I Don't Need the Grand Duke's Regret - Chapter 163
However, the maid, accustomed to palace life, remained calm in the face of his anger.
“Please return safely, Count.”
“Damn…”
Durante gritted his teeth as the maid disappeared back inside.
As he huffed in frustration, the maid who had been bowing behind him straightened up.
“I told you so. The princess will never listen to the count.”
The gray-haired maid looked at Durante with a scornful gaze and continued,
“I told you to trust me.”
Durante whipped around at the maid’s bold words. He ordered his knights to step back, then whispered sharply.
“Why should I trust you? You promised me that if I met the princess, you’d prove she’s the Grand Duchess, and now you’re trying to push this crazy story?”
“I’m not making it up. Didn’t you see the princess yourself? Didn’t you feel anything odd?”
“Not at all. She might resemble her in the face, but that girl had a grace completely different from her. The princess is the princess.”
Durante didn’t believe the maid’s claims.
The princess of Segolinde being Armilla? That was absurd.
There was no real resemblance between the two. Plus, the Grand Duchess was dead.
They had even held her funeral in Renato. As someone who had attended it, Durante couldn’t believe any story saying Armilla was still alive.
“There are always people who resemble each other. But if I believe your nonsense and make a move, what will you do to make up for it if it blows up in my face?”
“But what if the princess is Armilla?”
Durante’s eyes twitched at the maid’s insinuation. She didn’t miss the opening, quickly pressing on.
“If the princess is Armilla, then the Count will have her weaknesses in your grasp. You’ll have the scandal of her forgetting everything and warming the Grand Duke’s bed. What kind of scandal could be bigger than that?”
“If that’s true… ‘Fairy’s Breath’ will be mine.”
“Of course. And not just ‘Fairy’s Breath.’ If you have the princess’s weakness, Segolinde itself will fall into your hands. I don’t ask for much. All you need to do is make the princess kneel before me. Everything else will be the Count’s.”
As the maid spoke with a soft murmur, Durante’s interest grew.
It was a far-fetched theory, but if it were true, it would be quite enticing.
He had been struggling with the princess refusing to meet him. To get the bulb, he would have to resort to flattery or persuasion, but he couldn’t even meet her to do that.
But if the princess were Armilla, persuasion and flattery wouldn’t be necessary. It would be all about coercion.
‘No. This is too risky.’
After some contemplation, Durante shook his head.
The only evidence he had was the maid’s testimony. He couldn’t trust the words of someone dishonorably cast out from Renato.
Regardless of the truth, if he presented this to the princess now, it would only result in a charge of insulting royalty.
“It’s still not going to work.”
“Count!”
“Quiet! Keep your voice down!”
When the maid attempted to argue, Durante hurriedly covered her mouth and growled at her.
“Don’t just rely on your sharp tongue—where’s the real proof? Stop making things worse and be quiet.”
Bianca furrowed her brows in frustration. She clenched her fists and glared at the door..
‘Armilla is in there!’
Bianca had followed Durante all the way here, clinging to him, even when he ignored her words. Now that she was so close, she couldn’t back down.
‘Other evidence… what do I have? Or a witness? I need someone who can back me up.’
Bianca quickly brainstormed. By now, Durante had moved ahead with his knights, walking down the opposite corridor.
“What are you doing? Aren’t you following me?”
Bianca turned at the voice from behind. And then, as she glanced toward the end of the hallway, she saw a familiar maid rounding the corner.
The maid was smiling as she carried a pile of books in her arms—someone Bianca recognized.
“It’s Luce? Why is she here…?”
As she mumbled to herself, a smile slowly spread across Bianca’s face.
‘As I thought, the heavens are on my side.’
With a wide grin, Bianca ran toward Durante, who had glanced toward the end of the corridor after hearing her whisper. His eyes narrowed as he saw the brown-haired maid.
* * *
Late at night.
Ricardo lay in bed with his eyes closed. After being completely rejected by Mirabel, he had been unable to regain his consciousness.
During the day, he was plagued by an unexplained fever, and at night, he wandered in nightmares.
In his dreams, Ricardo was confronted with his past.
He saw himself treating Armilla roughly, leaving her alone, and locking her in the Red Room.
Ricardo screamed at his past self to stop, but it was useless.
He had to watch in despair as he committed his crimes.
At the end of the dream, Mirabel was always the one to say goodbye.
He woke up when he knelt before her. Covered in sweat.
“…rabel. Huff Mirabel!”
Ricardo muttered her name, opening his eyes. He panted heavily as he sat up.
“Hu, hah, haah…”
Ricardo jumped up quickly, his large body trembling. His unfocused eyes stared into space, and he muttered under his breath.
“…I, I can’t let her go. I can’t.”
I can’t let her go like this. He repeated those words and slowly blinked. He realized belatedly that the time he spent being hated by her had actually been a gift.
He had wanted her to hate him. He had wanted her to tear him down, to criticize and even hit him—but he had wanted her to stay by his side.
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