~Chapter 32~
“…They don’t sell people?”
So it wasn’t human trafficking?
Serel had once been kidnapped and caught up in a slave trade orchestrated by Rivier.
From childhood, Rivier had shamelessly sold children her own age into slavery as if it were nothing.
It was a horrific, inhumane crime. That sin of Rivier’s clung to me the entire time I possessed her, like it was my own.
That guilt never left me—not for a single moment until I escaped her body.
Khalid fell silent for a moment, then nodded as if recalling something.
“If the Marquis’s daughter went through something like that, it’s understandable you’d be suspicious. Is that why you harbor such hostility toward Rivier Arfin?”
“……”
It didn’t seem like he expected an answer. Arms crossed, he studied my face carefully before continuing.
“You’ve heard of dogfighting arenas, haven’t you?”
“…Dogfighting?”
“They lock up aggressive dogs and make them fight. People bet on the outcome—winner lives, loser dies.”
I searched my memories. Tried to find if Rivier’s consciousness had any trace of such a thing.
But nowhere in her memories was there mention of dogfighting.
Which meant this was something Rivier had started after I left her body—a new sin.
“They’re not selling people. They’re putting them in the dogfighting ring. Instead of dogs, people are made to fight.”
My face twisted in disgust.
Not an arena, but a dogfighting ring. Even the name implied a complete disregard for humanity.
I bit my lip to suppress the images forming in my mind—the grotesque scene of such a place.
My stomach churned despite being empty.
I tried to calm myself by drinking the water in front of me, but even it seemed to carry a foul, metallic taste.
Outside, the sky had already grown dark. Rain quietly fell between gaps in the clouds.
A night like this matched the dark conversation too perfectly.
I exhaled like sighing.
“But you were on the right track. What I needed was the ledger—and that’s why I needed the Marquis’s help.”
“Not a slave trade ledger, but a list of people involved in the dogfighting ring.”
“Yes.”
Khalid didn’t just want the heads of those running the dogfighting ring.
He wanted everyone who used it.
Destroying the ring and punishing the operators would be easy enough.
But that wouldn’t be enough.
Because the one truly running it was Rivier Arfin.
Even if one ring was shut down, others would sprout in its place like weeds.
So the users needed to be rooted out too.
Only by punishing the clients can you stop others from taking their place.
Of course, it wouldn’t prevent recurrence completely. But at the very least, it would instill fear: “You can be punished for this.”
Above all—
If I could just find proof tying Rivier Arfin to it—
I could tarnish her honor.
And that’s what Khalid truly wanted—
For Rivier to lose the blind faith of her followers.
“Unless that trust collapses, Rivier never will.”
Having lived in her body, I knew that better than anyone.
Even if Khalid, the Crown Prince, attacked her relentlessly, Rivier’s presence in this empire was still overpoweringly enormous.
“So, do you know where the dogfighting ring is?”
“Only a rough guess for now. But once the Joubert Merchant Group departs, we can track their route and find it.”
If even Khalid’s intelligence network couldn’t locate it, then Count Joubert might be careless, but the operators of the ring were not.
“Then we have to act quickly. I’ll make direct contact with Count Joubert.”
“…You will?”
“Yes. That’s the easiest way.”
When I nodded naturally, Khalid frowned again.
“You’re saying you’ll get involved in outside affairs?”
“This isn’t an outside matter. It’s still Marquis business. So me handling the negotiation is the natural choice. If Father were to act himself, wouldn’t that raise Rivier Arfin’s suspicion? And Count Joubert won’t deal with someone he deems unworthy.”
Given the tense rumors circulating right now, the Marquis couldn’t be seen moving openly.
If he suddenly contacted Count Joubert, Rivier would suspect far more than coincidence.
Why is he moving now?
Could there be a secret alliance with Khalid?
Is this tied to the broken engagement?
If Rivier—who feared Khalid’s rising power—saw it as a political warning, it could backfire.
But if I made the move?
It might seem suspicious—but it could be explained.
After the ball, I had become the woman who “fell in love with Khalid at first sight.”
In that context, even if I met Count Joubert, Rivier would just think—
“A foolish girl blinded by love, doing this for the Crown Prince.”
And Rivier would understand just how foolish love could make someone.
She’d seen it clearly—through Khalid.
So, if I moved, she wouldn’t be on guard.
At least not enough to see me as the real threat.
“And you’re sure she won’t suspect you?”
…I couldn’t explain everything to Khalid.
After all, he was the fool blinded by love, and the one who made him lose his mind—
Was me, while possessing Rivier.
So I gave him a more reasonable answer. One that Rivier could plausibly accept too.
“I have a perfect excuse to meet Count Joubert right now.”
“What is it?”
“A guardian.”
I remembered the humiliation from the ballroom a few days ago.
Though I stood my ground, those three sisters had crossed the line.
But adults meddling in a children’s fight is unseemly. Using the family’s power would’ve only made it worse—people would call it abuse of influence.
And that would’ve made Serel’s remaining academy life miserable.
That’s why the Marquis, though aware of her suffering, couldn’t step in.
He did try a roundabout way—but even that failed.
He probably blocked Count Joubert from entering Rajan under a business pretense.
That’s why the Marquis’s tactic didn’t work.
If he had tried another route, it might’ve succeeded.
But since I was the one in the middle of that fight, it made sense for me to step up.
“I was never a noble to begin with. So if I show up as Serel’s guardian, Count Joubert will let his guard down. He’ll underestimate me.”
“And you’re fine with being underestimated?”
“If it creates an opening, absolutely.”
Being underestimated didn’t actually hurt me. Not physically, anyway.
My pride might take a hit—but pride doesn’t solve problems.
If a little wounded pride gets me something greater, then it’s worth the cost.
I shrugged as I answered. Khalid still frowned in displeasure.
Then he reached for his wineglass again.
He downed it in one go, then slammed it down on the table.
“I don’t intend to make anyone a scapegoat. And I won’t accept profit born from someone else’s sacrifice.”
“…Ah.”
“Wounds of the heart are still wounds. And they often last longer than those on the body.”
“……”
“If you plan to work with me from now on—don’t treat yourself carelessly. Even if it’s just your feelings.”
“……”
“Sometimes, the wounds you can’t see are the ones that hurt the most.”
He didn’t say it purely for my sake.
Khalid had always been infinitely kind to those he cared for.
Even if he didn’t fully trust me yet, it seemed he had decided to work with me going forward.
He was laying down the rules.
And yet…
The one who says, “Emotional pain lasts longer”…
The one who says, “The invisible wounds hurt more”…
He knew too well—how deep the wounds were.
The wounds he had suffered.
Wounds left not by me—but by her.
His words left a deeper ache in my heart than I expected.
