Chapter 10
“I am glad I could be of help,” she said, smiling so brightly it was as if his victory were her own.
Her clear, flawless violet eyes sparkled. Liam seized the opportunity.
“If you have worries of your own, why don’t you share them? I am willing to listen.”
"Are you serious?”
At the simple offer to listen, her face lit up as if she had found a steadfast ally.
At only twenty-eight, Liam Evason Crawford was the de facto head of the global Crawford Company, which held the continent’s economy in its grip, and the young patriarch of the ducal house. Trade, transport, banking—all economic power was his to command. He was a figure of such absolute support that more people respected him than the Crown Prince, the future king.
That was what Betty had told her after the incident at the police agency. If so, perhaps a man of his stature might have an answer.
“The truth is…”
After a long hesitation, Arlen told him everything she had heard from Baron Carriott. She occasionally choked up with the raw pain of her stepmother’s betrayal, but she kept her story as concise as possible.
“In a situation like this, what should I do?”
The words came out on a heavy breath, her lips trembling faintly. Liam let out a short sigh.
So this was why she was crying in a gloomy corner again. The story she told was about a family his friends had once gossiped about over drinks.
“It is shameful, but I cannot let my family’s name fall into that person’s hands.”
Her sorrowful plea should have been pitiful, but Liam’s eyes remained utterly detached. One might have called him cold-blooded for his unnervingly controlled expression, but with her head bowed, Arlen didn’t notice. After a moment of indifferent silence, he slowly raised his gaze.
“As of now, there is nothing Arlen Sermont can do. As the eldest daughter, you have no authority. You are no different from a commoner.”
His cold assessment of her situation made her clutch her trembling chin, her eyes falling helplessly to the floor.
“There is little hope of recovering the assets that have already been transferred, and it is perfectly legitimate for the man Madam Regina brought in to become the head of the family. You can only blame yourself for not acting sooner.”
Pointing out her complacency with detached clarity, Liam opened a silver case from his coat. He placed a brown cigar between his lips and looked at her, the corner of his mouth twisted in a slight smirk.
Through the curtain of her hair, he could see her dejected expression. He had wondered what specific help she would ask for, but she seemed to have given up, her head hung low. He stared blankly at the silent woman and took a long drag from the filter.
Just as the ash fell with a soft thud into the crystal ashtray, she pressed her lips together, hesitated, and finally spoke.
“If I become the Crown Princess, will I gain power?”
Liam’s eyes, which had been elegantly flicking ash with a slender finger, narrowed. The woman, making such a dangerous statement with wide, innocent eyes, was quite serious.
“In what way?”
“If I become the Crown Princess… I want to know if I will have the power to stop my family from being taken over. The power to claim my family’s title.”
“Lady Arlen, you must be aware that is impossible.”
“But would it not be possible if women were granted the right to inherit titles?”
The eyes that had curved gently only moments before turned to ice.
A heavy silence descended between them. The sound of the cigar burning broke the stillness.
Liam exhaled a short puff of smoke.
“You do not seem well-versed in politics or law. Are you planning to do something reckless out of some misguided ambition?”
“I may be lacking, but I have heard there are people working to pass that bill.”
The effects of the alcohol vanished in an instant. Liam silently took another drag of smoke and exhaled.
She had just returned to the capital. When had she gotten involved with the new noble factions? Her motives, as she revealed her plan so guilelessly, were becoming harder to read.
Her face now set with determination, she asked, “So what I am asking is, could you help me as well, Your Grace?”
“And why should I do that?”
The monotonous, dry question was exceptionally cold. The man’s face, now an expressionless, lukewarm mask, was devoid of any trace of a smile. Silence fell, thick and suffocating.
The air, which had felt peaceful moments ago, seemed to freeze solid. His demeanor was now as chilly as it had been when they first met at the police agency.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“I seem to have made an unwarranted request.”
There was no reply.
He crushed the half-smoked cigar into the ashtray, let out a low breath, and finally spoke.
“Arlen Sermont.”
“Sir.”
Just then, a man entered with a quiet knock and bowed his head.
“My apologies for the interruption, Your Grace, but Ambassador Shelton from the Principality of Ma’in has arrived.”
At his aide’s discreet report, Liam glanced at his pocket watch and gave a short, dry laugh.
It seemed the ambassador had already abandoned his plan to play hardball.
“My carriage is waiting. I shall be taking my leave now.”
Hearing that a late guest had arrived, Arlen tactfully rose to her feet. Liam gave a short nod of permission. For a long moment after she politely bowed and left, his gaze remained fixed on her back.
***
The sharp sound of a curtain being drawn announced the morning. The familiar routine of a new day, unfolding just the same despite everything, left a stale taste on her tongue.
“Miss, did you not sleep again last night?”
Betty asked, dipping a fluffy towel into the basin of water and gently dabbing at Arlen’s half-closed eyes.
“My heart is so troubled I cannot seem to rest,” Arlen muttered, her brow furrowed against the blinding sunlight.
In truth, she hadn’t slept properly for days, tossing and turning with a restless anxiety. Three days ago, she had somehow managed to displease Duke Crawford, and the memory gnawed at her.
Had she misspoken? The more they talked, the colder he had become, leaving her bewildered.
“Miss, your eyes are very swollen. Did you cry?”
“No… I… is it hideously obvious?”
“No, not at all. No one will notice unless they look closely,” Betty lied smoothly, knowing all too well how her gentle mistress buried her feelings.
She had been like that since childhood, only crying in secret after her mother died so as not to sadden her father.
Even now, as an adult, she was the same.
“Arlen!”
The door burst open without a knock, and Regina rushed in.
She shoved Betty aside and sat on the edge of the bed, her face a mask of confusion.
“What is all this I hear about you being at Marchenoir with Duke Crawford!”
“We met by chance and had tea,” Arlen said calmly.
“Did he convey the Queen’s message to you?”
Arlen slowly lifted her heavy eyelids.
“Why would you think that?”
“Why? Is it not a natural concern for a mother to have?”
Her expression hardened as she faced the woman who spoke of concern so casually.
Baron Carriott had warned her against a direct confrontation.
"If you go to her now, nothing will change," he had said.
She had held back, determined to find a solution first, but now…
“Was it out of concern that you tried to sell our family estate without a single word to me?”
Regina flinched, her face stiffening before an ugly frown marred her brow.
“You met with Baron Carriott. You have been colluding with that man behind my back.”
“He told me the truth,” Arlen admitted.
At her ready confession, Regina’s eyes turned to ice.
“I had my reasons. Once you become the Crown Princess, the royal family will grant you a new title anyway.”
Her question was soon answered.
“I went to the Queen,” Regina declared. “I told her that if you become Crown Princess, she should at least elevate the Sermonts to the rank of a marquisate.”
“You went to see the Queen?” A look of pure shock spread across Arlen’s face.
“And do you know what she said? That she had no such intention. She told me not to overstep my bounds and to leave Edel as soon as your wedding was over.”
"She said that?”
“She told me I was not to set foot in Edel for the rest of my life after you were married. Can you imagine such an insult?”
It was hard to follow her logic. What did that have to do with selling the estate?
“How dare she try to banish me to some country corner with nothing, after I clawed my way here?” Regina trembled with rage. “How could she tell me to live as if I were dead? At the mention of a dowry, that woman held her head high and threatened me, telling me not to even dream of benefiting from the royal family. What was I to do? I had to give her a taste of her own medicine.”
“So you tried to sell the family estate? For money? How could you make such a demand of the royal family without a word to me?”
Regina’s eyes blazed venomously before she burst into laughter.
“It will be quite a sight, seeing her face when she learns her new Crown Princess is a commoner with no family to her name.”
In the end, it was all about revenge. This absurd plan was born from her fury at the Queen’s slight.
It went beyond mere greed; she wanted to repay the humiliation she had suffered, and Arlen’s own fate was of no consequence.
As Arlen stared, her eyes trembling, Regina grabbed both of her hands.
“Don’t you worry. By then, the royal family will have to grant you a respectable title. A commoner for a Crown Princess? Their reputation would be in tatters, so they will have no choice.”
