Chapter 92: 92 — What If I Refuse?

"Ah! Actually, Your Highness... I’ve been wanting to ask you something," Arisia hesitated before continuing. "How’s your relationship going with bro— I mean His Highness?"

Cynthia looked at her, a frown formed on her face, puzzled by her unexpected question.

"Uhm... why do you ask?" She wiped off the frown from her expression, forcing a smile.

"... I was just asking." She slightly averted her eyes. She couldn’t say that she had been observing their cold and distant relationship during her stay at the mansion. Rather, it would have been peculiar for her to not notice.

And the servants keep talking about it all through the mansion. Does Her Highness not know about this?

Arisia pondered, her gaze shifting back on the lady sitting before her, with a straight and flawless posture.

She is elegant as a princess should be...

Arisia snapped out of her thoughts once she heard Cynthia let out a soft chuckle, clearly uncomfortable. It was the first time she had seen Cynthia uneasy. Perhaps, anything related to Lucian broke her usual composure, making her show more emotion compared to her always smiling complexion.

"I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped, but... I saw His Highness looking at you the other night, during the celebration," she hesitated, feeling as if she were revealing a secret.

Cynthia’s eyes widened, her breath catching. "Looking at me?" she whispered, as if she couldn’t believe it.

Arisia nodded softly.

"When we were heading to the terrace. I’m certain his gaze was locked on you."

Cynthia chuckled, shaking her head. There was no way that could be true.

"You don’t believe me, do you?"

"It isn’t that... His Highness was probably looking elsewhere."

He would rather die than look at me.

Cynthia mused, keeping these thoughts to herself. She didn’t want to reveal the cold relationship between her and her husband even if the person asking about it was someone who was to die soon.

"Do you want to take this book with you?" She asked, changing the topic.

Arisia, who understood the grand duchess no longer wanted to speak about this, smiled softly.

"As long as the king’s gaze doesn’t fall on this book," she chuckled.

"Selvarys sure is strict on a princess," Cynthia whispered, taking a sip of her tea.

***

Surrounded by books on the floor and bookshelves, Cynthia was seated on the ground, one book wide open in her hands.

Her concentration was interrupted once she heard the library’s door creak open.

She lifted her gaze up, a clear frown of irritation on her face.

Seeing Philip, she relaxed her eyebrows, curling her lips into a smile.

"What brings you here?"

"I have been looking for you, Your Highness," Philip bowed.

"Is that so?" Cynthia’s gaze scanned the middle-aged man, noticing the envelope he held in his hand. "What is that in your hand?"

"Oh, this..." the man hesitated before extending the white paper to the young lady seated on the ground.

He was no longer surprised whenever he saw her sitting on the floor. It was perhaps the only flaw he had found in this ’perfect duchess’.

When he first saw her in this state, he panicked. It was as if his heart would come out any second, however, once she said, "Philip. Not everyone loves being a noble. Sometimes, they also want to experience the things commoners do. As a commoner, should you not support such a noble, instead of trying to stop them from behaving in such a manner? And you surely know that this is not such a big matter as you made it seem."

Hearing her say so, he decided to accept the fact that perhaps she simply wasn’t an arrogant lady as the rumours. She wished to understand others for the better, with no ill intentions.

Feeling the envelope brush against his skin, the middle-aged man snapped back to reality.

"Is this for me?" Cynthia chuckled, as if Philip would mistakenly hand her an envelope meant for someone else.

"It’s for His Highness," he clarified.

Cynthia’s smile faded at his words.

"Why are you giving it to me? Shouldn’t he receive it directly?" she demanded, raising her eyebrows slightly.

"Well... it’s from Eldoria."

"Eldoria?" Cynthia whispered, a spark of curiosity igniting. Why would Lucian receive a letter from Eldoria?

"Has Eldoria made any recent deals with Erion?"

"I’m not aware, Your Highness..."

"You may go. I’ll look into it myself," Cynthia said, leaning her head back against the bookshelf, dismissing the butler.

With a respectful nod, the elderly man bowed and exited the library.

As soon as the door closed, Cynthia examined the envelope carefully, ensuring it wasn’t coated with any dangerous substances, like poisoned perfume or inflammable chemicals. Once she was certain it was safe, she opened it.

I shouldn’t be doing this... But I need to know what kind of connection His Highness might have with Eldoria to warrant a letter.

Under normal circumstances, receiving letters from other kingdoms wasn’t unusual; however, it was different when that kingdom happened to be the one Selvarys had been at war with for decades.

She pulled the paper from the envelope and began reading. After a few sentences, she recognized the sender—Duke Ramsel.

He was inviting Lucian to attend King Alistair’s wedding, scheduled to take place in less than a month.

[I believe my niece— I mean, Princess Cynthia, hasn’t mentioned the wedding to you yet, so I’d like to inform you in her stead.]

A wave of anger surged through Cynthia at his words. What did this man think of himself?

His niece... Princess Cynthia? I am now the grand duchess...

Though several curses sprang to mind, she kept them to herself. He wasn’t worth her anger—at least not yet.

Standing up, Cynthia replaced the book that had been resting on her lap onto the shelf. She gazed at the floor, exhaling a soft sigh.

"It seems the servants will be inconvenienced once again..."

Normally, she’d rearrange the books herself, but today she couldn’t. She needed to see Lucian right away—or else Duke Ramsel might start sending him letter after letter.

And who knows what bullshit that snake might utter in his letters!

The letter clenched in her fist, Cynthia stormed out of the library. She passed through the servants who were in the hallway as if only a strong wind blew their way. They could barely notice the grand duchess’ figure passing.

"It seems the grand duchess is upset about something..."

"She looks scary when she’s mad..."

"Why are you scared? She never hurt us, did she?"

"Get back to work!"

"Yes..."

"Yes..."

***

Once she arrived in front of Lucian’s bedroom, Cynthia glanced down at the letter in her hand. The paper was now crumpled and wrinkled beyond recognition.

"Ah..." she sighed softly.

Just as she was about to turn and leave, the door opened, as though her presence had been sensed.

"You..." Lucian began, pausing briefly before stepping aside. "Come in."

"I—" Cynthia hesitated, pursing her lips, still unsure where they stood. Their interactions were a constant cycle: arguing one moment, speaking civilly the next, only to fall back into conflict. It was a never-ending loop.

Reluctantly, Cynthia entered the room. She needed to discuss her brother’s wedding with Lucian—today or eventually, there was no avoiding it.

Once inside, Cynthia sat on the couch while Lucian took the seat opposite her.

"What brings you here?" he asked, his tone as cold as ever, making her feel as though last night’s conversation had disappeared with the dawn.

"My brother is getting married, and he wants us to attend," she replied.

"You can go, of course. He is your brother," Lucian replied dismissively, crossing his arms as if the matter held no significance for him.

"Your Highness... he specifically wants us—both you and me—to attend," Cynthia repeated, a hint of irritation slipping into her voice.

"Does it make a difference?"

Cynthia narrowed her eyes at his question, confused yet irritated. Was he an idiot? There was no way he didn’t know the meaning behind her words. He was doing this on purpose!

"Attend the wedding with me," she managed to say under her breath which seemed to quicken due to her surging anger.

"What if I refuse?"

"If you don’t wish for another war, this is the best way to make sure everyone knows the alliance between the kingdoms are not at risk of breaking. As you might know, there were still a lot of people against this. Be it in Selvarys or Eldoria. As the subjects of both kingdoms, it is our duty to ensure the safety of our people—"

"You speak as if you know everything related to diplomacy, Your Highness," Lucian’s remark interrupted Cynthia in the middle of her sentence.

Cynthia closed her mouth, her lips parting as if she were about to speak, only to press them shut again in hesitation. Words failed her. What could she say? She couldn’t admit that she was the one who had meticulously calculated every possibility before accepting this marriage a second time, knowing fully what it might entail.

After all, who would willingly step back into such a hellish situation without exhausting every possible outcome?

Lucian’s presence at that wedding was crucial—she needed him there, no matter the cost. She couldn’t let him know that her carefully crafted words were meant solely to persuade him, each one a strategic choice, devoid of true feeling. In Eldoria, most people sighed in relief at the war’s end, indifferent to the princess sold away for peace, their concern fading as soon as their own security was assured.

"I am— was a princess, Your Highness," Cynthia simply responded her softer tone from earlier turning as cold as the man who sat before her.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by Aunomay Read