The Young Male Protagonist Who is Destined for Ruin Fell for Me - Chapter 89

The esteemed Countess of Burk regularly hosted small yet prestigious tea gatherings at well-spaced intervals.

Unlike conventional social gatherings, these meetings revolved around reading newspapers together and engaging in open discussions on political, economic, social, and cultural issues. Uniquely, both men and women were permitted to attend.

This gathering had always been highly selective—so much so that even noblewomen of the same generation often hesitated to join. However, public interest in the event had surged after today’s guest list was leaked.

Ever since it became known that my mother had sent me an invitation, the value of these invites skyrocketed.

Taking a bite of my moist cake, I casually surveyed the room.

The noblewomen attending Countess Burk’s salon were poised and graceful as they sipped their tea.

Despite the crowded space filled with guests and security personnel, something felt oddly empty. It was likely because Vanessa, who was usually by my side, had gone to run an errand at Haile Times.

The women here were unlike the young noble ladies I typically interacted with. They were veterans of high society, each having spent over twenty years navigating the social landscape.

Moreover, passing Countess Burk’s notoriously strict vetting process meant they were well-versed in both etiquette and intellect.

The atmosphere reminded me of my university days—specifically, that one time I mistakenly ended up seated at a table full of professors during a faculty dinner.

Alright. First, I should gather as much information as possible.

No one knew high-society gossip better than seasoned noblewomen. There were bound to be rumors here that I wouldn’t hear anywhere else.

Claire would undoubtedly have precise details regarding Steward Hylde and his wife, Cordelia, so I could ask her once she returned. If President Pringles received my letter, he would surely gather any relevant information for me.

For now, I should focus on the Third Prince.

Of course, there was always the possibility that the rumors were exaggerated or deliberately spread with malicious intent. But even the wildest rumors contained a kernel of truth. My goal was to uncover that kernel.

“Speaking of which, I saw the Third Prince of Triha at the medal ceremony. It must have been quite the journey for him to come all the way from across the sea to Haile.”

As expected, interest flickered in the noblewomen’s eyes. They clearly knew much more than they let on.

“Triha must have sent him here for a reason. I heard he traveled by carriage rather than using an alchemical teleportation spell.”

“For a prince in a nation renowned for its Royal Alchemists, such treatment suggests he has fallen out of favor.”

“They orchestrated his travel route that way on purpose—to humiliate him.”

“Given his current standing, it was inevitable. Lately, there have even been whispers of him plotting a rebellion. Do you think there’s any truth to that?”

Their seasoned insight put mine to shame. While I had merely assumed Itar wanted to enjoy the scenery, they had already uncovered layers of political maneuvering beneath the surface.

“The Third Prince, Itar, is in direct opposition to the Crown Prince’s faction. His supporters, too, are on edge, wary of the Crown Prince’s growing influence…”

“With Emperor Leosys II’s health deteriorating, the clear advantage lies with the First Prince, who has already been officially designated as the Crown Prince.”

“If Itar fails to mend his relationship with the Crown Prince, his position will become increasingly unstable.”

Since I wasn’t particularly well-versed in Triha’s internal affairs, I opted to listen rather than speak. I simply nodded occasionally, offering light, inquisitive remarks to keep the conversation flowing. The noblewomen continued without hesitation.

“He lost the battle for succession, so it’s no surprise that the imperial family views both the Third Prince and his sister as a nuisance.”

Perfect. This was exactly what I needed to confirm.

Itar had fixated on me because I reminded him of his sister, ultimately marking me as a harbinger of ruin in his mind. Investigating her was now a necessity.

“When you say his sister, are you referring to the late Princess Iana?”

“Yes, that’s right. The Third Prince was exceptionally devoted to her.”

“I met them briefly during my visit to Triha. Their bond seemed incredibly strong.”

“Yes, they were known to be very close.”

“And now that you mention it… Lady Diane, your smile resembles hers. That dimple… Oh dear, I shouldn’t say such things to someone with such a promising future ahead.”

Right. Itar had also said I resembled Iana.

Even though our eye and hair colors were completely different.

“The princess’s passing was truly tragic. She was so young… What was the official cause of death?”

“The Trihan imperial family never disclosed it. They simply announced that she had died, and that was it. I remember many noblewomen in Haile were unsettled by how abrupt it was.”

At that, the noblewomen nodded in agreement, as if they, too, had just recalled how strange the circumstances had been.

An unexplained death.

A chill ran down my spine, the kind that came from hearing a ghost story in the dead of night. I instinctively rubbed my arms.

Then, one of the noblewomen casually remarked, as if it were common knowledge:

“There are rumors that she was murdered.”

There it was. The exact rumor I had been searching for.

I perked up, focusing intently as she continued.

If Itar’s obsession with me stemmed from his unresolved grief over his sister, then I needed to understand everything about her.

“Murder, you say…”

“Well, the princess appeared to be in perfect health, yet she suddenly collapsed and died. The most plausible explanation is that she was poisoned or killed using alchemy.”

“Was there no sign of external injuries?”

“None. There were no reports of her suffering any wounds or accidents before her death. She had just begun seeing a young noble from the Third Prince’s faction, so there were no indications of suicide either.”

“…I see.”

“My husband happened to be in Triha on business at the time, so I heard quite a bit about it.”

Listening to the noblewoman’s account, I began to understand why Itar was so fixated on his sister’s death.

To any reasonable observer, it had been a bizarre and sudden tragedy.

Yet the Emperor and the Crown Prince’s faction had rushed to hold a funeral and swiftly dismissed Iana’s death as natural causes.

From the perspective of an older brother who had cherished his sister, it was only natural for Itar to harbor resentment toward those who refused to conduct a thorough investigation into her death.

Fortunately, I remember how this part of the story unfolds. Itar, driven mad by grief, sharpens his blade for revenge, eventually using the power of alchemy to stage a rebellion and establish a colony.

I distinctly recalled reading that Itar de Triha’s ambition to conquer Haile stemmed from his desperate need to fill the void left by his lost sister.

His devotion to Iana had been immense, and he had displayed relentless hostility toward the Crown Prince’s faction, whom he blamed for her death.

For better or worse, Itar had yet to initiate a rebellion. Whether he planned to do so in the near future remained unclear.

I could only hope that I wouldn’t be part of his grand scheme for destruction.

If Princess Iana had indeed been murdered, the most likely culprit, as Itar suspected, was either a close associate of the First Prince or the prince himself.

Her death had completely shattered Itar’s momentum, effectively securing their victory. No one had gained more from Iana’s demise than the Crown Prince and his inner circle.

And yet… why did Itar’s story feel so eerily familiar?

Why did I feel an unexpected twinge of sympathy?

Red eyes scanned the documents before him, moving steadily across the pages.

The occasional jolt of the carriage over uneven roads did nothing to break Kyle’s concentration.

The report he was reading was the result of relentless effort by the alchemists under his command—produced in just a week, yet remarkably thorough.

So they deliberately accelerated her aging through alchemy to render her powerless. Impressive.

Kyle’s expression turned cold as he thought of Marabas Rydell, the mastermind behind the aging curse.

Even the alchemists stationed at Chaield’s auxiliary palace had described him as a once-in-a-generation genius.

With all the surrounding estates now under my control, Itar has likely retreated for the time being.

But that wasn’t the only reason Kyle had to be wary of Marabas.

That man had once allowed his gaze to linger on Amel, clad only in a light silk dress.

Worse still, he had sided with Itar—the man who had dared to harbor indecent thoughts about his fiancée.

If Kyle ever came face-to-face with him, the first thing he would do was gouge out his eyes.

Next, he would take those filthy fingers, the ones that had dared to entertain impure thoughts about Amel, and break them—one by one.

As for his tongue, it would be best to cut it out in advance. No one should ever be able to utter Amelia Diane’s name again.

Marabas had already used Count Gargoyle of Keltman to drag Kyle’s worst memories into the light, and he would pay dearly for it.

Kyle’s lips curled ever so slightly as he recalled the person who had pulled him from that nightmare—Amel.

…What is my fiancée up to right now?

Glancing out the window, Kyle noted that they were approaching the Burk estate, where Amel was said to be enjoying herself.

Since this was an unexpected visit, he hoped she would be pleasantly surprised.

And if they could discuss their wedding plans on the way back to the duchy? That would be ideal.

…Where would she like to go for our honeymoon?

Though they had spent many nights together already, their first night as a married couple still held significance.

Kyle’s thoughts had just begun to spiral when—

“Your Grace, it’s Vanessa.”

Hylde, seated across from him, spoke in a composed voice.

Kyle folded his cloak neatly into his bag and stepped out of the carriage, immediately spotting Vanessa approaching in haste.

The woman, despite her near-superhuman stamina, was slightly out of breath. In her hand was a newspaper—one of the freely distributed editions from the city square.

From Burk’s estate… all the way to the square?

That meant Amel had been left unguarded for at least ten minutes.

Ten whole minutes during which his beloved fiancée had been exposed to potential danger, without protection.

Kyle immediately signaled for the carriage to stop.

“Vanessa Maybrante.”

“Oh, Your Grace? What perfect timing! My legs are sore—give me a ride, will you? You’re headed to see my lady anyway, aren’t you?”

Kyle, despite his irritation, opened the carriage door for her.

Noticing her tapping at her knees and lower back, he could tell she truly had been walking in a hurry.

“Where have you been rushing from?”

“Oh, just a quick errand—”

“As I recall, you were hired as a bodyguard by Chaield.”

Just say what you mean and tell me to do my job properly, you brat.

Vanessa swallowed back the urge to retort and instead flashed her best professional smile.

“Everything I do is for my lady’s convenience. You saw my skills in Keltman, didn’t you?”

“…”

“Well, you are the one paying my salary, so if you really insist, I suppose I could tell you… but my lady wouldn’t like that.”

“You, more than anyone, should be aware of the current risks. I can’t imagine why you thought it was wise to leave her unattended.”

“My lady had me deliver something on her behalf. Please don’t ask for details. You’re not a jealous husband, are you?”

Kyle scowled at the insinuation, folding his arms as he studied Vanessa’s every move.

Amel was intelligent enough to assess her own security risks.

For her to send her bodyguard on an errand at such a precarious time meant that whatever she had entrusted to Vanessa was of extreme importance.

…This feels familiar. When was the last time she acted like this?

Kyle’s gaze shifted to Vanessa’s leather bag, where a piece of fabric peeked out.

A cloak—one specifically designed to conceal the wearer’s identity.

And there was something else.

A faint but unmistakable trace of men’s cologne.

The warmth drained from Kyle’s face in an instant.

Wait… did he notice?

If he finds out I secretly delivered a letter for my lady, I might actually get fired.

Feeling a surge of panic, Vanessa hastily flipped open the newspaper she had picked up at the square, pretending to read.

She had no idea what was on the back of the page—

But Kyle did.

Right there, in bold print:

[From the author of Last Week, My Wife Cheated on Me—the new release: A Perfect Day for an Affair!]

Kyleilian Chaield read the advertisement once.

Twice.

And as the meaning finally sank in, his face crumpled as though his entire world had just collapsed.

Support