Chapter 245
“…I fear your personal feelings might cloud your judgment.”
“It’s true that I don’t want to kill someone who once served under me over such a ridiculous misunderstanding.”
Richard cut off the conversation like drawing a line in the sand.
He still wore the same guarded expression he used to hide his feelings for her.
The Empress decided not to waste any more words arguing and instead brought the conversation to a close.
After all, feelings like his weren’t something that could be smothered with mere reasoning.
“Do as you wish. I won’t give you much time, though.”
Maybe even the Empress was secretly hoping that Iona wouldn’t turn out to be Teresa’s daughter.
She wasn’t ready yet.
Not ready to let go of the one cowardly excuse she still clung to—that she wasn’t the one who had killed Teresa’s daughter.
“I’ll report back once the matter is resolved.”
Richard replied in a clipped tone and stood up from his seat.
He glanced coldly at the Empress, then turned and walked toward the door without even a farewell.
Just before stepping into the hallway, as if something had suddenly come to mind, Richard gave a word of warning.
“It would be best if you kept a low profile for now. The jackals that caught a whiff from that last incident are still sniffing around.”
It wasn’t so much a warning for the Empress as it was for himself.
As she watched her son’s figure disappear, the Empress raised her hand and scratched her cheek.
The burn scar itched again.
Sensing her mistress’s foul mood, the maid who had been waiting outside quickly approached.
It was the same maid who had gone to fetch Richard at the Empress’s command.
Trying her best to read the Empress’s hidden thoughts behind her veil, the maid asked cautiously,
“…If Your Majesty intends to leave the matter to His Highness the Crown Prince, should we halt our own search efforts?”
“No. Continue.”
The Empress answered while digging her sharp nails into her own skin.
She was willing to do anything for Richard, but that didn’t mean she trusted him completely.
A twisted smile tugged at the Empress’s lips.
“If he’s truly my son… then that girl can’t be normal either. Don’t you think?”
***
“...Your Grace.”
“Hmm?”
“What exactly are all of these?”
At Iona’s question, the Archduke raised an eyebrow, as if puzzled—was that really something that needed explaining?
Of course, it wasn’t as though Iona had poor eyesight or was illiterate.
Objectively speaking, the problem didn’t lie with her literacy, but rather with the absurd documents that the Archduke had placed in front of her.
Iona stared at the Archduke, silently demanding an explanation.
After pretending not to hear for some time while shuffling through a stack of papers, the Archduke finally gave in to the unspoken pressure and replied curtly.
“Land deeds.”
“And I’m asking why you suddenly placed land deeds in front of me.”
Iona locked eyes with him, refusing to back down.
If he had done this simply to show off his wealth, she might have just brushed it off.
But judging from the seals placed before them, the lawyer standing by just a step away, and the contents of the documents themselves, this didn’t seem like something so casual.
Sensing her discomfort, the Archduke flashed a smile that tried hard to appear harmless.
“Because soon, all of this will be yours.”
Iona thought she must have misheard him.
But just as she had accurately read the documents in front of her, there was nothing wrong with her hearing either.
The lawyer approached her and asked in a businesslike tone,
“Do you have an alternate name you use when managing private funds? I ask because, for now, it might be best to handle these assets discreetly.”
“Yes, most of these properties are already known to be in my name. If you want to avoid being associated with me, it’s better to accept them under an alias.”
Iona looked at both the lawyer and the Archduke with utter disbelief.
Well, strictly speaking, this wasn’t illegal—these were gifts she was receiving with the owner’s full consent. But the whole atmosphere still felt far too shady for her liking.
She sighed, a weary breath escaping her lips.
‘Just when I thought his enthusiasm might be cooling off... he comes back with something even bigger.’
This wasn’t the first time Archduke Ernst had given Iona an outrageous gift.
Ever since he learned that she might be Teresa’s daughter, the Archduke had been calling her in now and then to shower her with various things.
He once gave her a gown, saying it pained him that he never got to sew baby clothes for his niece.
Later, claiming it was the least he could do for a long-lost family member, he sent her off with a pile of gold jewelry.
Knowing Iona’s preferences, he even had weapons forged from high-grade Northern iron—something Iona actually appreciated.
At first, she tried to refuse, saying she’d only accept such things once it was confirmed they were truly related by blood.
But that proved futile.
The moment he heard her say that, Archduke Ernst burst into tears and poured out how long he had waited for the day he could meet his niece again.
Then he lamented—rather dramatically—how a man who failed to recognize his niece standing right in front of him had no right to speak, and how it was only natural that he wasn’t yet accepted as her uncle.
It was only after she caved and began accepting his gifts that Iona realized something.
She had fallen—completely and embarrassingly—for the tricks of a sly old serpent who’d lived twice as long as she had.
‘Not this time.’
There was a limit to how many absurd gifts one could accept just out of consideration for the giver’s intentions. Taking something like this without a second thought was bound to cause problems down the line.
Iona firmly shook her head and stood up from her seat.
“…I’ll pretend I didn’t hear any of this.”
“Wait, Iona. You’ve only ever lived in the capital—you probably don’t even understand the value of this land…”
“I’m refusing because I know exactly how valuable it is.”
She silently resolved not to visit the Archduke’s estate for a while.
Who knew what else he might try to force down her throat if she gave him the chance?
Perhaps realizing the light in Iona’s eyes had faded, the Archduke played his trump card.
“Just sit down and hear me out first. This is your mother’s inheritance.”
“…My mother’s inheritance?”
That line landed squarely—rooting Iona in place.
She paused mid-step, turned back to him, and the Archduke gestured with both hands as if telling her to calm down and sit.
With a suspicious expression, Iona followed the gesture and returned to her seat.
“Most of these properties originally belonged to my sister. She was the favored child, so His Majesty the late Emperor granted her many gifts… What’s here is just a portion of what I received after her death.”
“…”
“So in other words, I’ve only been holding onto these on her behalf—and now I’m giving them back to you. Because the true heir to her estate is you, her only child.”
Iona sat in silence for a moment before slowly reaching for the document in front of her, flipping through the pages.
After a short while, she spoke.
“This Kolane salt mine… isn’t it a royal property that’s belonged to the Bilfaud territory since the 620s?”
“…Isn’t a little salt a light enough gift to accept? It’s not like I’m giving you diamonds.”
“I assume you’re well aware this mine produces 80% of the North’s entire salt supply?”
The man who had nearly stripped 80% of salt from every Northern dining table merely shrugged with a straight face, as if none of this mattered.
Iona just barely managed to suppress a blasphemous thought—and stopped herself from shooting a look of sheer disdain at her elder.
Maybe someday she really would receive her mother’s inheritance from him. But today wasn’t that day.
At the very least, she needed to wait until she could distinguish what a real inheritance looked like before accepting anything.
Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—a timely interruption arrived before the Archduke could push further.
A man arrived at the estate with urgent news for the Archduke, handing over a freshly delivered letter.
Whether he already knew who Iona was, or he simply didn’t care about the presence of another guest, the man’s gaze never once shifted away from the Archduke.
In a tense voice, he reported:
“Pardon the interruption, Your Grace. A letter has arrived directly from His Highness the Crown Prince. It was marked urgent.”
---The End Of The Chapter---
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