Chapter 11. Between Hatred and Silence
Eleanor stared blankly at the angry Count Grace. But when he glared at her, she gave him a sweet smile as if nothing had happened.
“Don’t be so angry, Father.”
“You dare speak so calmly right now? We’re way past the meeting time, and yet he hasn’t shown up! This means he has no intention of talking to us!”
Of course, Eleanor wasn’t feeling calm either.
That night, Kylus… didn’t take her hand.
She hadn’t expected him to agree right away, knowing how cautious he was. But still—three days had passed with no word from him.
To be honest, Eleanor was anxious inside.
‘I thought this would be easier than before… Maybe I was wrong?’
Today’s meeting had been arranged by the emperor himself, who felt responsible for the incident at the banquet.
The House of Carniel was known to be firmly aligned with the emperor.
‘He’ll show up today.’
Count Grace’s hand clenched his cane so tightly that the veins bulged.
He had a foul temper and often hit people, though in the palace he wouldn’t dare lash out. But once they returned home, Eleanor knew her cheek would be burning red.
Just as she began feeling frustrated at being stuck in this same tiring routine, the count lost his patience and stood up.
“Get up, now!”
Eleanor bit her lip.
Why hasn’t he come? If we go back now…
‘The wedding will be delayed, and we’ll be stuck playing mind games again like in the past.’
She thought about Kylus’s cold eyes that night. Was it a mistake to think he’d choose differently this time?
If he refused to cooperate, maybe she’d have to use more forceful methods—unlike before.
‘I know enough to threaten Kylus, but…’
Eleanor gave a bitter smile.
‘If I do that, I’ll be no different from you, Father.’
She had let go of her feelings for her husband. But she didn’t want to return to the terrible relationship they once had—forcing him into bed like a beast, arguing after battles, misunderstanding and hating each other.
‘I was tired of all that.’
Then, Count Grace stomped his foot.
“What are you doing, Eleanor?! Are you deaf?!”
She sighed exaggeratedly.
“Father, this is the imperial palace.”
His eyebrows twitched in fury.
“This is an insult to our family! Just because he’s a duke doesn’t mean he can treat us like this. I’ve had enough—we’re leaving. Get up!”
Seeing she didn’t move, the count reached toward her.
His hand was rough. If it grabbed her, it would definitely bruise.
“Yes, I understa—”
At that moment, there was commotion outside.
Footsteps rushed toward the room—likely a royal servant.
There was a sharp knock. The count stopped.
“….”
Then, the door opened cautiously.
A pale, young servant entered. Probably forced to stand in for others who didn’t want to deal with this awkward meeting.
And the man who could make a servant go pale with fear?
‘You came.’
As the servant quickly moved aside, a tall man entered.
Calm black hair, pale skin not typical for a knight, deep amethyst eyes, firm lips.
Unlike at the banquet, his face was completely expressionless, as if hiding all emotion.
‘He’s not here with friendly intentions.’
The count clearly disliked it.
Even though he was in the weaker position, Kylus still acted proud, which only annoyed Count Grace more.
Kylus said nothing as he stood before them, his gaze fixed only on Count Grace—completely ignoring Eleanor.
As the count sat down angrily, Kylus also took his seat.
“No matter if I’m below you in rank, this kind of disrespect is unacceptable.”
Even though the count was being rude, Kylus didn’t frown or clench his fists.
The air simply grew heavier.
Eleanor chose to become an observer for now.
The conversation moved quickly.
“Nothing has been finalized between our families yet. Let’s keep things polite, Count Grace.”
“How can you say that, Duke? Didn’t you already agree to accept my precious daughter? Your appearance here proves it!”
“If dragging someone here counts as an answer, then your logic must be very convenient.”
“Hah! If you came here just to insult me—!”
“I’ll do it.”
The count froze like a broken wind-up toy.
The sly middle-aged man blinked slowly, staring at Kylus.
“What did you say?”
Kylus turned his head for the first time. His slow gaze fell on Eleanor.
Their eyes met.
Even though she knew the count was suspicious, Eleanor couldn’t look away.
Kylus was answering her.
“I’ll do it.”
He was saying it to her, not the count.
Her heart ached a little.
In the past, she had desperately wished for him to look at her like that just once.
Now that he finally did, it made her feel strangely empty.
‘So you could have done this all along.’
It was a small resentment.
“I accept the marriage.”
Ignoring her swirling emotions, Eleanor thought:
‘Polite speech really doesn’t suit him at all.’
* * *
Later, the count recalled the events at the palace, stroking his chin.
It had gone too smoothly.
He’d expected months of back-and-forth negotiations.
“That arrogant man should’ve put up more of a fight. Accepting my daughter so easily? Could it be the emperor pressured him…? No, he’s not the type to give in easily. Then what’s the reason?”
Count Grace felt a tight pressure in his stomach—like something stuck there.
“There must be a reason Duke Carniel suddenly gave in.”
Something was off.
Ever since his daughter returned after running away, things hadn’t gone according to his expectations.
“Tsk.”
Was it a bad outcome? No. That’s why he was holding back his discomfort.
Like hunting—you must act quickly to collar a wild beast.
If this meant he could control Duke Carniel more easily and sooner than planned, then he should’ve been pleased.
And yet…
‘Yes, that look. I didn’t like her expression.’
He had seen the way Eleanor looked at Kylus.
That calm and quiet gaze didn’t sit well with him.
She should have hated him more. Resented him more.
The same for Kylus—he had looked at Eleanor as if she were nothing, then smiled only at the count, as if showing loyalty.
‘That’s not like you, Eleanor.’
Count Grace knew well what feelings Eleanor hid behind those quiet green eyes.
He had once watched her carefully, pretending not to notice her secret actions when she was a child.
Not because he loved her, but because he planned to use her later.
‘Don’t tell me… Eleanor told him the truth?’
No—that couldn’t be. Kylus’s gaze didn’t seem any different than usual.
Eleanor and the count—despite their composed appearance, both hid deep hatred within.
‘If he knew the truth, there’s no way he’d look at her like that.’
Wasn’t Kylus supposed to be chasing after his “savior”?
Count Grace smirked.
Truth can always be twisted and used. But young people were still too naive.
“You there.”
“Yes, my lord.”
A maid stepped out from the shadows.
The count smiled with satisfaction.
His loyal tools. People he raised and trained carefully.
Even though Eleanor had recently mistreated her maids, which ruined his original plan of placing ten spies with her, these two were enough.
They would control Eleanor after her marriage and stop her from doing anything suspicious in the Carniel household.
Needing to meet the count monthly for “antidotes,” she would suffer—without even realizing she was walking toward her death.
“I’ve loosened her leash a little, but don’t forget your real mission. That girl is a fake. She’s not your true little lady. Understand?”
The maid’s eyes turned glassy.
“Yes, my lord. I understand.”
“And so…”
Tap. He drummed his fingers on the chair arm.
“Where is the real little lady right now?”
