“Who does that little minx think she is?! How dare she look down her nose so coyly at me! And to think, she’s utterly pulled the wool over Arnald’s eyes! What the hell is she playing at?!”
Carla Rydewall had been in such a good mood on the way to the victory party, but now that she was home, she bit her long fingernails and howled in anger.
As her partner for the night, Emilio found the outburst unsightly. He was growing tired of her antics.
Carla had been very enthusiastic earlier at the prospect of ensnaring Arnald once again after all these years, only to get harshly rejected. When he’d gone on and on about how his beloved wife was so beautiful and lovely, Carla had stamped her feet in anger and frustration. Even Emilio, who barely ever saw the lieutenant colonel, hadn’t been able to believe that the man he knew would gush so about his bride.
Emilio was astonished that Carla had lost so totally and utterly to Byletta. That said, when he’d tried to warn Arnald about the girl’s wicked ways, he’d been met with an ice-cold stare before the man had chased him away. Emilio gritted his teeth at the thought of how he’d refused to hear a single word against his wife, despite Emilio’s good intentions.
Sitting on a sofa at the Rydewall estate, Emillio called out to Carla, who had been pacing back and forth across the room as she vented her bitterness.
“Please do calm down, Lady Carla. This is how that dreadful wench operates. You are not the only one who wishes to see the lieutenant colonel saved from her evil clutches. If you lose your cool now, you’ll be playing right into her hands.”
“Ah, yes. There is that.”
Carla nuzzled up to Emilio and clung to him. The smell of pungent perfume filled the man’s nostrils, but he tried his hardest not to allow his disgust to show on his face.
He was the aide to the Speaker of Parliament. That was his title.
He had come all this way to be appointed by the Speaker of Parliament himself, Marquis Carisein Girelle. And he wanted more. He had so much more to offer than he could provide as a lowly aide.
Carla was a woman worth using. Emilio was under strict orders from Girelle himself not to provoke her unnecessarily, nor was he to allow her temper to go unchecked. And he had no right to refuse those orders.
But Emilio couldn’t help his own inadequacies. Instead of acting as he’d been directed, he just grinned and bore Carla’s reactions instead.
“You’ll stay the night with me, won’t you?”
“I have some matters that I must get back to attend to immediately, though it is a pity.”
“How heartless.”
Carla smiled without seeming the least bit disappointed. She had plenty of other favorites, even if Emilio wasn’t intending to stay.
His eyes suddenly landed upon Carla’s golden curls. Emilio smiled. Her hair color had been so much paler.
That vibrant strawberry-blond hue flashed up into the back of Emilio’s mind.
The color of Byletta’s hair was much more vivid and distinct in his memories of her, perhaps because of the strong impression she had left upon him. Or because his memories of her were so intense.
When she’d arrived at Stacia Academy, she had been a beautiful young girl who could have any other student she wanted. But by the time she’d graduated, the incident with the knife had stopped her from coming to school completely.
Even though he had never intended things to end that way, Emilio held a deep resentment for the girl who refused to ever submit to him.
If only she’d depended on him more, he could have helped her.
If only she’d been more of a fool, he would’ve held out his hand to lift her up.
If only she’d been duller, he would have taken her for his own and treasured her.
Emilio’s match had already been decided for him, so he could never have married a daughter of a lowly viscount and man of the military, especially given that they were from different factions.
The heir to a noble faction marquis knew no freedom, but he would have kept her beside him as his mistress.
Unfortunately for him, Byletta was strong, intelligent, and sharp-edged as a blade.
That’s why she would never be his.
Neither back then, nor today.
The Byletta that Emilio had met at the victory celebration that evening had been far more womanly than he’d remembered. Her gorgeous strawberry-blond hair had been paler than he recalled and lent her a gentler air. She’d looked softer and sweeter.
Emilio had spotted her at other parties before her husband had returned from the front, but she’d grown even more beautiful since then. She always seemed to be grappling with something and putting her best foot forward, but her unbreakable amethyst eyes still had the same sparkle in them as always.
It looked like she’d also gained some sex appeal. She’d always had a very pretty face, but now there was an allure and seductiveness to go with it.
There had been whispers of an inappropriate relationship with her uncle, and that she played mistress to her father-in-law when her husband was away. Emilio had made sure they spread like wildfire at the military’s victory party. It didn’t matter to him whether they were true or not.
That said, innocent girls were beautiful, and Emilio thought he should be the only one to know of her innocence.
And yet, just a few hours ago, he had trembled in front of her. She’d matured so much.
Byletta had become stunningly beautiful, and all she’d done was smile and belittle the man who yearned for her.
Rumor had it that she’d also successfully seduced her notoriously coldhearted husband.
They’d been seen acting intimate with each other here and there and had even traveled all the way to the Swangan’s countryside estate, which Arnald hadn’t been to since he was a boy. They’d been seen walking together, shopping together, riding a carriage together… And each and every time, Emilio had gotten the impulse to smash something to pieces.
Then he’d seen them together at the victory party, enjoying each other’s conversation.
He’d spread rumors about her to sow discord between the pair. So that Arnald would lose faith in his wife.
But Emilio had been firmly sent on his way.
He gritted his teeth to try to suppress his anger.
He’d planned to be nice.
Byletta was supposed to come running to him in tears, crying about how she hated military men. Then it would’ve been time to make his move. Then they would’ve holed up in a villa somewhere. Arnald was supposed to accept Carla’s offer, but that too had ended in failure.
It was supposed to have been easy.
But everything had failed.
And all by Byletta’s hand.
But there was no stopping the plan now.
She was the one who’d smashed their more amicable strategy to pieces. She had only herself to blame for what was going to happen next.
Emilio’s approach was about to get more extreme and dangerous.
There was no other way.
It was Byletta’s choice. She had always been a detestable woman, an unpleasant person whom Emilio hated more and more with every ruined scheme.
But one day she would be his.
Even if she did mock him. Even if he did feel his kindness was only rewarded with spite.
He simply couldn’t give her up.
“We have no other choice. Let the foxhunt begin.”
“Heh-heh, just make doubly sure not to hurt him. He’s rather a favorite of mine.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that, but I can make no guarantees. I bid you goodnight.”
Emilio stood up and smiled seductively.
Then he prayed a little prayer.
For once, he couldn’t help but wonder, what if?
If she depended on me, I know I’d…
Emilio left the Rydewall residence thinking of the girl with the unyielding spirit. Though they lived under the same sky, they were so close, yet so far from each other.
A letter had arrived. Inside was a summons to the Swangan’s countryside estate, written by her father-in-law. It seemed the new flood prevention project had sparked an uprising.