IDHIT C2

Chapter 2

The next day.

Angelina opened her eyes atop a soft bed. The ceiling came into view, and her head throbbed as if it might split apart.

And then, a voice she absolutely shouldn’t be hearing reached her ears.

“You’re awake?”

“!”

The Crown Prince’s face entered her field of vision. Angelina shot upright. In doing so, her forehead collided hard with Alexei’s, who had been leaning over her.

“Ah.”

Fragments of what had happened after she lost consciousness flashed across her frowning face.

This is insane. Completely insane.

If word got out about how much trouble the Crown Prince had gone through just to carry her unconscious self to the bed, she might end up dragged off to prison—fiancée or not.

And the tabloids would have a field day again.

They’d plaster her face everywhere, calling it the fall of a wingless lady—a perfect decalcomania of disgrace.

“Do you remember what happened yesterday?”

“Not really…”

Trailing off, Angelina suddenly went pale and looked out the window. It was far too bright outside to be called night.

“I sent someone to your house last night to inform them. Your maid went along too. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“You mean… you told my family that I’m at the annex?”

Please say no.

“Yeah. I told them you’re with me. So don’t worry—”

“Damn it.”

“What?”

Angelina sprang off the bed. Alexei grabbed her flailing arm in surprise.

“What’s wrong?”

“I have to go. I have to go now if I’m going to fix this.”

Leaving the bewildered Crown Prince behind, she dashed out of the annex.

She should’ve walked out on that freeloading bastard who dragged out their meal without even paying.

My dear Angel, when will you make up with Alexei?

After Angelina declared she was cutting ties with the Crown Prince, Marquis Agate had demanded that answer every year on her birthday—as if it were a gift.

It wasn’t about teaching her to get along with friends.

It was so he could carry out his plan.

A plan to marry Angelina to the Crown Prince.

After the Marquis passed away, the Marchioness took up the baton and continued the pressure. Once Angelina came of age, the intensity only grew.

Thinking about it now, it was strange that Lara even knew where the Crown Prince resided.

Urging the coachman on, Angelina hurried home.

“Madam isn’t here.”

…Could it be she doesn’t know?

Hope flickered for a brief moment—only to be extinguished by the maid’s next words.

“She entered the palace early this morning in a hurry.”

“I’m doomed.”

All strength left her body, and Angelina collapsed where she stood.

“My lady, are you alright?”

“No. I’m not.”

Blinking her unfocused eyes, she answered weakly.

There’s no way we’ll ever get married.

The nonsense she had spouted yesterday clawed at her mind.

Even with Alexei nowhere near her, she felt like crawling into a mouse hole and hiding.

The Empress’s private drawing room.

Maria Agate, Angelina’s mother, and Empress Valerie—her future mother-in-law—were engaged in casual conversation.

“I never imagined Your Majesty’s plan would work so well. It’s been a headache for years, and to have it resolved overnight… I was so overjoyed I couldn’t even wait for Angelina to return before coming to the palace.”

Setting down her teacup, the Marchioness spoke. Empress Valerie smiled warmly.

“I heard a carriage left the annex thirty minutes ago. Perhaps because they’re young, their reconciliation was rather… passionate. I didn’t expect it to go quite that far.”

After Marquis Anthony Agate died in the war with the Tordi Empire a year ago, Maria decided she could no longer leave the marriage issue to the two of them. The Empress agreed.

No matter how much she pressed, her daughter refused to change her mind, and so the Empress devised an unusual plan.

To make Angelina seek out Alexei herself.

They had mobilized reporters and Madam Kelt to lure her toward the Crown Prince.

It had all been orchestrated by the Marchioness and the Empress.

When Maria heard that Angelina had spent the night at the annex, she was beside herself with joy.

“I worry that Angelina is still immature.”

“She’s honest and pure. That’s her charm.”

It was a markedly different expression from the Empress’s usual icy demeanor.

“Since my husband died, I may have grown too greedy in trying to build a protective wall around Angelina. She’s used to attention… I wonder if she might bring trouble upon the imperial family.”

“Angelina’s popularity isn’t her fault. As the de facto head of the Ladies’ Association, it’s inevitable she appears in the press often.”

The Empress had long had her eye on Angelina as the Crown Princess. What began as a joking promise between the men had turned into a formal proposal from Empress Valerie to Maria Agate.

“I do worry they’re quite different in temperament. There might be friction.”

“For a rigid Crown Prince, Angelina’s spontaneity will feel like rest. And for Angelina, his prudence will be a help. I believe they’ll become the perfect couple—complementing what the other lacks.”

“How can Your Majesty be so optimistic?”

“I can’t forget that moment. Alexei was buried in a book in the corner of the banquet hall, and Angelina spilled—was it food on him?”

“It was wine.”

Maria corrected her quickly.

It was a horrifying memory. The Empress had laughed, saying it was fortunate it hadn’t been poured over his head. With his reading forcibly interrupted, the Crown Prince had no choice but to enjoy the banquet—so regardless of the method, the Empress had achieved her desired result.

“From that moment on, I considered Angelina my daughter-in-law.”

“Your Majesty…”

“And there’s also a bit of vicarious satisfaction, I admit. No matter how lofty our status, aren’t we always destined to live in the shadow of our husbands?”

“That is true.”

“Angelina will surely bring new vitality to the imperial family.”

Maria Agate nodded, silently praying it would be vitality—not firepower.

“Before any other complications arise between them, let’s hurry the wedding, Marchioness.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Seven years ago, a sudden declaration of estrangement had left both families dumbfounded.

That must never happen again.

— If the dress in the hotel painting isn’t Madam Kelt’s design, then the claim that its value was damaged doesn’t even stand. Since you never agreed to it, you’re under no obligation to return the dress they lent you unilaterally. I’ll handle this matter.

Having just heard such shocking news, Alexei’s letter barely registered in her mind.

“The Crown Prince is already taking such good care of his wife’s affairs. Isn’t that right, Angel?”

“So you’re really going to make me the Crown Princess? In ten days, no less?”

“There’s no need to be so surprised. This has been in preparation for ten years.”

The Marchioness replied calmly.

“What kind of wedding is prepared without the people involved even knowing?!”

“You were a child. It was only natural for us as your parents.”

“I’m an adult now!”

“Which is precisely why it’s time for you to marry.”

“Argh!”

Angelina clutched her hair.

“I didn’t expect such a fiery reconciliation, but that’s how things are between a man and a woman. There’s no need to be so flustered. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“It’s not like that! Go ask the Crown Prince what really happened last night!”

“Even if nothing did happen, that’s fine. There will be opportunities in the future.”

Even Father never pushed me this hard.

Suddenly, she missed him.

“There’s no way anything will happen between people who dislike each other.”

“That’s not true, Angel. The Crown Prince has agreed to this marriage.”

“Whether he agreed or not, I don’t want it. I don’t want to get married!”

Her father used to bring home injured animals from hunting grounds and even enjoyed romance novels—things said to be for women.

When he died in battle a year ago, Angelina felt as though a hole had been torn through her chest. She cried often, and her mother frequently visited the imperial palace.

Who would’ve thought it would lead to this?

“Shall I tell you how the ladies entangled with Phillips Dont are doing these days?”

“…”

“Do you feel more inclined to marry now? Please think wisely, Angel.”

She had prayed so earnestly to marry a man like her father.

Faced with that gentle yet coercive smile looking down at her, Angelina truly felt like crying.

If she couldn’t persuade her mother, then the next target was the Empress.

As the perfect regent ruling in place of the bedridden Emperor, surely the Empress would immediately recognize that Angelina was unfit for the imperial family.

So please, make the decision.

Break off this marriage that began from the friendship between their fathers—with your cold, rational judgment.

As if she had heard those thoughts, Empress Valerie raised an eyebrow while savoring her tea. Startled, Angelina quickly set down her cup. She didn’t know when she’d have another chance to meet the Empress.

“I am not qualified to be Crown Princess.”

“You needn’t worry about such things. Haven’t I watched you for over ten years?”

Have you forgotten the time I spilled wine on the Crown Prince’s book? Or how I mocked the so-called genius Crown Prince as nothing more than a bookworm fool?

“If there happens to be someone you love—”

“N-no, of course not.”

Worried the name Phillips Dont might come up, Angelina shook her head quickly.

“In that case, there’s no problem.”

“…”

“Now that you’re both adults, there’s no reason to wait any longer. Alexei will soon ascend the throne, and considering relations with the Tordi Empire, producing an heir as soon as possible is essential for the stability of the imperial family. We have high expectations of you.”

Unable to say what she truly wanted, Angelina left the audience chamber.

“Where is the Crown Prince?”