Still, it was useful enough that the duke assumed he had seen Erin’s talent through it.
But that didn’t seem to be the case.
Perdin shook his head.
“That’s not something I can tell you.”
Indeed, Perdin had seen something about Erin.
But it wasn’t her brilliant talent or the happy life of a marquis’s daughter.
What he saw was a small, pitiful child hiding under a bed, covering her mouth to keep from making noise as she cried.
That image closely resembled his own past.
It made no sense.
Erin Rius was known as the treasured daughter of a marquis, loved and cherished. No one doubted it.
People believed she became a wicked woman only because her father spoiled her too much.
Perdin thought it impossible that she had such a miserable childhood.
Yet his ability told him otherwise.
Duke Asilly said nothing further.
Because his daughter, sitting beside him, jabbed his side and frowned.
“Sometimes people have things they want to hide, Father. Especially if they’re painful memories.”
“….”
“So you have to wait until they tell you themselves. Some memories hurt just to recall. And don’t judge her based only on rumors—just like how people think I have an easy, lucky life because I’m your daughter and a saint.”
The duke became flustered at her words.
She was probably the only person who could subdue him with just words.
“But that’s not true. I’m always in pain. People say they’d love to be in my position—that life would be easy—but they only see what they want to see.”
“….”
“And… I don’t think Lady Erin is evil. She felt like you, Father.”
Perdin’s face twisted at those words.
He couldn’t understand how Erin resembled that massive, mountain-like man.
The duke was a middle-aged man with a mustache, after all.
Of course, he knew she didn’t mean appearance—but still, he didn’t like the comparison.
“And Lady Erin is my friend.”
The duke’s daughter paused briefly.
“Well… I think I’m the only one who sees it that way for now…”
For once, Perdin thought she was right.
Erin was not evil.
People judged others based on appearances and rumors.
To outsiders, Perdin might look like a perfect prince with an easy life.
But in reality?
His father wanted him dead, and his brothers hated him.
