It was a Political Marriage, But I’m Being Loved - Chapter 45

It was Achilles who had swayed even the Emperor to make this marriage happen. Valter believed that someone like Charlize was already dancing in the palm of Achilles’s hand.

“That’s why he injured one of the knights to force them to open the gates. If not for that, Achilles would never have allowed me to even step foot inside this fortress!”

The knight in question was the same man who had once recommended “that knight” from the Crown Prince’s guard during a previous mission. In truth, the failure back then wasn’t due to poor selection but rather because Achilles’s abilities were far superior. Still, Valter blamed the knight and chose him to play the role of the wounded this time.

The man had already been moved to the mansion and laid on one of the servants’ beds. Since the fortress was maintained with only a minimal staff, there were plenty of unused rooms. Valter’s party had already provided emergency treatment. There was no official physician within the fortress.

Following them into the mansion, Valter removed his gloves and glared at the sub-baron, who was acting as the butler, as he asked coldly:

“Is the Master of the Tower so heartless that he won’t even come out when someone is injured?”

“If the wounds are that serious, wouldn’t it be wiser to go down to the village? We don’t have a physician here.”

“Didn’t the Tower Master once use magic to treat the Crown Prince himself? A life is at stake here—how can he be this indifferent?”

The sub-baron, who had earned his title through military service, had seen far worse injuries before. He knew the Duke of Bianchi was simply picking a fight.

“He appears to have a stab wound… With the high-grade potions kept in the fortress, his condition should improve.”

Since it was clear that Valter’s party would also carry such supplies, the sub-baron thought the Duke of Bianchi was just trying to stir up trouble.

If Valter had come chasing after the princess out of unrequited love on her honeymoon, perhaps the sub-baron might have pitied him—but that wasn’t the case.

Years ago, when the princess had visited the fortress with her friends and brought the Duke of Bianchi along, she had ended up watching his back as he rode off with another noblewoman.

After that trip, she never returned. The sub-baron and the rest of the staff had lived in quiet dread, fearing she might decide to give up the estate altogether.

Their resentment toward the Duke of Bianchi was only natural. It was his cold behavior during that visit that had made the princess dislike this place in the first place.

“You really won’t listen, will you? Where is the Tower Master?”

Valter didn’t actually care about seeing Achilles’s face. What he really believed was that Charlize must be with him—and he had to find her.

Though he spoke as if he was worried about the knight, Valter didn’t even glance toward the servants’ quarters. Instead, he wandered through the mansion’s halls. As expected, the sub-baron followed him closely.

“You’re not allowed to roam freely like this.”

Valter knew that no one in this fortress had the authority to stop him. Aside from the princess and the Tower Master, the sub-baron—who also served as the butler—held the highest rank here. That was telling enough.

“Your mistake was trying to control the princess by leaving behind her attendants.”

He remembered the last time he visited this place. The Crown Prince had been there too, along with several noble ladies and gentlemen.

“Charlize’s bedchamber was… that one.”

As he moved through the corridors, Valter’s eyes landed on a hallway where an attendant stood in front of a door. The sub-baron rushed to block him, but Valter shoved him aside and strode toward the sitting room.

“Achilles?”

Charlize had made the decision not to greet Valter herself. She couldn’t understand how he had the nerve to come all the way here.

It was offensive—an act that dismissed her completely. She was a princess, and he was merely the Duke of Bianchi.

So she decided to return the disrespect with silence. She refused to acknowledge him.

Sitting beside Achilles, she had just asked for tea and was speaking with him when Achilles suddenly turned his gaze toward the door.

BANG!

The door burst open without warning, but no one was surprised. Achilles, now a master of magic, could sense the presence of someone as powerful as a Sword Master.

Charlize, noticing his sudden reaction, sensed that someone was standing just beyond the door.

When Valter abruptly stormed into the room, she was absolutely furious.

“How dare you! Duke of Bianchi! Do you even realize where you are, barging in like this?!”

For Valter, this was a rare experience. Even when he had insulted her before—leaving with another noblewoman or acting rudely in public—Charlize had always turned a blind eye.

Of course, over their long friendship, they had argued now and then. But never once had Charlize pulled rank on him.

Especially not when their tensions came from personal or romantic matters.

Though it only lasted a moment, Valter felt a rush of anger flood his face. To make things worse, Charlize wasn’t just sitting across from Achilles—they were shoulder to shoulder.

“So, it seems I interrupted a pleasant moment.”

Valter entered the room, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Charlize was speechless at how unbothered he seemed, even after barging in.

“Did you perhaps bring my brother or Their Majesties with you?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You barge into my room without permission, and now you speak without being granted leave to do so? How can one man be so arrogantly disrespectful?”

Unless he had come to deliver a message on behalf of her brother, the Emperor, or the Empress, Valter had absolutely no right to behave this way. His expression turned fierce, but Charlize didn’t flinch.

She had once looked at him with fondness—because she liked him.

But now?

Now that she’d finally met someone who matched her heart, someone with whom she was in a successful relationship, seeing her former one-sided love show up and throw a tantrum made her feel sick.

“Is this bastard seriously the one who hurt Oscar?”

She had assumed it couldn’t be—Valter was supposed to be the male lead of this story. But seeing how he now followed only her, as if the scandal with Rebecca never happened, made her doubt whether he truly was.

Valter, seeing Charlize get even angrier instead of backing down at his own rage, felt a strange mix of embarrassment and frustration building in his chest.

There was no point in escalating this further—it wouldn’t end well for him. Swallowing his pride, Valter lowered his gaze and softened his sharp expression.

“I deeply regret my rudeness, Your Highness. I acted out of concern for your well-being. Please forgive me.”

His voice was calm and subdued, but Charlize’s gaze remained cold. Seeing Valter disregard her royal authority in front of Achilles disgusted her.

She wanted to throw him out immediately—but he had brought an injured man with him. Besides, after what happened last time, she knew they needed to talk at least once—
Not about the attempted assassination of the Crown Prince, but about that night when he came to her chamber.

After a brief pause, Charlize looked at Achilles.

“Would you mind waiting elsewhere for a bit? I have something to discuss with the Duke of Bianchi.”

Achilles glanced at Valter briefly, then returned his gaze to her.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“I will.”

There were two automaton guards standing silently near the wall inside the drawing room. Valter wouldn’t dare step out of line, and even if he did, they were there to stop him.

Achilles stood, then knelt on one knee before Charlize and gently pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

“I won’t go far.”

Ridiculous.

Valter’s eyes narrowed as he watched Achilles step away from the table. Achilles, too, glared at Valter with sharp intensity.

As he passed by, Achilles whispered under his breath:

“What I said last time… that wasn’t a warning.”

But even in the face of Achilles’s piercing glare, Valter brushed it off and turned to face Charlize. As soon as the door clicked shut behind the Tower Master, Valter moved to approach the table.

“Stay right there. Your disrespect is getting out of hand. You approach a royal without permission—what kind of etiquette is that?”

Charlize’s voice was sharp with irritation, and Valter’s expression hardened. His gaze cut through her, sharp and unflinching.

“So the Tower Master managed to win her over in just a week, huh?”

No wonder she followed him so obediently all the way to this remote fortress. He had practically kidnapped her with magic—how could she have had a chance to resist?

“I was concerned that, in your haste, you might not have brought your attendants from the capital. So I brought my own from my estate to serve you. I hope this will ease your mind.”

Charlize felt overwhelmed—layer upon layer of frustration. If he had brought them on the Empress’s orders, she might have understood. But they were from House Bianchi!

She was about to marry another man. How could she accept the service of her former crush’s employees? Just imagining them reporting back to Valter about her every move made her skin crawl.

“I never realized you were so tone-deaf, Your Grace. I don’t need them. Let them stay tonight, but take them all back with you tomorrow.”

“But Your Highness, isn’t there no one in this fortress suitable to attend to you?”

As he said this, Valter scanned her up and down—her hair, her attire—there wasn’t a single flaw to be found.

“Who would’ve thought some maid in a remote fortress could do such a decent job?”

In truth, it had been Achilles—and his magic—who had attended to her. But Valter didn’t know that.

“That is none of your concern, Your Grace.”

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