Episode 7. To Kill or To Spare
It was the first time such a big argument had erupted.
Ryan was briefed by the butler about the fight and also learned that Lady Roze had thrown a tantrum and collapsed into bed from anger.
“What exactly are the rumors?” Ryan asked.
“They say you’ve been… letting a servant boy attend you in bed at night.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
Ryan’s cold eyes shifted to Morant, who was standing quietly beside the butler.
He had thought the gossip would fade on its own, but clearly, it had gone too far.
Too late to ignore it. Now he had to take action.
“Morant. From now on, stick with the butler and learn house management.”
“…Excuse me? But what about serving you, my lord?”
“You don’t need to.”
“But I, I want to stay by your side…”
“That’s an order. Until the rumors calm down, you’ll do as I say.”
Ryan gazed at Morant’s pale, delicate face.
He couldn’t throw him out of the estate—Morant was too skilled and useful.
But neither could he risk letting that lovely face be scarred by gossip.
Meanwhile…
“Are you seriously buying more?”
On the road to Stroud, in a quiet village, Barnes Hilvardo ignored his aide’s protests and swept items from the market stalls into his arms.
“This hair ornament—it matches Violetta’s eyes.”
“No, it doesn’t. Not at all.”
Ohil, Barnes’s closest aide, knew exactly how excited his master was.
He’d already reminded him dozens of times to behave with some dignity.
“Your Highness, the carriage is already stuffed full with gifts for the duchess. Please, stop buying.”
“But I don’t know what she’ll like.”
“She’ll like everything. So please, enough already…”
Ohil sighed when Barnes picked up a basket of apples.
Honestly, it would be simpler if his lord just bought the entire market. And the scary part was… he probably would.
As they left the stalls and headed toward the inn’s stables, they overheard two men talking.
“Hey, did you hear about the duke?”
Barnes stopped dead, his cheerful expression freezing into stone.
“They say a young servant entered the mansion, and apparently the duke’s… You know… with him.”
“No, no. What I heard is the duke favors this new servant, and now the duchess is bullying him.”
“What’s there to bully about? If he’s good at his job, that’s great.”
“Jealousy, maybe? Happens when someone outshines you.”
“Yeah. If it’s the duchess, I can see that.”
“Right? That woman’s definitely capable of that.”
Ohil touched Barnes’s stiff arm.
“Your Highness, please ignore them. People gossip even about the Emperor. The duchess would never do such a thing.”
But Barnes’s reaction was far from calm.
“No… I need to remember exactly how Violetta is treated in Stroud.”
He ran his hand through his hair, muttering, “That way, I’ll know whether to kill my brother… or let him live.”
The gossiping men stopped laughing when they noticed Barnes’s icy glare.
The sight of the richly dressed, dangerous-looking man made their throats dry up.
I wanted to run away.
Run away with Jaive, anywhere far from here.
Far from my husband, who treated me like a tool.
Far from my mother-in-law, who used me as her emotional trash can.
But I stayed. Because of my family, tied to Stroud through Jaive’s future inheritance.
I bandaged up my wounded heart and forced myself to endure.
If Morant won’t leave on his own, I’ll make him.
The thought formed clearly in my mind.
Then another, darker suspicion I’d been nursing grew into a full theory.
Morant is actually a woman, disguised as a man.
He claimed he grew slowly because of poverty and malnutrition.
But sixteen years old, and not even a hint of stubble?
I needed proof.
If I was right, then he’d been hiding his sex and using it for unfair gain.
That would be enough reason to drive him out.
But if I’m wrong?
Well, what else was left of my reputation anyway? I’d simply become “the jealous duchess who bullied her husband’s beloved servant.”
Another shameful title on top of “greedy, money-mad woman.”
So, I set things in motion.
I told the butler to keep track of Morant’s daily behavior inside the mansion.
I ordered the knight captain to dig into his family background.
I even pulled a maid aside and told her to secretly watch him all day and report anything strange.
The imperial knights’ arrival in Stroud stirred mixed emotions among the townsfolk.
Women worried that skirmishes might escalate into war.
Children gawked in awe at the armored soldiers.
Young men thought of enlistment and opportunity.
Old parents feared losing their sons to the battlefield.
But those who knew of Barnes Hilvardo’s fame at the head of the column praised the Empire’s mercy.
They believed the war against the barbarians would soon end.
So, amid both cheers and anxious whispers, the knights arrived.
Waiting to greet them were the Stroud couple.
Ryan in his dark brown uniform, and I in a pale orange gown—together, like a picture-perfect noble pair.
“Welcome to Stroud,” Ryan said with his polished diplomatic smile, removing his black glove to offer a handshake.
Barnes looked at the hand for a long moment before slowly moving his arm, the clink of armor heavy with intimidation.
His black hair stirred in the wind as he removed his helmet.
His icy blue eyes passed right over Ryan’s hand… and fixed on me.
From head to toe, he studied me as if committing every detail to memory.
His gaze was sharp, magnetic, almost predatory.
“Good to meet you, Duke. And Duchess.”
Then, finally, he shook Ryan’s hand—very briefly.
“A-ah… please allow us to guide you!” Ohil jumped in loudly, desperate to cut through the suffocating atmosphere.
The butler quickly stepped forward to direct the knights to their lodgings.
Servants bustled to escort them to the barracks and mansion.
Among those chosen to serve Barnes and his men… was Sola, still pretending to be Morant.
From Sola’s perspective, Barnes Hilvardo was another dazzling male lead.
The duke is handsome, but so is the prince.
Ryan’s golden hair had always felt a little alien to her—rare and otherworldly. Beautiful, but distant.
Barnes’s black hair, on the other hand, felt familiar, comforting.
His strength, his authority, his wealth, his face—everything about him was perfect.
‘Honestly, I wouldn’t mind if he became the male lead instead.’
She shivered with delight at the thought of such powerful men loving her.
She was so caught up in her fantasies that she didn’t notice Barnes watching her intently.
Not with affection, though. His gaze was sharp, suspicious, like the edge of a blade.
That evening, in Stroud’s grand hall, a light reception was prepared beside the main dining room.
Tea and snacks were laid out for conversation before the banquet.
The hardest part of planning had been Lady Roze.
She refused to attend any of the prince’s events, no matter how I begged or argued.
Not even the excuse of “encouraging soldiers fighting for the Empire” worked on her.
So once again, the Strouds’ hostility toward the prince was on public display.
Still, I had done my best to arrange a graceful setting.
Ryan and I sat side by side. Across from us sat Barnes and his aide.
“Thank you for coming all this way for Stroud,” Ryan began.
“I came for the Empire,” Barnes replied.
Even these polite phrases bristled with hostility.
I hadn’t expected a friendly conversation, but this was even colder than I’d feared.
I lifted my teacup, feeling its weight like lead. Maybe this meeting was a mistake.
And then—
“Duchess.”
The silence was broken by Barnes.
“Yes, Your Highness?”
“I have a question.”
“Please, go ahead.”
“Now that you’re married… are you happy?”
