RAMHM - Chapter 72 < Ungrateful Bastard of the World >



"Brother!"

The blood drained from the Crown Prince’s face. Finally, Rhodnes, who was on the verge of collapsing, held Bardenaldo tightly in her arms and read the letter. Her heart raced at the word “Piretta.” It was clear that the carrier pigeon that Adrienne had sent with a look of despair yesterday had worked. Noevian was now a trump card that could no longer be held. 

Bardenaldo was reacting like this because he knew that. Rhodnes straightened up his brother and helped him to his seat. The Crown Prince buried his back completely in the single-person sofa and covered his face with both hands.

"Brother."

“Roan, Roan, how can I say this with my own mouth... uncle...”

The decision was made. However, the Crown Prince could not bring himself to say that he would let go of his uncle.

“You don’t have to say anything, brother.”

“...Roan?”

The Crown Prince looked up at Rhodnes, who was still standing with a pale face. Rhodnes, who had his hand on his scabbard solemnly, was looking down at him with dark, sunken eyes.

“Whether it’s the East or the West, don’t you already know how to make them continue to support you, brother?”

“...”

“Send the First Imperial Knights and capture him yourself.”

“Roan...!”

Bardenaldo, who had jumped up at the violent content, trembled with his pale lips and eventually collapsed back onto the sofa. Rhodnes sat down on one knee in front of his older brother. Thanks to his lowered eye level, he could better see the Crown Prince’s wavering eyes.

“Only then can you become emperor without getting hurt and without any harm. Don’t you understand?”

“Roan, Roan I...”

“If you give me the order, I'll lead the knights myself in your stead, and I'll explain the whole mess to the Viceroy, and all you have to do is say that you're abandoning that Noevian Trobica bastard.”

The Crown Prince, whose face was distorted as if he was about to burst into tears, eventually lowered his head at the strong request of his younger brother who had never interfered in politics. As he barely nodded, his navy blue trousers became dark with teardrops. Rhodnes silently held the Crown Prince’s head.

“Well done, Your Highness.”

If Your Highness had not decided, I would have killed my uncle with my own hands. 

As his voice fell low on the floor, the Crown Prince's hands, which were holding his wet knees, began to tremble along with his head. Rhodnes held his hand tightly. It was time to remove the filth called Noevian from the path of the perfect Bardenaldo.

*** 

Adrienne's final funeral was just around the corner. The Grand Duke's residence, where Adrienne's body was at his feet. Noevian, who could not handle the things that were pouring in there, shut himself in a social club for gentlemen. It had been a long time since he had felt this real about this empty position he had. It was funny that so many people coveted the seat next to the Grand Duchess, who could neither be promoted to a duchy nor become the master of a full-fledged country nor could he participate in state affairs in earnest. 

He avoided those who were sneaking glances and waiting for an opportunity to approach and entered the VIP room. The letters spread out in the empty, quiet space were miserably crumpled in his hands the moment he saw the sender's name. From the damned Castagna to Raylon, who showed up every other day, to Marquis Winston, the family of the deceased Empress Letina, who he had heard rumors about, he demanded an explanation. They were all annoying writers, even though they were in the same boat.

"...Explanation."

What kind of explanation is needed? 

He had brought Blie into the Grand Duke's residence under the pretext of Castagna’s request, but he did not understand why he continued to take risks and did not even explain himself. On top of that, the crazy Rhodnes had been setting up a makeshift tent in front of the Grand Duke's residence for some time now. 

Noevian thought of Rhodnes’s atrocities as a challenge to himself and an appeal to Blie. A secret signal to come to him whenever he wanted. 

Clang-! 

Feeling so dirty, he threw the glass he was drinking on the floor. The easily broken glass shards scattered on the marble floor. 

When had it been? She had clearly been nothing more than a substitute. No matter how similar her face was, had he ever wanted her so much that he lost his reason?  

'Try to find some small happiness by keeping a substitute by your side.'

'Living a new life with Blie Acacia.'


'Forget about me you couldn't have for a moment and find happiness with a new person.'

Taking drugs. Drinking alcohol. Seeing hallucinations. Hearing voices. Even though he thought it was crazy, he couldn’t help but do it because he thought it would connect with a piece of Adrienne’s soul. He felt a sense of liberation that he had never felt anywhere else, even in a half-mad state. She was going to be his anyway, but considering her past record, it didn’t seem like he could control her unless he tied her up and locked her up. He could force her to have him, but that wouldn’t mean anything. She might be the only thing he could have completely. 

His hands were shaking, perhaps because of the side effects of the drugs. Or maybe it was because of the alcohol he was still drinking. He thought that if he could just get through this crisis, he might be able to have that small happiness, just like Adrienne had said. After all, the Crown Prince couldn’t abandon him. Didn’t he gain the hearts of the East, which he had lost by bringing the Crown Princess from the West, through him? 

Balance. Inclusion. All the elements that made Crown Prince Bardenaldo a saint came from him. Considering most precedents where the Crown Prince changed when the Empress changed, Crown Prince Bardenaldo was quite free in the succession competition with the 9th Prince. Because he had Noevian Trovica firmly behind him. The Crown Prince could never abandon him. 

Noevian gritted his teeth, thinking that it was a fight he had no choice but to win, but sometimes he thought of Blie, who did not act like herself. 

The funeral was just around the corner. And he had no intention of backing down. 

*** 

Trovica's cemetery was crowded with an unprecedented number of people. It was the exact 100th day since the funeral of the young Grand Duchess Adrienne Trovica. Not only the high priest and the people of the temple, but also the main ministers of the imperial family were gathered there. A strange chilliness hung over the space where only sad silence should flow except for the hymns to the Gods. It wasn't because it was cold in the middle of winter. People were just looking at each other because of the crowd that had appeared towards the end of the funeral. 

Just by looking at their attire, you could tell they weren't from the capital. They were the Eastern Piretta people, the maternal home of Grand Duchess Adrienne. The Eastern Piretta people, including the Little Duke Gregory, didn't look mournful, but rather as if they were going to kill someone. After the first part of the funeral was over and most of the guests had left, only those sent by the imperial family, the temple people, and the immediate family, Grand Duke Noevian, remained in the cemetery. 

The Little Duke and his wife, who had been silent, approached Noevian just as Grand Duchess Adrienne's glass coffin was being covered with a black cloth and placed deep in the ground. As the chief mourner, Noevian dug up some dirt with a shovel and scattered it once, but for a moment, unable to control his emotions, he stopped.

“Fuck you. Motherfucker.”

A woman's voice, bright but slightly rough, echoed through the solemn funeral. The embarrassed high priest signaled to the accompanying priests to sing the hymn louder, but they could not stop the woman's voice from bursting out.

“You filthy, shameless bastard. How dare you, a thief who took Piretta’s daughter, secretly create another woman behind her back?”

The softly flowing organ music suddenly stopped. The people dispatched from the imperial court looked at Noevian, whose eyes were wide open, who had stopped moving. Noevian, who had been staring at the coffin buried in the ground for a long time, turned his gaze. The young Duchess Bianca Piretta, wearing a hat with a black net, strode over and stood before him. Her bloodshot and bloodshot eyes were enough to convey what she wanted to say, even though she did not utter any more curses.

“How dare you betray Adrienne?”

“Ma’am, I don’t know why you’re acting like this, but if you do this here...!”

“Ask your boss why I’m doing this.”

Jimsker, who was trying to stop her, looked at Noevian's expression. Jimsker also finished understanding the situation. No one here would know who Bianca Piretta is and why she is angry as as Jimsker, other than Noevian.

“You’re usually so good at talking, so why? When I tell you to talk?”

“How rude.”

That was the end of it. Noevian's cold gaze turned to Bianca, whose eyes were wide with disbelief, and Gregory, who seemed ready to jump out of his seat. Noevian's eyebrows twitched for a moment as he saw Adrienne on Gregory's face.

“Jimsker. Tell the soldiers to escort the mourners from the east to the Grand Palace.”

“Yes, yes...! Ma’am, ma’am, you shouldn’t be like that.”

There was a slight commotion among the crowd from the East. Gregory, who was about to shout, had his mouth shut by someone, and Bianca, who was standing there with a face like she had been slapped, was almost dragged into the carriage by Jimsker and the other knights. 

That shameless. Crazy bastard. Ungrateful bastard of the world. Such words were muffled from her shut mouth and stuck in Noevian's ears.

“Please continue, Your Highness.”

“Oh, no.”

As the anxious face of the high priest moved his hand again as if he were looking at a bomb about to explode, sacred music flowed out again from the organ placed outdoors. However, Noevian, as if he could not hear anything, dug up dirt with a shovel and filled the hole where Adrienne’s coffin was placed. 

The sound of the organ. The sound of the hymns of the priests. The sound of the high priest’s prayer. The ceremonial sobs of the few remaining royals. Such meaningless sounds. As he dug up dirt with a shovel and scattered it in the hole, Noevian felt as if he was scraping up the last bit of humanity and burying it together. The hellish funeral period was over. 

Adrienne, how nice it would be if I could just bury the longing for you that I could not have, and the obsession with you that I could not have in the future. 

Sprinkling the holy water that the high priest offered, Noevian let the tears fall without him knowing. As the last day of the funeral, which seemed like it would never come, approached and Adrienne was finally buried in the cold ground, he couldn't stand the feeling that a part of his reason had been cut off. He had imagined and prepared for this sadness thousands of times in his head, but seeing it with his own eyes and covering it with his own hands was a world apart.

“In the name of God, I proclaim that Grand Duchess Adrienne Trovica has rested in peace in Abadelia!”

With the shout of the High Priest, the name of Adrienne Trovica was finally officially engraved on the white stone tablet bestowed by the Emperor. 

“Adrienne Swann Trovica, mistress of Northern Trovica and daughter of Eastern Piretta. Rests here.”  
It was not Adrienne who was buried, but his own heart. Noevian truly thought so.

'You filthy, shameless bastard. How dare you, a thief who took Piretta's daughter, secretly make another woman out of her?'

'How dare you betray Adrienne?'


Now, really, there was no turning back.


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