The Reason Why the Forsaken Fake Returned Chapter 45

“I have only stepped forward to clarify something in His Majesty’s stead, as he is confined to his sickbed.”

 

“And what would that be?”

 

“As you yourself admitted earlier, there are many who gossip about this marriage. Some even say that it’s a stepping stone for Queen Ingrid to place her son, the third prince, on the throne.”

 

As if on cue, everyone in the hall drew a sharp breath. It was a thought they all shared, but no one had dared to say aloud, least of all in front of the very people involved.

 

“Count!” A furious roar thundered through the hall, loud enough to make ears ring. Duke Perus, his voice brimming with rage, came around the table as if he might strike the count at any moment. “If I ever harbored such treacherous ambitions as to meddle with the throne, I would pay for it with my life before His Majesty.” Duke Perus declared, his voice booming with conviction as he glared at Count Dwibon with a gaze that could crush him.

 

The king’s chances of recovery were slim to none. Once Prince Albert married Octavia and became crown prince, the king, having outlived his usefulness, would naturally meet his end.

 

With only a single step between them, Count Dwibon and Duke Perus faced off. The tension in the hall was stretched so tight it was suffocating. Just as it seemed the air might snap, laughter rang out.

 

“Hahaha!”

 

The one who burst into laughter was none other than Count Dwibon. Even as the Duke Perus bared his teeth, ready to pounce, the count laughed heartily. Duke Perus, blinking in disbelief, scowled deeply.

 

“What’s so funny?”

 

“My apologies. You truly are bold, Duke. To stake your very life on it!” Count Dwibon, wiping away tears from laughing so hard, abruptly changed his tone. “I accept your oath, Duke. Forgive me for doubting you. If I have offended you, I ask for your pardon.”

 

It was then that Prince Albert, who had been quietly observing the situation, stepped in. “Is there any reason for tempers to flare on such a joyous day, Count Dwibon?” The prince grinned affably as he raised his glass. “Everyone here knows of your loyalty to His Majesty. I can understand why you said what you did.”

 

“Thank you for your understanding, Your Highness.”

 

Though they smiled at each other, the air between them was as cold as a northern wind.

 

“It is a happy occasion, so I trust you’ll offer your congratulations?”

 

“Of course, Your Highness.” Count Dwibon bowed with proper decorum, accepting the suggestion.

 

With a frosty smile, Albert waited for the congratulatory words. But what came out of the Count’s mouth was something else entirely.

 

“But before that, there is something I must say.”

 

“What is it?”

 

“The second prince, Duke of West, has left a letter with me.”

 

“What?”

 

The banquet hall, which had been as silent as the grave, was instantly thrown into chaos. It was as if a great wave had crashed over the entire gathering.

 

The second prince, who had quietly disappeared, was being mentioned again?

 

Behind fluttering fans, secret conversations passed back and forth, and silent exchanges played out in the glances traded across the room. Those with a keen sense for advantage quickly began calculating their next moves, while the nobles who had sided with Queen Ingrid and supported the third prince couldn’t hide the pallor on their faces.

 

It was Albert’s command that silenced the voices erupting from every corner. “Quiet!” With that single word, the room fell back into stillness. Rising from his seat, Albert curled his lips into a smile as he approached Count Dwibon. “What a strange thing. My brother left this kingdom a long time ago. It was so long ago, I can barely even recall his face.”

 

Count Dwibon calmly replied to the third prince, who had abandoned even the pretense of formality. “I imagine so. Your Highness must be surprised. I suspect Her Majesty, who departed earlier, will be just as shocked when she hears the news.”

 

“I don’t know how you, Count Dwibon, know about my brother whom even I barely remember, or how you came by this letter, but thank you, nonetheless.” Albert extended his hand to Count Dwibon, indicating that he should hand over the letter. He waited, but Count Dwibon didn’t budge.

 

When Albert raised an eyebrow, Count Dwibon bowed his head and spoke in a composed tone. “I beg your pardon, but though this letter is addressed to Duke Cornwall, it was entrusted to me with instructions to read it aloud in a public setting.”

 

“In public?”

 

“That’s correct.”

 

Albert’s lips twitched as he struggled to maintain his composure. “And if I refuse?”

 

“In that case, I’m afraid I cannot give it to you.”

 

The resolute answer left everyone in the room holding their breath. If he refused to listen, it would suggest he had something to hide; but if he agreed, there was no telling what might be revealed.

 

After a moment’s hesitation, Albert, his expression conflicted, finally surrendered. “Very well. Let’s hear it.”

 

At a small gesture from Count Dwibon, Eric, who had been standing by Shailoh’s side, approached his father. He produced the letter from inside his coat and handed it over, and the count began to read it aloud.

 

“To my dear Duke Cornwall, the Third Prince, and my younger brother Albert. It has been some time since we were last in touch. How have you been? I heard the news of your engagement. I regret that I cannot attend in person. I would have liked nothing more than to see you face-to-face and offer my congratulations, but being at the palace only reminds me of our late brother, and I simply cannot bring myself to go. I hope you understand.”

 

There was nothing out of the ordinary about it. As Albert let out a quiet sigh of relief, Count Dwibon continued reading the rest of the letter.

 

“Do you remember? The three of us used to ride horses together. You always wanted to ride our brother’s horse, and he would let you, as long as the stable boy held the reins.”

 

As the letter went on, Albert’s expression gradually hardened.

 

“And yet, on the one day you didn’t beg to ride that horse first, he died. I always thought fate could be so strange and ironic. Not long after, Mother suddenly collapsed and passed away as well.”

 

Though the voice was calm, beneath it lurked a conspiracy too dark to speak aloud. Albert, his face drained of color, reached out and grasped the letter. “That’s enough—”

 

“I’ll stop with the stories of the past. Congratulations on your engagement. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon.” Count Dwibon, who had finished reading ahead, gave a sly smile. “That’s all, Your Highness.”

 

“…”

 

“Congratulations on your engagement.” Then, as if the tense atmosphere meant nothing to Count Dwibon, he picked up the champagne glass on the table and downed it in one gulp.

 

Watching this, Shailoh hurriedly searched the room for Caleb with her eyes. But no matter how hard she looked, he was nowhere to be found. Something was off. She had to find him and get out of here. She made her decision quickly.

 

Without drawing attention, Shailoh quietly rose from her seat and slipped out of the hall. As she walked down the long corridor, she wondered if she should open every door she passed. That was when she heard a woman’s voice through a cracked-open window.

 

“I can’t believe it. Uncle never told me I was to become queen.”

 

Shailoh instinctively ducked out of sight the moment she turned her head. The woman sobbing was none other than Octavia Perus, the third prince’s fiancée. It seemed she had slipped away while everyone’s attention was fixed on Duke Perus, Prince Albert, and Count Dwibon, and was now sitting leaning against the terrace railing.

 

Shailoh stole a glance through the window, but could only see the person’s back. Strangely, even though she shouldn’t have been able to recognize the figure, an ominous sense of familiarity crept over her. As she rubbed her eyes, a low, resonant voice pierced her eardrums.

 

“Octavia.”

 

“I’m scared…”

 

Octavia Perus, having sent away even her attending maid, threw herself into the man’s arms.

 

“…Caleb.” At the same time, Shailoh’s heart dropped with a thud. In a voice so faint she could barely hear it herself, she spoke, and the man turned his head; their eyes met.

 

“…”

 

Caleb was smiling. He wasn’t surprised or flustered at all.

 

…First, I need to get out of here. A warning sounded in her mind. She wanted nothing more than to erase what she’d just seen from her memory.

 

Gritting her teeth, Shailoh tried to make a quick escape, but a hand reached out and grabbed her arm. Startled by the sudden grip, she whipped her head around, and her eyes widened. It was the man she’d just been talking to. “Lord Eric?”

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“T-There.” Her voice trembled. Steadying her breath, Shailoh pointed toward the terrace. She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to bear the thought of seeing Caleb so intimately close to another woman again.

 

“Miss Griche?”

 

Shailoh expected him to be just as shocked, but to her surprise, Eric remained calm.

 

“Lord Eric?”

 

“There’s no one there.”

 

“That can’t be.” Shailoh shook her head and opened her eyes.

 

Eric was telling the truth. Caleb and Lady Perus were both gone. Had she just imagined the whole thing? Shailoh couldn’t believe what was happening.