RL | Chapter 234 | His Story I

Translator: Yonnee



His Story I

 

Fief Lord Hare—Edward Dale Hare—was a romantic.

And there was no other way to describe him except as a romantic.

He was hopeless at business, repeatedly losing money. In his youth, he was handsome but too shy to make his looks known. Even during the social season, he never went up to the capital, preferring to interact only with his relatives on his estate. The only remarkable thing about him was his late wife, Catherine.

Catherine was extraordinarily beautiful.

But if beauty were all she had, she would have quietly faded into obscurity. She was famous because she was the granddaughter of an archduke, the daughter of a count, and had married Fief Lord Hare, passing over many suitors.

To no exaggeration, those numerous men were no different from her adornments.

A jewel’s true value lies not just in itself, but in who gifted it. This one from royalty, that one from a duchy, another from a foreign chieftain.

Among her jewelry, Crown Prince Gueuze was the finest. The next king of this country. The only heir to the throne. Everyone knew he was Catherine’s lover.

The question was whether he would propose to her or would take her as his mistress.

Some people thought she would become the crown princess, and eventually the queen, but the older generation predicted the engagement would break not long after the engagement ceremony, or she would be given the position of ‘concubine’ from the very start.

“She’ll be a mere mistress.”

“No way, he’s completely smitten with her.”

A count’s daughter and the country’s crown prince. Though she was the granddaughter of an archduke, her father was a count. According to the country’s system, which followed the father’s rank, she was nobler than most counts but could not possibly marry into royalty.

“You don’t know him. Have you ever seen him make a losing move?”

And as expected, Crown Prince Gueuze married a royal from another country.

But what no one predicted was that Catherine chose Lord Hare and lived with him for the rest of her life. It was a choice far more foolish than her mother’s. Who could understand her choice of becoming the wife of a countryside fief lord over being a lover in the royal palace and among high nobles?

Even Lord Hare himself could not easily comprehend his wife’s choice.

He had no wealth. No title.

“It is love.”

That was all there was.

That ambiguous and uncertain emotion. But even that couldn’t be assured.

The fief lord knew.

Catherine certainly did not love him.

“It is love.”

He knew it wasn’t true.

Catherine never even glanced at him. His proposal was merely one among many she had received, a fleeting moment.

.

.

One summer day, he proposed to Catherine.

Always surrounded by people, Catherine was alone that day. In hindsight, she might have been waiting for someone. But at that moment, he was simply amazed to be alone with her. So, he approached.

“The weather is nice.”

“Isn’t that usually a greeting for the day, Mr. Hare?”

“It’s a lovely evening.”

“Yes, a lovely evening indeed, Mr. Hare.”

Catherine smiled and extended her hand, allowing him to kiss it.

“You left the banquet early. Is something wrong?”

“I…”

She knows my name. To Hare, it felt like a miracle. She knows me. Surely, she must be interested in me. This realization made his heart swell with joy.

The breeze was cool, and the scent of flowers was strong. Catherine blinked. As her gaze started to drift away from Hare, he felt the urge to say something to keep her attention. So he did.

“Will you marry me?”

“…What?”

Hare was shocked to hear the words spill out of his own lips. What did I just say? He closed his eyes tightly. Even if she mocked him or got angry, he had no right to say anything back. It was already a miracle that she knew his name.

There was no connection between them. She had countless admirers, and he was just one of the many faces in the crowd who barely had the chance to see her from afar.

Now, that passerby had suddenly confessed to her. How bewildered she must be. His face flushed with embarrassment. When he heard Catherine laugh softly, he wanted to jump into the river.

“Mr. Hare, you will find someone better.”

It was a gentle rejection.

Catherine was not greatly surprised. It was something she was very familiar with. She simply smiled softly and shook her head. Hare covered his flushed face with one hand and bowed his head.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Hare went to a quiet place and, thinking about what he had just done, banged his head against a pillar. Then, a friend approached him.

“Are you crazy?”

“Did you see?”

“I saw. It’s the royal garden, not your backyard—and it’s the social season, so the place is packed. Are you out of your mind?”

“Stop talking. I know already.”

“Well, it’s good that you know.”

The garden, which seemed empty, apparently had people all around.

“She’s out of your league.”

“…I know.”

Hare knew it too.

He knew he wasn’t anything special. He knew he lacked any qualities that might attract Catherine. Even after she rejected his proposal, he didn’t feel disheartened.

It was only natural. He felt embarrassed, but the fact that there were others like him was some comfort. Sometimes people were so captivated by Catherine’s beauty that they confessed just like he did.

Forget it.

Just making that confession would be something he could look back on in his youth.

Making his first ever proposal to Catherine, of all people, was a bold move. It could even be turned into a tale of bravery. Hare simply decided to forget it.

Or at least, he tried to forget it.

 

* * *

 

“Mr. Hare.”

That’s why he was even more bewildered when she came back to him.

“I will marry you.”

But Lord Hare could not be happy about her acceptance. There wasn’t a hint of joy on Catherine’s face as she spoke. She said it and then immediately turned away. He was left only with questions.

Why?

“This is from Crown Prince Gueuze.”

And that night, after receiving the message, he understood.

Ah, so that’s why.

Crown Prince Gueuze intended to take Catherine as his mistress. And he wanted to use him as a convenient cover. Just as previous kings had done, and other kings from different countries did.

It was a bit disconcerting, but there was nothing he could do about it.

A royal command is a royal command.

If he accepted the crown prince’s order, his life would flow reasonably peacefully. Like other husbands-in-name-only of royal mistresses, he would receive a title and his estate would prosper in return.

And if he could even be friends with Catherine, wouldn’t that be enough?

He would have a good friend.

Hare accepted this.

 

* * *

 

“…I said I would marry you.”

“What?”

“Are you the kind of man who shares his wife?”

Catherine’s eyes were blazing blue.

Hare’s acceptance mattered not.

Catherine’s choice was what mattered.

“I don’t need it.”

Catherine tore the paper with the crown prince’s summons into pieces and threw it into the fire. Hare reached out with a startled expression, but it turned to ash in an instant.

“Tell me you love me. Then I will love you.”

Catherine had made her choice.

It was Hare’s turn.

Hare looked down at Catherine, who was extending her hand to him once again.

If he took her hand, Crown Prince Gueuze would undoubtedly retaliate.

Hare knew he was a boring man. He didn’t like crowds, was bad at handling money, and found it hard to be interested in anything else. He thought he would quietly breathe in his corner and eventually marry a woman from a similar background who needed to fulfill the duty of marriage as much as he did.

He imagined his partner could be someone stronger who would guide him, or someone more timid who would share a sense of camaraderie with him. But he had never imagined a woman like Catherine.

This was undoubtedly dangerous.

“Do you love me?”

For the first time in his life, Hare wanted to take a risk.

Just like when he proposed in the garden.

 

* * *

 

Until her death, Catherine was indeed a virtuous wife. She loved her daughter, cared for her husband, managed the estate, and closed her eyes.

But the name she uttered before she died was not his.

He undoubtedly loved Catherine.

Even if she had never loved him until the end.

 

* * *

 

Some people suggested he remarry for Carynne’s sake. Because of the inheritance law favoring men, having no male siblings was disadvantageous for Carynne. If the fief lord died, the title would pass not to Carynne, but to Dullan, a distant relative but nonetheless the next closest male relative.

If Dullan didn’t marry Carynne, she would have to marry into another family with very little wealth. If she had a male sibling, he might have given his sister a home, but with Dullan being a distant relative, he would likely just drive her out.

Although Hare had arranged Dullan and Carynne’s engagement, it was clear to everyone that their relationship was not good. So people kept advising him to remarry. To have a second child and secure a stable future for his daughter.

But the lord did not remarry.

That’s why people called him a romantic. They said it was because he couldn’t forget his dead wife.

It was true.

And it meant his love was more precious to him than his daughter’s future.

His love was his eternal and only glory. Even if it was a love that was already long dead.

He didn’t want to give up his love. So he didn’t remarry. And he didn’t hesitate to medicate and brainwash his daughter.

But despite that, he genuinely wished for his daughter’s happiness.

It just was not more important than his wife or his love.

.

.

“Miss Carynne sent a gift along with a letter.”

Helen, the housekeeper, gave him a letter from Carynne, which detailed her recent activities.

It also mentioned Isella Evans, with whom she was currently living under the same roof.

The letter explained that Carynne was staying in the capital, helping Isella after assisting her in running away. Naturally, business matters were indefinitely postponed, and Carynne was handling various matters in place of Isella, who was avoiding contact with her father.

“And the Miss sent a gift as well. Would you like to see it?”

“Yes… What is it?”

“It’s a music box.”

It was something that young girls would like.

It wasn’t a suitable item for a middle-aged fief lord, but he liked it. The music box featured a pair of figures dancing. When wound up, the melody played, and the figures began to move.

The pair of lovers continued to dance.

The hair colors of the figures resembled his and his late wife’s. The lord kept winding and watching the music box.

Hare acknowledged that he didn’t know his daughter well. He admitted it to himself.

He tried to believe in Catherine, who spoke of living and dying repeatedly, and he tried to believe in his daughter as well, but there was still a corner of his heart filled with unease.

 

[ There is a man with whom I am in love. I shall introduce him to you soon. ]

 

He touched his daughter’s handwriting with his fingertips.

It finally felt like his work was done.

Now, he could remain immersed in his own love.

Waking up in the morning with a sigh of loss, managing the estate, attending the temple out of duty, and visiting the grave of the deceased. It would indeed be a peaceful and satisfying routine for the rest of his life.

He had done all he needed to do.

.

.

“It’s fortunate, isn’t it?”

“Y-Yes, my lord.”

 

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