It was a Political Marriage, But I’m Being Loved - Chapter 69

Charlize may have once had feelings for Valter, but she had never done anything to disgrace the name of the Imperial Family. Though she may have been drawn to him, she had never blindly played the fool for his sake.

Valter let out a bitter laugh. Oscar didn’t respond with anger. After all, Valter’s limbs were barely holding together, and his body was still scorched from severe burns. Oscar wasn’t heartless enough to rage at someone in that state—especially when they were laughing like that.

“And now you ask me why?” Valter said, lifting his chin and staring at Oscar. “Your Highness, I swear, I’ve been wronged. I didn’t do this.”

They had known each other a long time. Oscar knew exactly what kind of man Valter was—one who could lie without blinking.

“You truly didn’t expect it would come to this? The Tower Lord is someone even His Majesty respects. The Emperor places great importance on this marriage.”

The Emperor had spent years trying to bring the Tower Lord into the Empire’s grasp—a mage powerful enough that even dragons would hesitate to face him. It wasn’t love for Charlize that led to this arranged marriage, but the unmatched value the Tower Lord brought to the Empire.

Valter could tell: Oscar didn’t believe a single word he said. He never had. Not once had Oscar fallen for Valter’s lies.

With a wearied expression, Valter asked quietly, “Does Her Highness… know what happened to me?”

He recalled what Achilles had said—that he had received permission from the Princess herself to kill him. Valter had never believed it. He needed to see Charlize. Only she could make sense of this.

“She needs to know? She’s getting married and leaving for the Tower soon.”

So she didn’t know.

That alone convinced Valter that Achilles had lied. Charlize would never abandon him like this. If she knew what had happened, she would throw everything aside—even the marriage—and go to the Emperor herself, begging for his life.

That was the Charlize Valter knew.

“Please… Let me see Her Highness. If you grant me that, I’ll tell you everything I know.”

Oscar responded in a cool, unyielding voice.

“Speak first. Then I’ll consider telling her.”

Valter frowned. “Forgive me, but… how can I speak, when I know you won’t believe a word I say?”

Oscar’s gaze remained unmoved. “We’ve known each other a long time, Viscount.”

He stared at Valter with flat, indifferent eyes—ones devoid of any sympathy. Valter suddenly wondered if Oscar had seen this coming all along.

“…She and I both know the look on your face when you lie.”

Valter didn’t flinch. He simply raised an eyebrow slightly. His eyes still held defiance, but Oscar felt no anger stirring within him.

Perhaps because he knew—whatever tricks Valter tried, he wouldn’t escape a death sentence. And Duke Bianchi would likely share that fate.

Even if by some miracle they were spared, the family would lose everything. His mother would be stripped of her status, exiled, or imprisoned in a tower for the rest of her life.

“You really think she’ll save you?” Oscar asked, his voice like ice. “You think she’d ruin an imperial marriage—risk her entire future—for you? Viscount Bianchi… Yes, she has a soft heart for those she cares about. But she is not foolish. She is sharp. Clever.”

“……”

“That you never realized this… surprises me. Or maybe you just didn’t care to. Either way… it’s a shame you chose treason.”

“Treason? That’s absurd!”

Valter raised his voice sharply. He reacted instinctively—not out of denial, but because he fully understood what being labeled a traitor meant. Yes, he had sent knights to capture the Princess, but it wasn’t like he had raised an army. To call that treason felt like an overreach.

But Oscar had no desire to explain anything. What stunned him more than Valter’s outrage was his arrogance—the way he defied the Imperial Family yet still believed it wasn’t treason.

“The person who accused you claimed you murdered your own subordinate to frame the Tower Lord,” Oscar said flatly. “And not long after that chaos, someone tried to assassinate me.”

“Your Highness, I don’t know what you’ve been led to believe, but I swear—I’ve been framed.”

“That happened barely a month ago. If you had even a shred of loyalty toward the Imperial Family, you wouldn’t have done something so reckless now, of all times.”

This time, Valter didn’t bother insisting on his innocence. He just stared back in silence, meeting Oscar’s gaze with defiance.

Oscar looked down at him, his face expressionless.

In the past, Valter had always stood taller—Oscar would have had to look up at him. But not now. Valter was too injured to even sit up without help.

“The Imperial Family already suspects House Bianchi,” Oscar said. “You dug this hole yourself. If you can crawl out of it, I’ll be the first to acknowledge it. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted—my recognition?”

With those final words, Oscar turned to the guard and motioned for the cell door to be opened. Then, without looking back, he left the dungeon.

Valter’s eyes followed him all the way out, burning with hatred.

If only that man had died that day… none of this would be happening.

Oscar could practically feel the venom in that stare—and he couldn’t help but let out a small, bitter scoff.

Valter Bianchi was no longer the irritating childhood friend of his sister. He was just an enemy now.

Charlize stood on the balcony of the Princess’s palace, still cradled in Achilles’ arms. Below, handmaids and royal guards bowed in greeting.

“Their Majesties are waiting for you.”

“Really?” Charlize asked quietly.

She wasn’t exactly thrilled to face them right away, but they had flown into the capital in plain sight. The palace guards would have seen them, and word would’ve already reached the court. Achilles had also contacted the palace using a crystal orb before they arrived.

There was no avoiding it. Besides, Charlize realized she missed her parents—even if just a little. So, with Achilles at her side, she moved forward without hesitation.

Since they had landed at her personal residence rather than the main palace, they needed to take a carriage to the throne hall. As she stepped down, Charlize quickly checked her appearance.

The flight had taken more than an hour. Even in Achilles’ arms, it wouldn’t be strange if her clothes were wrinkled. But with a flick of his hand, Achilles cast a spell—and just like that, her outfit was smooth and perfect again.

“There’s a spell for that?” she asked, her eyes shining with curiosity.

“There are far stranger spells than this,” Achilles replied coolly.

He didn’t say it aloud, but it was one of those little tricks lazy mages liked to use. Charlize, smiling faintly, took his arm and walked with him into the palace.

“Lize!”

The Empress rose from her seat the moment she saw her daughter and rushed to embrace her. She held Charlize tightly, and Charlize hugged her back just as fiercely.

“They told me you were safe, but I couldn’t breathe until I saw you. Are you hurt anywhere?”

She held back the comment about her daughter’s slight limp. It was obvious who was responsible for that. The Emperor might not have noticed, but the Empress was certain: the Tower Lord had taken the Princess into his bed.

“I’m fine. Really. Not even a scratch,” Charlize said softly.

She didn’t mention using magic herself. That would come out later—during the interrogation of Lewein and his men. They hadn’t arrived yet. Moving that many prisoners at once was difficult, so they were being transported in supply wagons.

Achilles could’ve teleported them all, but he hadn’t wanted to waste his energy on it. Giel was likely managing the transfer in his place.

“Tower Lord! I heard you saved the village—and protected the Princess, too!”

The Emperor welcomed Achilles with a pleased voice. But Achilles didn’t see it as something worth praise. If he had been with Charlize from the start, none of it would’ve happened. The only thing he felt was guilt—for not being there when she needed him.

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