This Marriage Will Surely Succeed

Chapter 199



Richard strode toward Rosalia and pulled out the chair opposite her without so much as a request for permission.

His unrestrained actions carried an air of authority, as if he were the master of the space itself.

Instead of reprimanding her son for his insolent attitude, Rosalia silently studied his face for a moment.

“He’s grown thinner.”

The deep sockets of his blue eyes bore fatigue rather than languor, and his protruding jawline had sharpened further.

Although he maintained his usual indifferent facade, his heightened nerves were apparent, creating a dissonance that only emphasized his unease.

The transformation over the past two months was so drastic that it hinted at the existence of a particular catalyst.

Knowing the circumstances, Rosalia could easily pinpoint that this change coincided with someone’s absence.

Feigning nonchalance, Rosalia asked,

“What brings you here?”

“I happened to hear some unfortunate news while passing by,” Richard replied, his tone dry and detached, as though it were a matter that bore no relevance to him.

Indeed, the death of Viscount Ida itself held little interest for Richard. Had Ida not died near Iona, Richard would have likely dismissed the news of his death entirely.

“Viscount Ida was someone you always handled with particular caution, wasn’t he, Mother?”

“It wasn’t because the man himself was important.”

“Regardless, it seems he’s left quite a troublesome mess to deal with,” Richard remarked, smoothly transitioning to his main point.

“You’ll need someone trustworthy to take care of it, won’t you?”

A brief silence fell between them as their gazes locked.

Rosalia, still looking into Richard’s eyes, gestured for her attendants to leave the room. Once they were alone, her tone grew more candid.

“Don’t act like some selfless, devoted son. I know perfectly well who you’re hoping to meet by doing this.”

Despite her remark, Richard’s polished smile didn’t falter.

In a biting tone, he mocked his mother’s paranoia.

“Even after I personally arranged a marriage to quell your suspicions, you’re still not at ease?”

“I might feel slightly reassured if you promised not to meet her while you’re down there.”

“You’re being overly paranoid, as usual,” Richard replied, leaning back against the chair as if tired of the repetitive argument.

Looking out the window with a detached gaze, he seemed entirely worn out by the ongoing misunderstandings—a performance so convincing that even Rosalia couldn’t help but acknowledge its skill.

If he weren’t her own child, she thought, perhaps she might have been taken in by his act.

“It’s only natural for me to be concerned about a cherished subordinate suddenly getting married and living far away. As their superior, isn’t it my duty to care for their well-being?” Richard said smoothly.

“So the heir to the empire intends to journey all that way just to check on a subordinate’s married life?” Rosalia retorted, making it clear she had no intention of sending her son to the Ida estate.

Richard tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a delicate smile, as if amused by his mother’s unyielding stance.

“Mother, Iona is like a sister to me,” he said with a silken voice.

“What an absurd thing to say,” Rosalia retorted coldly.

“Isn’t it true? I’ve gone to great lengths to prove that your concerns are unwarranted, over and over again...”

“...”

“And yet, if you still don’t trust me, what else could I possibly do?”

There was something unsettling about Richard’s soft, measured tone. Rosalia felt an inexplicable wave of discomfort. Every time her son vehemently denied his underlying desires, she couldn’t help but wonder.

Was he acting so desperately to protect a woman from her?

Or did he genuinely believe that his feelings for Iona were nothing more than camaraderie or friendship?

Considering the fact that Richard had abstained from acting on his feelings toward Iona for so long, it was possible to call his emotions a form of pure love.

Still, Rosalia found her son’s endurance increasingly grotesque.

“Why? Does it seem like she won’t come back to see you?” Rosalia asked, her tone cutting.

The faint smile lingering on Richard’s lips disappeared at her words. His expression didn’t shift much, but Rosalia sensed a flash of fury in him—a silent, seething rage that made her uneasy.

Determined not to show her brief fear, Rosalia deliberately spoke in a firmer voice.

“Let’s put an end to this discussion about someone who’s likely thriving far away. If you have time to check on a subordinate’s newlywed life, you’d be better off using it to find your own spouse.”

“I’m still recovering from the heartbreak of my broken engagement, so I’ll pass, thank you,” Richard replied, rejecting her suggestion with a dignified air.

Acknowledging that further arguments would yield nothing, he rose from his seat with graceful composure. Despite his earlier impulsiveness in coming here, hoping to seize an opportunity to meet Iona, he now realized how foolish his actions had been.

If he wanted to see Iona, he needed to find another way—not through his mother.

Casting aside any lingering hesitation, Richard left the room as abruptly as he had entered, his exit as unceremonious as his arrival.

“I’m not finished speaking,” Rosalia called after him sharply.

“...”

“Richard!” she shouted, but her son was already gone.

He heard his mother’s voice calling after him, trying to stop him, but he deliberately ignored it.

Richard was in no mood to appease Rosalia any longer.

Without stopping, he stepped into the corridor where the waiting maids bowed deeply, seeing him off with utmost respect. Walking down the corridor, Richard sank into his thoughts.

Since the emperor’s collapse, power within the royal family had been divided between the empress and the crown prince. This had solidified Richard’s position as the heir, but as with everything, not all the outcomes were favorable.

With her newfound influence, the empress had naturally expanded her control over Richard. It wasn’t that she harbored some absurd notion of driving her own son out of power—nothing of the sort. However, a mother’s desire for her child’s success often manifests in ways the child himself does not wish for.

Her meddling had grown from a mere annoyance to a constant disruption of his peace.

Richard had tried to interpret his mother’s excessive interest in a positive light, but even his patience had its limits, and those limits were now stretched to their breaking point.

In truth, he had come to regret the decision he had made under her interference: pushing Iona into another man’s arms. What had he been thinking?

If he had set aside his pride, there were countless ways to keep Iona by his side. If he had locked her away in a place where no one’s gaze could reach her, she would have stayed with him forever.

“I should have done that,” Richard muttered in a low voice.

The eerie chill in his tone made the attendant trailing behind him flinch.

Richard turned his gaze slightly, his cold eyes settling on the man as he asked,

“Bringing her back is the right thing to do, isn’t it?”

“If that is Your Highness’s will, then it must be done,” the attendant replied calmly, fulfilling his role without hesitation.

He knew better than to ask, “What do you mean by that, Your Highness?” He could easily name more than five colleagues who had met unfortunate ends after giving such unwelcome responses. Whether it was due to a wrong answer or simply their lack of tact, he couldn’t be sure. Either way, his reply seemed to satisfy Richard.

Since Iona’s disappearance, Richard had grown restless. He couldn’t sleep for long stretches, and when he awoke in a haze, he sometimes found himself speaking to someone who wasn’t there.

He missed everything about her unbearably—the faint fragrance that lingered when her neatly tied hair swayed, her measured and graceful steps, and the voice that was soft yet unwavering in its clarity.

Richard had come to a disheartening realization: the only reason he had been able to exercise such extraordinary restraint around Iona was because she had always been within arm’s reach.

Now, Richard could no longer deny that he wasn’t himself.

He knew all too well what he needed to do to rid himself of this unbearable torment. It wasn’t just a thought—it was instinct.

He had to bring her back.

And if it required toppling anyone who stood in his way, so be it.

--- End Of The Chapter ----

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