The Young Male Protagonist Who is Destined for Ruin Fell for Me - Chapter 85

The people in the hall naturally turned their heads toward the commotion. It looked almost as if a war had broken out, with an overwhelming number of guards surrounding Amelia Diane.

Chaeild quickly rushed to her side, and Count Diane, unfazed, swung his blade, unleashing a terrifying sword aura that wiped out the enemies in an instant.

“What’s going on? Are we under attack from an enemy nation?”

“Is this a bombing?”

“Judging by the scale, it looks more like a coup…”

Listening to the murmurs from the terrace, Amelia cooled her face with the back of her hand and stepped back into the hall.

Rather than enduring the overprotectiveness of three people, she figured she would be better off with just Vanessa hovering over her. Keeping her head down, she walked forward—only to see a pair of shoes stop in her path.

Her internal disaster radar instantly went off, signaling danger. A wave of unease washed over her as she lifted her gaze.

“Gasp…!”

“I had no intention of startling you, my lady. My apologies.”

The man she had been so desperately trying to avoid was standing before her, expressing regret—completely unaware that his mere presence was a threat to her.

Itar de Traihar. The third prince of Traihar. One of the two leading forces of destruction in the story, alongside Chaeild. And now, he was standing right in front of her.

Oh, for the love of…!

His piercing blue eyes fixated on her. Unlike in Keltman, where she could slip away unnoticed, her status was now on full display—there was no running this time.

Vanessa, too, couldn’t recklessly intervene and block the approach of a foreign prince.

Only one person could do that.

“I wasn’t expecting the third prince of Traihar to grace my fiancée with such attention.”

Chaeild’s arm wrapped around Amelia’s shoulder as he spoke. His tone was polite, even gentle, but the aura radiating from him was anything but.

Itar found himself letting out a small chuckle. The way Chaeild exuded silent dominance felt like a predator warning another to stay away from its territory.

“It’s been a while, Duke Chaeild. My father asked me to extend his gratitude to you. Without Chaeild’s shipbuilding technology, we wouldn’t have been able to transport silver to the empire.”

“This colonial venture is a testament to Traihar’s exceptional navigation skills.”

“I appreciate you saying that.”

Itar maintained his polite smile but finally shifted his gaze toward Amelia. She was even more beautiful up close.

Now, he understood why the fearsome duke shielded her so fiercely. Why the once-ruthless beast of Chaeild had seemingly become human.

“Would you introduce me to your fiancée?”

“…Amelia Diane. As of today, His Majesty has granted her a title. She is no longer Lady Diane but Count Diane.”

“Count Diane. It is an honor to meet Chaeild’s fiancée.”

Itar extended his hand toward her. Assuming he merely wanted a handshake, Amelia hesitated briefly before lightly grasping his hand.

But Itar wasn’t satisfied with just a handshake. Holding her hand gently, he brought it to his lips and placed a kiss on the back of it.

Her soft fingers twitched slightly. When she lifted her head, her face was a picture of barely concealed shock.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Count Diane.”

“…Likewise.”

Amelia barely managed to squeeze out a response. As Itar turned away, he suddenly paused, as if something had just occurred to him.

“You remind me of my younger sister.”

“…!”

Amelia stood frozen, watching his retreating figure in stunned silence. She knew exactly what had happened to Itar’s younger sister, Iana.

And she knew that her death was what had driven him into madness and destruction.

You’ve got to be kidding me. That was a death flag if I’ve ever heard one.

A headache forming, she leaned into Chaeild. He held her steady, his brows furrowing slightly as he noticed something.

“Your bracelet… The color has changed. What kind of magic has been cast on it?”

＊＊＊

Berd, wanting to avoid spending too much time at a banquet with Duke Chaeild, had opted for a short nap in his quarters. But now, he bolted upright.

The report that had just reached him claimed that Chaeild had mobilized an excessive number of guards—enough to make one believe he was staging a coup.

“What did Duke Chaeild say about it?”

“He claimed it was for his fiancée’s protection. Count Diane said the same, stating it was for his daughter’s safety.”

“Wait, even Count Diane was involved? Was Lady Diane nearly assassinated?”

“It appears that someone targeted her and summoned monsters. We are still gathering details and will report back shortly.”

Berd decided he needed to see the situation for himself. What exactly had happened to cause such a massive uproar?

Of course, part of his motivation was to make a show of taking action—to earn favor with Duke Chaeild.

He quickened his already brisk pace. Dressed in comfortable clothes after loosening his formal attire for his nap, he moved swiftly.

“The investigators have been dispatched, right? When was Nadia summoned? Why isn’t she here yet? We need to get a full—ugh!”

Rounding a corner in haste, Berd collided head-on with someone, nearly toppling to the ground.

Though he had been the one to bump into her, the woman before him hadn’t even staggered. Berd, feeling a sting to his pride, quickly looked up at her face—only to part his lips in surprise.

“Ah…”

Her long, ash-brown hair cascaded like a curtain at dawn, swaying lightly with her movement. Her gray eyes gleamed sharply, reminiscent of a howling wolf’s gaze.

A beauty who seemed capable of devouring anyone who met her eyes. Yet, men would undoubtedly compete to become her willing prey. Berd hurriedly composed himself, clearing his throat.

“Ahem… Which noble family do you belong to, my lady?”

“My lady? That’s quite the joke.”

Her clear, steady voice brushed against his ears like a lingering whisper. Completely captivated, Berd found himself gaping like a fish out of water.

“If you’ll excuse me, Your Majesty.”

“Wait, where are you rushing off to?”

“I heard that Sir Persh Diane has drawn his sword. I wish to witness his swordsmanship with my own eyes.”

“I— I see. Then, perhaps we could have tea some other ti—”

Before he could finish, she disappeared without a trace, making it abundantly clear that she had no intention of sharing so much as a sip of tea with him.

Still dazed, Berd stared after her retreating figure until Nadia came rushing over.

“Your Majesty! You sent a messenger to summon me urgently, yet here you are, wasting time chatting with your fiancée?”

“My fiancée?”

“Yes. Weren’t you just speaking with Princess Lien?”

“Th-That beauty was Princess Lien?”

“You didn’t even check her portrait? Even if Duke Chaeild arranged the engagement against your will…”

Nadia trailed off, studying her brother’s face. Had he been drinking? His complexion had turned as red as an overripe tomato, ready to burst.

“It wasn’t forced. The duke actually considered my opinion and preferences. I never expected him to be so… thoughtful.”

Berd suddenly felt the urge to award Duke Chaeild a medal—perhaps even the prestigious White Lily Order.

＊＊＊

Meanwhile, having entrusted his daughter’s safety to Chaeild, Persh Diane was in pursuit of the mysterious old woman alongside his former subordinate, Hild Weill.

“Sir Diane, are you sure she went this way?”

“Hild, don’t tell me you doubt me? It’s been years since I was last in real combat, but I haven’t lost my edge. Just recently, I even sensed a man sneaking into my daughter’s room.”

“Such a scoundrel… Who was it?”

Persh Diane barely stopped himself from saying, The very master you serve. Instead, he smoothly changed the subject.

“In any case, I’m certain she went this way. She had brown hair and looked to be in her early sixties… Though for some reason, she seemed oddly familiar.”

“A woman in her sixties? Perhaps one of the noble ladies who used to admire you?”

Back in his prime, Persh Diane had been wildly popular. On the days of his swordsmanship demonstrations, young noblewomen who claimed to be his admirers would gather in droves.

But he merely chuckled at Hild’s theory.

“Considering she summoned beasts, she was either an alchemist from Traihar or someone who hired one. But… something tells me she’s one of our own. I know that face from somewhere.”

“If you say so, then I’ll trust your instincts.”

“Stay alert. She might be an Arete user. Keep your guard up.”

“You mentioned she looked familiar. Could she be an old acquaintance of yours?”

“Hah, you think I’m the social type?”

Persh Diane had never been one for parties, preferring to spend his time honing his swordsmanship. He had only ever formed deep bonds with a select few—bonds that, unfortunately, had once led to his financial ruin through a fraudulent loan guarantee.

“You of all people should know that I don’t have many acquaintances.”

“That’s true. After you married, you attended every event with your wife.”

“I did. In fact, the only social dancing I ever did was waltzing with you and your wife. Come to think of it, how long has it been since she…”

His once swift steps began to slow, like a wind-up toy running out of energy. A chill ran down his spine.

“Sir Diane, what’s wrong all of a sudden?”

That face… The moment he had seen the old woman, he had been certain she was from Heil.

At first, he dismissed it as a baseless hunch. But now, he realized exactly who she was.

“Hild… Did you happen to see the face of the old woman who unleashed those monsters on my daughter?”

“I had stepped away on Duke Chaeild’s orders. By the time I returned to the banquet hall, the commotion had already settled.”

“You didn’t see her face? Not at all?”

“No. I heard she disappeared using a magic circle.”

Persh Diane gradually came to a stop. Even if they caught up with her now, there was little he could do.

No—if he confronted her in front of Hild Weill, it might make matters even worse.

Did she somehow transcend time alone? What in the world is going on…?

She had appeared to be in her sixties.

But Persh Diane now knew, without a doubt, who she was.

Cordelia.

Hild long-missing wife.

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