Chapter 16
Not knowing what kind of trap awaited him was enough to drive him mad, but the count desperately forced the muscles of his face into a smile, pretending to remain calm.
“Ah, of course…! Please forgive my rudeness, Your Grace. I heard you selected the wine tribute from the Seton family. Thank you for bestowing such an honor upon me.”
“I heard the wine produced in the Seton territory is quite precious. I’ve always wanted to try it.”
“Y-yes, indeed. Red wine is practically the finest specialty our Seton territory can boast.”
Though he tried to respond smoothly, the count’s voice trembled ever so slightly.
The horrifying crimson box containing the severed head of the spy kept flashing before his eyes.
Still, the count secretly let out a sigh of relief as he stole a glance at the man standing behind Declan.
‘So they still haven’t caught the last spy!’
That must be why Dreven was still standing beside Declan.
He had been the count’s faithful pawn, secretly reporting every one of Declan’s movements from his closest position.
“Come now, quickly offer the wine tribute to His Grace the Grand Duke.”
Just as the count proudly urged the servant forward—
“Now that I think about it, Count, I alone am not the hero of this victory.”
Declan suddenly spoke in a strange tone.
“The knights who crossed life and death beside me are also deserving of this honor, are they not?”
What is he talking about now?
“I can’t very well keep all this glory to myself.”
A bad feeling crept in.
As expected, Declan smiled faintly, as though foretelling disaster.
“My proud knight, Dreven. Drink this wine tribute in my stead.”
“Pardon?”
The situation began taking a bizarre turn.
“Y-Your Grace, how could I possibly accept such an excessive honor…?”
Dreven, who had been standing behind Declan like a shadow, looked flustered.
Declan refusing to drink first and instead offering the wine to his knight—it was an outright insult to Seton.
“I am fine, Your Grace. How could I dare drink Your Grace’s wine—”
At that moment, a black-gloved hand pressed firmly onto Dreven’s shoulder.
“It is an order.”
“Y-Your Grace…!”
“Will a knight disobey his master’s command?”
“…I obey.”
“Glory is meant to be shared.”
Just then—
The maid carrying the tribute wine carefully approached.
As she passed by with her head lowered, pink hair swayed lightly beneath the glow of the chandelier.
Declan’s usually relaxed gaze narrowed slightly.
This is bad. Really bad.
‘Why do I have to deliver the wine to Hugo?’
Stealing away the poison had been one thing, but the real problem started now.
Prina squeezed her eyes shut.
She had wanted nothing more than to stay quiet and unnoticed until the banquet ended, but things had turned out like this.
‘There’s no choice. If I want to save Hugo, this is the only way.’
Surely no one else in the world would go this far for an ex-boyfriend.
‘You better be grateful to me, Hugo!’
The luxurious carpets lining the walls, the golden ornaments, and the banners hung along the stairways glittered as though the banquet hall had been redecorated entirely for the victory celebration.
At the center of it all stood Declan.
All eyes gravitated toward him, and the reflected light made everyone else’s faces appear blurred.
Yet their presence was unmistakable.
“Wasn’t Count Seton the one who said even the Caesar Knights wouldn’t be able to win?”
“Exactly. Now that the Grand Duke has returned victorious, he’s desperately trying to curry favor. It’s pathetic.”
Mockery aimed at Count Seton drifted throughout the hall.
“It simply proves how merciful and benevolent His Grace is.”
Who’s merciful, and who’s benevolent?
Prina scoffed inwardly.
“Now then, bring the tribute wine here at once!”
At that moment, Count Seton shouted.
Keeping her head lowered, Prina stepped forward.
That short walk across the red carpet felt endlessly long.
At last, she stopped directly in front of Hugo.
When she carefully lifted her gaze from the floor, their figures finally came clearly into view.
Count Seton, Hugo, and…
‘Huh…?’
Prina froze.
‘That one is Declan?’
He looked completely different from how she had imagined.
‘That’s… black hair?’
No—it was closer to dark brown.
‘And his eyes aren’t really red either… more orange.’
Wait a second…
That appearance matched the knight who was supposed to be assassinated in Declan’s place.
Prina looked toward Hugo with trembling eyes.
Even the clothing was far more extravagant on Hugo’s side, as if he were the true protagonist. The sense of wrongness deepened.
Hugo stared at her silently.
His eyes, lowered over the rim of the glass, were calm yet profound.
“…Your Grace, this wine is offered with utmost loyalty.”
Count Seton spoke in a trembling voice.
“May divine blessings grant you lasting peace and glorious prosperity.”
His voice shook with fear.
“Serve the wine to His Grace’s knight.”
Finally, the moment had come.
Prina’s hand trembled faintly. Keeping her head bowed low, she obeyed the order.
And held the glass out directly to Hugo.
“……”
“……”
A brief silence fell.
‘What is this?’
“Ahem! Didn’t I tell you to serve the wine to His Grace’s guard knight?!”
Count Seton barked irritably.
But I did.
Prina sensed the atmosphere turning strange.
As she lifted her head, blood-red eyes stared directly at her. Beneath that gaze, the small mole near the corner of his eye stood out vividly.
Only then did a chill run down her spine.
Something was terribly wrong.
‘N-no way.’
No. It couldn’t be.
Faced with the ominous realization, Prina desperately denied it.
But—
“That’s enough, Count.”
Hugo leisurely shifted his gaze and continued.
“I’ve changed my mind. I’ll drink it myself. Seton should be allowed to save face by having the master accept the drink first.”
His tone held neither haste nor displeasure.
He simply curved his lips into a calm smile.
“T-then it would be my honor, Your Grace…!”
Watching Count Seton treat Hugo with utmost reverence made Prina dizzy.
‘Then Hugo’s true identity is…’
At that moment, long, elegant fingers wrapped around the glass she offered.
The black glove slid smoothly along the rim. His fingertips brushed lightly over the back of her hand.
“Ah.”
Startled, Prina instinctively let go.
By the time she regained her senses, the glass was already in Hugo’s hand.
His red eyes remained fixed solely on her as he slowly drank the wine.
“It feels like we only just said goodbye, and yet here we are meeting again.”
Hugo, who had only been silently watching her until now, spoke gently.
His eyes curved softly, and the small tear-shaped mole beneath the corner of his eye became more pronounced with his smile.
“Your Grace.”
Count Seton’s gaze remained fixed on Hugo.
“Do you know this lowly maid?”
Prina’s body stiffened.
“We’ve met before. Several rather fateful encounters, actually.”
Count Seton narrowed his eyes as though trying to discern the truth.
Every gaze in the banquet hall was focused on Hugo.
As though the brown-haired knight standing beside him didn’t matter at all.
Even as her mind drifted into numbness, that sight alone remained strangely vivid.
Hugo stood there with absolute confidence, as though he had always belonged at the center of this place.
‘Ah, please…’
Honestly, this can’t be happening!
The misunderstanding she had built up all this time began shattering into pieces.
Now, at last, she understood the truth.
“Isn’t that right, Miss Pelt?”
No.
It couldn’t be.
Cold sweat streamed down her back.
“I think you were carrying a wine bottle last time too. And now you’re carrying wine again here.”
She could barely remember which “last time” he meant.
The Layton Bridge?
She wished it were that.
But perhaps he meant the moment they encountered each other while she was placing the tribute wine in Count Seton’s room.
Prina’s lips parted slightly, then closed again.
Hugo didn’t rush her.
With those gently curved eyes, he simply waited for her answer.
That patience was even crueler.
As though he intended to observe every second of her silence, leaving her no room to dodge the situation with clumsy excuses.
“You seem to like alcohol.”
Hugo asked softly.
“You should stop drinking. It’s bad for your health.”
“Ah—”
Before the startled Prina could even pull her hands back, the silver tray and wine bottle were already in his grasp.
As her empty hands froze awkwardly in midair, the fingertips of his black-gloved hand brushed lightly along the outside of her wrist.
Then, without a care, he handed the items to the knight waiting beside him.
The knight accepted them obediently, as though serving his master.
With utmost respect.
All the noise around her faded into the distance.
Her vision darkened, and the banquet hall felt impossibly far away.
‘This can’t be right…’
But everything pointed toward a single answer.
Which meant Hugo…
Hugo was…
‘Hugo… is Declan?’
