RBSP 8

Chapter 8

The Society’s Punching Bag, I’m Retiring!

Maintaining the brightest high-society smile we could muster, we finally parted ways when someone’s voice called out, searching for Ian.

“I worry I may have stolen far too much of Your Highness’s precious time. You are the guest of honor at this event, after all—I cannot monopolize you all to myself.”

“Conversing with My Lady has been my absolute pleasure. Do enjoy the rest of your day.”

The moment he departed, I finally allowed myself a deep, releasing breath.

How should I put it? After spending the last few days living unchained and speaking my mind freely, putting my guard back up to converse with all this manufactured coyness felt utterly exhausting. I felt like collapsing into the nearest available chair.

There had to be a ladies’ lounge somewhere around here. As I scanned my surroundings with a drained expression, my gaze collided with a pair of eyes I wanted to avoid seeing more than anything else in the world.

Ah, I should have just slipped away first and figured out where to go later.

“Ria!”

Not once had he ever used that affectionate nickname in the past. He must have been in a remarkably good mood. The Count trotted over toward me with a beaming, wide smile plastered across his face. The happier he looked, the more my stomach churned with irritation.

“Since when have you been on such close terms with Prince Ian? Was it at the last ball? Or some gathering before that?”

“What on earth are you talking about, Father?”

“You’re finally starting to act shrewdly! Indeed. Didn’t your old man keep telling you? One must always secure an insurance policy.”

To casually use the word “insurance” when referring to a prince. Watching the greed gleam in the Count’s eyes, I mentally repeated the words from the Gospels: Those who commit unfaithfulness shall surely burn in hell!

“My apologies, but riding in the carriage seems to have left me quite dizzy. His Highness Prince Ian approached me first, so I haven’t even had a moment to rest. I am going to head to the ladies’ lounge for a brief respite.”

“Oh, oh? Is that so? Go on, then, go rest. Your mother should be over there as well.”

Normally, he would never have permitted me to wander off to the lounge, but he really must have been in a stellar mood. He was undoubtedly weighing the two men against each other: Ian and Karl. Even if the position of a ducal mistress was enticing, nothing could compare to the allure of becoming a crown prince’s consort.

It was an obvious, transparent plot, but I brushed past him and walked away, pretending to be none the wiser. Exchanging a single extra word with the Count was infinitely less appealing than walking into a convent with my own two feet and becoming a nun.

“Lady Gloucester.”

Right as I was searching for the lounge, I ran smack into the exact person I wanted to see least of all.

Ah. Is this what they call sweetness following bitterness? Then where on earth is the sweetness, because all I’m feeling is the misery? I let out a hollow, bitter laugh.

“If it isn’t Karl. What brings you here? I honestly thought you wouldn’t come.”

Seeing not a single flicker of welcoming warmth on my face, Karl looked taken aback. For a long time, he couldn’t find the right words, merely stuttering and stammering.

“That…”

“If you have nothing of substance to say, might we postpone this conversation to another time? My head is throbbing quite a bit.”

Faced with my freezing demeanor, Karl fidgeted awkwardly. The fact that he just stood there rooted to the spot while a lady made it abundantly clear she wanted nothing to do with him proved he was a lost cause when it came to basic gentlemanly etiquette.

If Theodore was a hollow, brainless thug, Karl was a stubborn, blockheaded fool. Had it been Ian, he would have immediately offered his arm for an escort and safely guided me all the way to the lounge. Which was, after all, standard behavior for any normal gentleman.

My frustration was boiling up hot enough to burst my chest, but I swallowed the words threatening to spill past my lips.

Regardless, in the present moment—having secured neither an alternative marriage candidate to replace Karl nor a launched business venture—remaining conventionally positioned as Karl’s fiancée was the wiser path. At least for as long as my remaining sliver of patience held out.

“What is your relationship with Ian?”

The blunt question he threw out after his hesitation made my head spin even further.

“What are you talking about?”

“You were conversing with Ian.”

The casual manner in which Karl addressed Ian carried a distinct weight.

Ah, right. Ian and Karl were cousins. Since Karl’s mother and Ian’s father were siblings. Yet, I had never once witnessed the two of them occupying the same space.

Ian preferred wandering and adventure over high society, while Karl went to agonizing lengths to avoid me and duck out of every social gathering imaginable…

Consequently, I had never given a single thought to what kind of relationship they shared. Being cousins didn’t automatically mean they were close, and to be entirely frank, I simply didn’t care. It wasn’t as though I needed to micromanage my fiancé’s social circle, was it?

Though dreaming of the future had led me to view Ian as a potential stepping stone for my business ventures, not an ounce of curiosity existed between the two men.

“His Highness Ian and I are meeting for the very first time. He is the host of this event, so I merely offered him formal greetings.”

“For a mere greeting, the conversation ran rather long.”

Yet Karl’s reaction was far more prickly than I anticipated. While he was always abrasive toward me, this time it bordered on outright hostility.

“Did Ian approach you first?”

He was even tossing out baseless, paranoid nonsense.

“Ha.”

What kind of utter nonsense are you spouting?

The urge to spit those exact words out made my throat itch. While I was biting my tongue to keep from shouting, Karl struck first.

“Gloria Gloucester.”

Karl brazenly called my name, as if knowing it properly now somehow served as a badge of honor.

“Answer me.”

“Answer what?”

“What did Ian say to you?”

“Ha. What kind of profoundly rude inquiry is that?”

A heavy sigh finally slipped past my lips. To remain utterly oblivious to the fact that his words were deeply insulting both to Ian—who had kindly taken the time to explain the railways—and to me, his own betrothed, was staggering.

“You may not hold matters of faith in high regard, but the Lord declared that a marriage covenant is sacred and must be guarded as fiercely as one’s own life. Thanks to that, for the past four years, I have treated our engagement like absolute law and honored it faithfully. Do you intend to brand me as an unfaithful woman?”

Even as I delivered the cold retort, the crease between Karl’s brows showed zero sign of smoothing out.

“Unfaithful? I never treated you in such a manner.”

“You are casting suspicions on the relationship between His Highness Ian and myself right this second. If this behavior isn’t framing me as an unfaithful woman, pray tell, what is it?”

The icy rebuttal froze the air in the hallway solid. It was a massive relief that this corridor was tucked far away from the main banquet hall, completely out of sight. Had anyone witnessed this pathetic spectacle, our engagement annulment articles would have genuinely hit the presses by tomorrow morning.

“Karlroy Windsor.”

That was precisely why I could afford to be brutally honest. While I might need the shield of Karl’s fiancée status to avoid being dragged off to a convent today, that didn’t mean my life would end if this arrangement collapsed.

The situation was entirely different from the dream. The social season had only just begun, and there was no shortage of unmarried young gentlemen who had yet to secure engagements. Remaining the Junior Duke’s fiancée was merely a tool to make moving around slightly more convenient—nothing more, nothing less.

“You allowing yourself to be toyed with by the malicious games of other young ladies—annoying as it was, I turned a blind eye because I believed your actions weren’t driven by genuine malice. I believed you weren’t a faithless infidel willing to disregard even the Lord’s sacred decrees. Yet seeing you cast doubt upon me makes me question everything. Have you, by any chance, maintained absolute fidelity yourself?”

“My Lady!”

Karl snapped, his voice flaring with sharp irritation. In the north, military expeditions were frequently launched to defend the borders, making him practically a soldier in his own right. Having heard tales of him severing enemy commanders’ heads on multiple occasions, hearing him bark with actual anger made me momentarily flinch.

“You display not an ounce of consideration for me.”

My body flinched, but my mouth certainly didn’t. Once the dam of my accumulated grievances broke, shutting them back up was impossible.

“I am not a woman you can treat however you please. I entered into this betrothal as a young lady of a noble house standing on completely equal footing with you. What young gentleman of any respectable noble family would ever dare raise his voice at his own betrothed?”

“That is…”

“I am your fiancée, not your piece of property. You have neither the right to scream at me nor the right to meddle in whom I choose to converse with.”

My frustration wasn’t fueled merely by the fact that he had raised his voice just now.

Karl had always carried himself with an arrogant condescension, acting as though I were an inferior subordinate while subjecting me to constant dismissal.

Had he not looked down on me, there was zero chance he would have committed such pathetic acts as flatly rejecting a dance invitation extended directly by a lady, or ignoring our partnership obligations and deliberately staying away.

Such blatantly dismissive behavior toward a lady was strictly forbidden in high society. It was the kind of situation where a lady’s male relatives challenging him to a duel wouldn’t even be questioned. It was only uniquely permitted because this specific betrothal was between Karlroy Windsor and Gloria Gloucester.

As someone raised under a royal princess mother with an immaculate education in high-society etiquette, Karl himself knew better than anyone that his actions fell far short of a true gentleman.

“Raising my voice in front of a lady… for that, I offer my apologies. I am truly sorry.”

As expected. He wasn’t acting this way out of sheer ignorance. The fact that he actually offered an apology the moment I displayed genuine anger spoke volumes.

“Forget it. When have you ever apologized to me before?”

Despite my chilly response, Karl pressed forward with unwavering persistence.

“My emotions momentarily overpowered my reason. Knowing full well that a lady should never be addressed in such a manner… I failed to act like a gentleman.”

Hearing such a clean, unvarnished apology stirred an unexpected pang deep within my chest. Why? Was it because I had never even dreamed of receiving an apology from him?

“I merely…”

Karl’s lips twitched as he hesitated, clearly searching for the right phrasing. After pondering in silence for a agonizingly long stretch, he finally let out a heavy breath.

“In any case, it was never my intention to insult you. I shall exercise greater caution in the future.”

“If there is to be a ‘future’ for the two of us, I sincerely hope you do.”

I desperately wanted to keep him from noticing the sudden prickle of heat behind my eyes. Because his concise, unexcused apology and genuine acknowledgment felt entirely brand-new. Because having the wounds inflicted by Karl healed by a few simple, insignificant words felt so utterly foreign, as if they didn’t belong to me at all.

You truly are a fool, Gloria Gloucester. How could a single apology make my emotions sway this wildly? Fearing that Karl might mistakenly assume he was entirely forgiven, I deliberately maintained a frostier, more distant demeanor than before.