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    Read Translated Novels By Prizma

    It wasn’t until late that evening that Lorena, practically confined to her bedroom, was finally allowed to see her husband.

    The moment she saw Vaye, the composure she had struggled to maintain crumbled.

    “This is… this is a false accusation.”

    Before her husband could even hand over his hat to the waiting servant, Lorena grabbed onto his collar, overwhelmed by fear and anxiety.

    “You know this, don’t you? You know how honest my father is, how upright he’s always been! He’s never coveted the treasury of Bessen, and he’s never betrayed you! I swear it!”

    The strong scent of wet rain and gunpowder clung to her husband’s clothes.

    Vaye glanced briefly at her trembling fingers before speaking with cold detachment.

    “Samuel, fetch the physician. Have him administer a sedative. I warned you not to push her too hard, but it seems her condition is worse than I thought.”

    “I don’t need it, Vaye. I’m perfectly fine!”

    “You don’t look fine. And soon, you’ll be glad you took it.”

    Vaye motioned toward the drawing room with an icy command.

    “Let go of me and sit on the sofa, Lorena.”

    ‘How can he be so calm?’

    Lorena found herself terrified of him.

    Her father and she were both being framed as spies, facing the possibility of execution, and yet…?

    “Please, tell me what evidence they claim to have. What secrets is my father accused of stealing?”

    “There’s been evidence for a while,” Vaye responded coolly. “Ever since your father began loudly promoting Ingerd’s railway investments. Just yesterday, he tried to persuade me to buy Ingerd’s government bonds.”

    Lorena’s eyes went blank for a moment. The cold gaze, the cynical tone—everything he was saying hit her like a shockwave.

    “Are you… suspecting my father? Just because of that?”

    “Perhaps.”

    “My father is a banker. He reads the flow of money. It has nothing to do with political maneuvering!”

    Since the fall of the corrupt monarchy and the establishment of the republic, Ingerd’s economy had improved dramatically, even surpassing pre-war levels.

    [Ingerd is about to issue 6 billion Larc in bonds. It’s likely to pay off the remainder of their war reparations.]

    [6 billion Larc? Does the Ingerd Republic have the means to repay such a debt?]

    [They’ll repay it. Ingerd’s granary feeds the entire Ugonia continent. Even Bessen imports all its wheat and barley from there. They’ll pay it back easily within a few years.]

    Her father had confidently stated that the risk of Ingerd’s bonds was minimal, and that even Bessen’s great nobles were showing interest, seeing it as a good opportunity for both sides.

    Lorena had trusted her father’s words, even staking her life on them, believing that was all there was to his support for Ingerd.

    But it wasn’t nearly enough to convince her husband.

    “Here’s the thing, Lorena.”

    Vaye said, clicking his tongue, effortlessly releasing her grip on his collar.

    “I don’t need money. You misunderstand.”

    “What…?”

    “I can’t allow Ingerd’s influence to grow in Bessen. Didn’t you yourself say to be cautious when the royal family’s position is shaky?”

    It suddenly hit Lorena, a quiet, dawning realization.

    ‘Could it be… was it a mistake to even mention Ingerd? Or was it simply because the Kleins are from Ingerd?’

    “So… this is your idea of caution? You reported my father?”

    “Let’s be clear: I didn’t report Vicenzo Klein.”

    “Then who did?”

    “His investors.”

    “But why…?”

    “Your father pretended to be close with Bessen’s nobles while prying into the royal family’s affairs. He’s openly supported the republic on numerous occasions. That’s more than enough reason for his arrest.”

    Lorena knew how much Bessen’s nobility and upper classes feared the revolution that had taken place in neighboring Ingerd. To them, revolution was nothing more than a dangerous, subversive ideology. But still!

    “You know that wasn’t his true intent! That’s why you married me, an Ingerdian! Because you trusted my father!”

    The union between the Levantes family and the Klein Bank was supposed to be unbreakable, built on mutual trust.

    “If you would just defend my father, this could all be dismissed as a misunderstanding…”

    “And why would I do that?”

    “Because he’s my father…!”

    Lorena’s voice cracked with desperation.

    ‘Because he’s your wife’s father. And we’re family!’

    But Vaye Levantes coldly crushed her last shred of hope.

    “So what if he’s your father?”

    His chilling, blood-red eyes made Lorena fall silent, her throat tightening.

    “As you said yourself, our relationship is based entirely on trust. That’s all there is to it.”

    It hit her with full force: Vaye Levantes had never truly considered her his wife.

    Lorena’s voice faltered, broken.

    “Then… what do you think of me?”

    She asked, her voice trembling as the tears she had held back for so long finally broke free. From the moment she had encountered Olivia Quintana, from the past seven years of accumulated sorrow and frustration, it all poured out at once.

    “I’ve always wanted to ask… why do you deny me everything?”

    Her duties as Duchess, her role in managing the estate, her participation in social circles, even the chance to bear a child.

    Lorena was not infertile. The reason she hadn’t conceived was entirely Vaye’s doing. He had lain with her every month without fail, but had never allowed a single seed to take root.

    “I thought… you didn’t acknowledge me as your wife.”

    She had always thought she wasn’t fit to be the Duchess of Levantes, that he was reluctant to have an heir with her because she wasn’t worthy. She had busied herself with self-criticism, never daring to confront him. But now, it was clear she had misunderstood everything.

    “So, all of this… was just to cleanly discard me? Me and my father, so you could cut us off without any loose ends…?”

    “Calm down, Lorena.”

    Vaye warned, narrowing his eyes as he noticed her beginning to hyperventilate. The physician rushed into the room, his face tense.

    Lorena swatted away the physician’s attempt to inject a sedative and knelt before her husband. She had no pride left to protect.

    “Please, please save us.”

    “…”

    “Just give me a chance to talk to my father. I’ll find a way to fix this.”

    Her father, Vicenzo Klein, was supposed to visit today. Gifts Lorena had excitedly picked out for him, in anticipation of seeing him for the first time in three years, still lay untouched in the drawing room.

    “Defend my father. You can do it—anything you want, I’ll do it. If you’d rather, send me in his place. I’ll turn myself in, tell the investors that it was all my doing, and have them accuse me instead of him!”

    “…Turn yourself in?”

    Vaye’s eyelids lowered ever so slightly. His blood-colored, violet eyes scanned her tear-streaked face slowly.

    Incredibly, he looked as though he was contemplating judgment, like a judge pondering the fate of the guilty.

    Vaye reached out and gently caressed her tear-stained cheek. Had seeing her cry—a sight so rare in their seven years together—stirred something within him?

    “Lorena.”

    When he spoke her name, she instinctively knew he had made a decision.

    His once emotionless purple eyes had softened, and the chilling atmosphere around him eased, as though the blade of ice had been sheathed. He even wore what seemed to be a faint smile.

    “You still misunderstand.”

    “W-what do you mean…?”

    “I have no intention of handing my wife over to those filthy vermin.”

    Vaye cupped her chin and kissed her. Lorena’s breath faltered.

    His tongue invaded her parted lips, searing hot. He caressed her trembling tongue with a gentle yet possessive motion, drawing her into a deep kiss that was strangely tender.

    Lorena was caught in an awkward half-kneeling, half-standing position, unable to fully respond to the kiss, her mind a whirlwind of confusion.

    [My wife…]

    ‘Does he really mean that?’

    The physician quickly tied a tourniquet around her slender arm and injected the sedative. Lorena’s erratic breathing gradually slowed as the drug took effect.

    The kiss lingered, and Vaye’s strong arm wrapped around her now-relaxed body.

    It was a kiss unlike any they had shared before—deeper than the occasional ones they exchanged in the privacy of their bedroom. When it finally ended, Vaye gently stroked her cheek and whispered.

    “Go to Soto Monastery.”

    “Soto…?”

    “Wait for me there until I come.”

    Near the temple of Soto was Bessen’s only cloistered monastery. Telling her to stay there implied that he would handle everything, including the crisis that threatened her.

    Lorena nodded frantically, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief. She threw her arms around his neck, desperate to hold on.

    “Vaye, don’t abandon my father.”

    “I won’t.”

    “Promise… please…”

    The scent of oak clung to him. It was the same fragrance that had drawn her to him as a young girl.

    She remembered that smell from the day they first met, from their second encounter when he proposed out of the blue, from their wedding day on her birthday, from the chaotic consummation of their marriage, and throughout the seven years that followed.

    It was the scent of the man who had filled her life.

    With a trembling voice, Lorena whispered.

    “I love you.”

    It was the first time in seven years she had dared to say those words out loud.

    She had always felt too insignificant to love a man as great as him, a man even kings and popes found intimidating. It felt ridiculous to love a man who met a new woman each year. She had thought herself foolish for harboring such feelings.

    For all those reasons, she had buried her emotions deep inside her heart. But now, they flowed out desperately.

    “Don’t leave me alone. I… I’m scared. Since marrying you and coming to Bessen, everything has frightened me. I’ve tried not to be afraid, but right now…”

    It was more terrifying than when she had been thrown into a society that resented and hated her, unable to speak a word of Bessen’s language.

    [My dear princess, if you ever need me, just send a telegram, okay?]

    What had become of her father?

    Above her, Vaye let out a quiet laugh.

    “I’ll visit you once a month. At worst, every other month.”

    “Promise me…”

    “I promise.”

    Vaye cupped her tear-soaked cheeks in both hands, looking down at her small, tear-streaked face as if examining a fragile piece of art. Then, he kissed her once more.

    “When I come, make sure to greet me with tears like this, Lorena.”

    His response wasn’t a cold sneer or a harsh rejection, and for that, she felt reassured. But in hindsight, it was a strange thing to say.

    At the time, Lorena didn’t realize it.

    She didn’t realize that Vaye Levantes had never answered her question about whether he had used her.

    And she didn’t know that her father, Vicenzo Klein, was already dead.

     

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