Chapter 34
“Before I grind your tongue and feed it to the dogs!”
Pierre shouted with a throbbing vein in his neck, flailing like a madman.
But even in the face of his tantrum, Aselin didn’t flinch.
“You sold off your family’s legacy for money, and now you’re throwing a tantrum? If I hadn’t bought the factory, you would’ve gone bankrupt long ago. You’d be drowning in debt again, and the Rondinella name would be in ruins.”
“Shut that mouth! I’ll rip it off if you don’t! If it weren’t for your filthy tricks, the factory would be doing just fine! Do you even know how much money I wasted on your pointless research? And now you stab me in the back, you worthless brat!”
Pierre screamed like a madman.
Aselin calmly picked up her dropped bag and dusted it off.
“That ‘pointless’ research is the only reason you’re still living like a human being. Otherwise, you’d be rotting in prison for your massive gambling debts. And please, stop blaming others for your failures. Also, don’t steal what others built like a filthy thief.”
“Th… thief?”
Pierre’s face turned beet red, as if someone was strangling him.
His lips trembled with rage, and then he suddenly let out a chilling laugh.
Aselin guessed what that laugh meant and quickly pulled something out of her bag, hiding it behind her back.
As expected, Pierre rolled up his sleeves and advanced menacingly.
“You little rat! You just don’t get it, huh? I’ll show you what happens when a greedy woman steps out of line!”
Just as he lunged to grab her arm, she tried to throw a self-defense powder into his face—
“Ugh!”
But suddenly, Pierre was lifted off the ground.
His terrified eyes looked up to see the tall man gripping his neck.
“…P-Prince Claude…”
Pierre’s legs flailed, but Claude didn’t even blink.
His long, sharp eyes glowed red with a piercing intensity, and his closed lips formed an unreadable line—was it a smile or a mask of cold indifference?
The air around him bristled with killing intent, enough to make anyone watching shiver.
Just like that day five years ago, when he wiped out the royal guards.
Aselin instinctively stepped back.
Claude was twisting Pierre’s neck like one would wring a chicken’s.
Pierre’s struggling grew weaker, and his face paled like a corpse.
Aselin clenched her fists, ready to stop him.
Memories of all the abuse, insults, and betrayal filled her mind—Pierre stealing her herb journal and trampling over her.
If he died now, nothing would happen.
As royalty, Claude would never face punishment.
Aselin bit her lip and turned away.
Then—
[Remember this, Aselin. An apothecary’s duty is to save lives. If you forget that, you may no longer be able to create medicine. Just like your mother.]
Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind.
Aselin took a deep breath and finally moved her frozen feet forward.
“Your Highness, please let him go.”
Claude tilted his head slightly, meeting her gaze in the air.
Then, as if dropping a frog he had toyed with, he released his grip.
Gasp.
Pierre hit the ground, gasping for air.
Once he caught his breath, he began talking again.
“Y-Your Highness, what did I do to deserve this? This must be a misunderstanding. Whatever Aselin told you, don’t believe that sneaky liar—”
“I can’t stand your filthy mouth. Maybe cutting out your tongue would shut you up?”
Claude frowned and smoothly drew his sword.
As the cold blade pressed under Pierre’s chin, his body froze.
His whole body tensed as if the sword would cut him apart at any moment.
Pierre’s eyes darted, searching for a way out—and then he glanced sideways at Aselin.
That wench really did charm the prince…
How else would he side with her? That clueless country girl, what did she do to wrap Claude around her finger?!
“Y-Your Highness, please forgive what I just said! I misspoke!”
Pierre stammered desperately.
Claude curled his lips into a sly smirk.
He looked perfectly calm, as if he’d already forgotten he’d almost killed Pierre.
“You should apologize to my fiancée, not me. Isn’t that right?”
“…I’m sorry, Aselin. I didn’t mean what I said earlier. Please forgive your brother.”
Still glaring, Pierre forced the words through gritted teeth.
Claude slowly leaned toward him and pressed a large hand on his shoulder.
Pierre buckled under the pressure and fell to his knees.
A cold voice hissed into his ear like a winter wind.
“You dared to speak informally to my fiancée? Disrespecting the future crown princess is the same as disrespecting me. I could cut off your head right now, and no one would question it.”
Pierre turned pale and grabbed his neck in panic.
Then—thud!—he threw himself flat on the ground.
“I-I’m sorry! Future crown princess, I was terribly wrong. Please forgive me!”
His forehead touched the dirt as Aselin’s clear voice rang above his head.
“I’ll run the factory well under the Rondinella name. But if you ever try to take it back or use violence again, it won’t end with just an apology.”
With that, she and Claude walked out of the alley, leaving Pierre flattened like gum on the street.
The fact that he, a man, had to bow to a mere woman burned him with shame. He couldn’t lift his head.
“That damned wench! I should’ve killed her back then! She should’ve died in that carriage!”
Boiling with rage, Pierre slammed the ground in frustration.
Then—
“Tsk tsk, what a pathetic sight, Duke Pierre.”
A voice came from the end of the alley.
Pierre looked up to see Baron Alex strolling in, calm and smug.
He tried to stand but was too weak.
“What are you doing here? Just standing there—help me up, would you?”
But Alex, hands behind his back, only watched him with a mocking smile.
“You’ll have to get up on your own, Duke.”
“You’re looking down on me too, now? We were almost family. Can’t you at least give me a hand?”
Pierre growled.
Alex glanced at the red handprint on Pierre’s neck and smirked meaningfully.
“You must resent Prince Claude deeply. Am I wrong?”
Pierre turned sharply to glare at him.
So he saw everything and just watched?! Rage bubbled inside him.
But he couldn’t argue. Alex was rich and well-connected in the empire.
He clicked his tongue and rubbed his aching legs when Alex continued.
“I do too. I lost my fiancée to the First Prince. How could I not resent him?”
What does a stolen fiancée matter to me? I’m broke and desperate. I don’t have time for love troubles!
Thinking that, Pierre looked away like Alex was an annoying stray dog.
But Alex smiled faintly and said,
“So, Duke Pierre, why don’t we board the same ship?”
