Chapter 73
“I don’t want to fight with you. All I want right now is for you to leave this place and return safely home.”
This is driving me crazy. Beatrice gripped her skirt in frustration. If she’d had the strength, she would have smashed the carriage like Caesar had.
“But you still haven’t answered my question. Why didn’t you tell me from the beginning that you didn’t want me to accept the lady-in-waiting position? Why, even while suspecting me and His Highness, didn’t you show the slightest sign?”
Struggling to control her rising emotions, Beatrice forced her voice to remain calm. Not just to Caesar, but to others as well, it was rare for her to express anger at all—but now she realized it. She was truly angry.
That might be why she clung so persistently to Caesar, who was trying to diffuse the situation. Normally, she would’ve ended the conversation before it deepened into conflict.
If she had just played it safe and claimed she’d been invited without knowing what kind of party it was—and that she hadn’t actively participated in anything—her husband would have believed her without question. Then this messy confrontation might never have happened.
But not tonight. Just this once, she didn’t want to avoid it. Even if it turned into a mud-slinging fight, she wanted to draw out what her husband really felt. At least the anger he worked so hard to keep hidden.
“Tell me, Caesar.”
But Caesar responded with the same expressionless face that always suffocated her.
“Beatrice, I have no right to stop you from doing what you wish.”
If she had retained even a little more reason, she might have noticed the faint fear behind that impassive face. But after his final words, something inside Beatrice snapped.
Just one step. All she had wanted was for him to take just one step toward her.
If he had stepped forward, questioned her with righteous anger as a husband should, even doubted her fidelity outright, perhaps that would’ve been easier to bear.
In Beatrice’s eyes, Caesar’s so-called understanding had crossed into something else entirely. It wasn’t just indifference. It was apathy. And the emotion she’d held back burst free.
“You have no right to stop me, you say… I see. So that’s how it is.”
And that surge of feeling exploded into sharp, cutting words.
“You asked why I was here, didn’t you, Caesar? I know. I know tonight’s party—no matter that it was my sister Camilla’s invitation—is utterly inappropriate for a married woman. But since you claim you have no right to stop me, I guess you won’t object if I go to events like this again.”
“Beatrice, that’s—”
“And since you believe you have no right to interfere when your wife accepts such indecent proposals from His Highness, I suppose you’ll just stand by silently even if I take a lover for the night—or even a long-term paramour.”
“Beatrice!”
“If I were to kiss another man right in front of you right now, would you just stand there and do nothing, claiming you have no right? Then you should’ve left me back in there! If you have no right to stop me, who gave you the right to drag me out of that place?”
All Beatrice could do now was wait for her husband’s answer. She didn’t want to be fighting during a time they should be spending in love, but this was an issue they couldn’t leave untouched forever.
If Caesar truly loved her—or even cared just a little—there was no way he could hear those words and remain unmoved.
But to her devastation, no answer came. His eyes were tightly shut, as though he had just heard the worst thing in the world, but he still did not speak. Her energy drained all at once.
“Caesar…”
Beatrice suddenly felt exhausted. A moment ago, she’d been furious enough to argue until dawn. But after such intense emotional swings, all her strength evaporated. Seeing her husband still stubbornly silent, she realized this night wouldn’t resolve anything.
“I think we both need some time to cool our heads.”
“So let’s go home—”
“No. I’ll stay at the Estern manor tonight. It’s nearby. And you can’t come anyway, not with His Highness involved.”
He was the one who refused to open his heart… So why was he wearing that expression? Like a man who had just been handed a death sentence, Caesar looked at her pale-faced as she said she’d go to her family’s home.
Once, that face alone would’ve broken her. She might have thrown herself into his arms, saying everything would be fine and begging him to come home together.
However, Beatrice was beginning to understand, albeit vaguely.
Nothing would be resolved like this, and there was a great mountain standing between them that the two would have to cross.
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