Chapter 55
“No, I was just—”
Petricks tried to stammer out an excuse, but Beatrice’s hand clamped hard around his forearm.
“Listen carefully, Petricks. He was born to stand above us all, to look down on the world from the highest place. He is special. He is noble.”
Beatrice still remembered vividly the first moment she had laid eyes on Claudio.
At the crowded garden party, sunlight had poured over him as if the heavens themselves had chosen him alone.
It was strange—everyone stood beneath the same sky, and yet only he seemed to shine.
It’s a blessing that the duke’s household bore no daughter, her father, Marquis Hemes, had muttered, clicking his tongue at Claudio’s brilliance.
From the day Beatrice was born, her father had thought of nothing but making her a queen, placing her at the side of the most powerful man in the kingdom.
Listen well, Beatrice.
Every dress you wear, every morsel you eat, every ointment you use—I bought it all.
Because you are my daughter.
Do you think I’ll keep calling you that if you defy me?
One day, Marquis Hemes had seized his daughter’s shoulder while she trailed after Claudio like a shadow, his voice ringing with fury.
Stop playing the maid to that duke!
He’ll never accept you just because you trail after him—why must you persist in such foolishness?
Beatrice had remained silent.
If you have time to waste, then ensnare that fool of a king and hasten the royal marriage!
Stop living as some pitiful marquis’s daughter and become a true wielder of power!
Spittle flew with every shout.
Beatrice had merely taken his hand and smiled sweetly.
Why, Father.
Don’t worry.
I am special.
Of course I’ll take the highest seat.
Then why do you keep doing these absurd things and disappointing me?
If you continue this way, I’ll lock you up until the wedding—
Father.
Beatrice had widened her eyes, fixing him with a gaze so dark and bottomless it reflected nothing at all.
Do not stand in my way.
Wh–what did you say?
Let me live as I please until the wedding.
If not… then I’ll simply die instead.
His hand, raised in fury, faltered.
The look in her eyes was like a wasp ready to sting—unyielding, deadly.
If you ruin the stage I’ve prepared, you’ll regret it.
Worry not.
Who else could suit the throne as well as I?
For Beatrice, Claudio was the most noble, the most extraordinary man in existence.
And she herself—she was the woman destined to stand beside him.
No matter how much he ignored her or pushed her away, none could ever match her place at his side.
“The Duke is in good health, isn’t he?”
Her smile curved sweetly, but the black depths of her eyes glittered with a strange light.
“…I suppose so.”
“‘I suppose’? Petricks, I gave you a task.”
Her hand rose, cupping his cheek with delicate care.
At once, Petricks flushed scarlet.
Oh, Petricks.
How simple you are.
Once, he had been a shabby little boy, tailing his father who worked menial chores for Marquis Hemes.
A scrap of kindness from her had been enough to turn him into a foolish, loyal puppy—ready to lay down his life for her.
“Let me ask you again. Did you finish what I asked?”
Petricks swallowed hard.
What she had asked was simple: that Claudio faced a threat to his life.
The ambush, the attempt on Claudio’s life—it had all been at Beatrice’s command.
But she had only wanted a threat.
A scare.
Yet Petricks had deliberately sent men who bore grudges against Claudio, men who had truly meant to kill.
For Petricks, Claudio had always been a thorn in his eye.
But why would she ask such a thing?
She thought of Claudio morning and night, prayed for him on her knees in a commoner’s church.
Why would she wish him in danger?
Unless—unless she wished Claudio to believe he had survived because of her prayers.
To win the frozen heart of that man by claiming his salvation as she is doing.
No matter.
That man is no good for you, Beatrice!
The eyes that dared scorn her, that arrogant face—better erased from this world.
He should be gone.
He must be gone!
Without him, Beatrice would be a flawless queen.
No rumors would cling to her name for trailing after him.
And if she ever knew Claudio had died by his hand, she would despise Petricks forever.
If I claim ignorance, if I say I never knew my men bore him a grudge…
She might not forgive at first, but time would soften her heart.
For Beatrice was angelic, merciful.
What lady of noble birth would befriend a servant’s son?
When he had fallen as a boy, she had shed tears for him.
An angel.
She was everything.
And for her sake, he would do anything.
Even if she became queen, it mattered not.
The king was weak, unworthy.
Once Claudio was gone, the only one she could lean on, the only one she could love—would be Petricks.
Of course, he could not confess such feelings now.
Nor could he tell her Claudio might already be dead.
Better to wait, until the truth reveals itself naturally.
“Why aren’t you answering me? Don’t tell me…”
Her gaze sharpened with chill suspicion.
At last, Petricks curved his lips into a smile.
“I carried out your orders perfectly.”
“Truly? And no word has slipped out?”
“Of course not. No one knows but you and me.”
“What nonsense, Petricks.”
Her eyes narrowed as she smiled.
“The one who dared harm the Duke—”
“He’s already dead.”
“Was it the Duke who dealt with him?”
Her voice chilled, fearing the culprit might have been captured, tortured, and forced to reveal everything before death.
“He was caught… but he took his own life. No one will ever know who stood behind him.”
“I see. Then all I must do is wait patiently for the Duke to return safely to me.”
She embraced him.
Petricks’ face burned crimson, fit to burst.
“Ah, Petricks. Thanks to you, everything will return to its rightful place. Thank you.”
“You know I’d do anything for you.”
He hardly understood her words, too lost in the dazed bliss of holding her.
Beatrice only smiled with satisfaction.
I know.
Oh, if only Claudio would speak such sweet words to her.
But soon he would.
How could he not, when she risked so much for his sake?
And as long as that exists…
Claudio would have no choice but to remain by her side.
Come back soon, my Duke.
Blushing prettily, she thought only of him.
***
At dawn, a herald from the ducal household appeared in Sedem Market, crying the news that the Duke’s villa stood open.
“Today only! If you believe in the worth of your goods, hurry to the Duke’s villa!”
Merchants rushed like starved hounds toward the gates.
So such a chance truly comes!
Wilford, still fuming over James who had run off with his money, hurried there as well.
But the crowd was overwhelming.
Will I even get a glimpse of the Duke today?
Crushed in the press, Wilford groaned, while Claudio stood at his study window, watching the endless line of merchants.
Then Urian entered. “My lord, preparations are complete.”
As Claudio moved toward the audience hall, Urian followed quickly at his heels.
“That woman…”
The words slipped out before he realized, and Claudio frowned, correcting himself.
“What is Marsha doing?”
He repeated her name deliberately.
Urian had the habit of nitpicking, of asking, ‘By that woman, do you mean Miss Marsha?’ And Claudio disliked hearing Marsha’s name in Urian’s mouth.
He disliked it even more than hearing it from that apothecary shopkeeper.
