The One Who Won't Be Abandoned - Chapter 62

Inside the palace, where many recognized Andrei, I wasn’t his lover. I was merely a maid from House Kaiman.

Suppressing the urge to gaze in awe at the grandeur of the palace—so unfamiliar and magnificent—I kept my eyes lowered, clutching the bundle in my arms tightly. My heart thudded with nervous tension, and a cold sweat gathered down my back.

I followed closely behind Andrei like an obedient maid, when he suddenly stopped. I couldn’t react in time and lightly bumped into his back.

“Princess Grecia.”

At the edge of my lowered gaze, I saw her—standing directly in our path. It had been a long time since I’d last seen the princess. She wore a plain black dress, unadorned with lace, and her bare, makeup-free face looked strikingly delicate and pure. Her beauty stirred something instinctive—a fragile, graceful presence that drew the eye and inspired a strange need to protect.

“Andrei. I’ve been waiting for you. You’ve arrived right on time. The late emperor’s funeral will begin shortly.”

Her cool, violet eyes shifted past Andrei to me. With a faint smile of recognition, she addressed me kindly.

“It’s been a while, Jeanne. You must’ve had a long journey. I’m sorry, but I’ll need Andrei to attend the funeral with me. My maid will show you to the room where you’ll be staying.”

Being escorted by a maid of the princess felt like far too much—it made me want to decline, but of course, I couldn’t. Swallowing my unease, I nodded politely.

“Yes, thank you, Your Highness.”

A neatly dressed woman who had been standing behind the princess approached. I glanced anxiously at Andrei, who looked back with concern, before turning to follow the maid.

“…Bastard.”

As I passed the princess, I heard her mutter the words under her breath, irritation in her tone. For a moment, fear gripped me—was she talking about me?

But then, from behind, a man’s voice called out to Andrei warmly. It seemed he was the bastard she’d referred to.

“Andrei Kaiman! I was looking for you. Come with me.”

“Your Highness.”

Both Andrei and the princess, along with her maid, bowed to the approaching man. I hurried to lower my head too, barely managing to keep my nervous expression hidden.

In a fleeting glance, I saw the man they called “Your Highness.” He was tall and broad-shouldered, with deep golden hair and strikingly handsome features. But what caught my eye first were the blisters—large and small—that marred his face.

‘What happened to his face…? Ah!’

Suddenly, I remembered the article I’d read: the crown prince had contracted a venereal disease. And now I was meeting a patient with one for the first time—and that patient was the heir to the empire. I hadn’t known a sexually transmitted illness could disfigure someone like that.

‘STDs are truly frightening… Just what has he been doing with himself…?’

It was already uncomfortable knowing he was the emperor’s son, but seeing the disease on his skin made him feel even more grotesque. Just being in the same space as him felt… unclean. I was grateful that my head was still bowed—it helped hide my struggle to keep a straight face.

“You may raise your heads. We’ll be late for the ceremony if we dawdle. Let’s move.”

Though I was now allowed to lift my posture, I kept my eyes down, unwilling to look upon the prince’s face again. I might scream from surprise if I did.

He reached out to the princess, gesturing for her to take his arm. But she stepped back, forcing a smile. It was clear she was avoiding touching his hand—no one would mistake it for anything else.

“You…!”

The prince flushed with humiliation and raised his voice, but before he could speak further, Andrei calmly stepped forward.

“You said we were already late, Your Highness. Shall we?”

It was a protective gesture—one clearly meant to shield the princess. The prince’s lips twisted into a strained smile, barely suppressing his anger.

“…As expected of a commoner. So little refinement, Grecia Dysnya Sendfinden.”

“I can hardly accept an escort from another man in front of my fiancé, can I? Let’s go, Andrei.”

With ease, the princess looped her hand through Andrei’s arm and moved ahead. The prince, grinding his teeth, glared after them—then turned a sharp gaze on me and the princess’s maid, both of us witnesses to the slight.

Only after he finally walked away did the princess’s maid straighten her posture and speak to me.

“Let’s go. I’ll show you to your room,” the maid said politely.

“Yes… thank you.”

I cast one last glance toward Andrei’s back—his tall figure retreating without once looking back at me. My eyes trembled with unease, but I said nothing.

Then I turned away.

* * *

The late emperor’s funeral, unlike the grandeur of his military triumphs, was to be a relatively modest affair. Rumors had already spread among the nobility that the emperor had died in the midst of intercourse. Officially, it was a heart attack—but the gossip was unrelenting: the old man had simply forgotten his age and died while thrashing about below.

“To silence the mouths recklessly speaking of my father’s death, I must ascend the throne as soon as possible. Every single supporter counts right now. Andrei Kaiman, I hope you’ll rally your allies on my behalf.”

Crown Prince Volvdy spoke to Andrei on the way to the funeral. As the only son of the deceased emperor, there was no doubt he would be crowned—but whether that happened in a week or a month would depend entirely on how the political winds blew.

Leaning slightly toward Andrei, the crown prince lowered his voice.

“The more conservative council members are already trying to delay the succession, citing mourning periods and rites of grief. Just this morning, my uncle even brought up my illness in the council meeting—said the succession should be postponed until I’m ‘fully recovered.’ Absolute nonsense! I’m sure you heard that disloyal drivel yourself.”

In truth, Andrei had missed that morning’s session. He’d been far too occupied with Jeanne to attend. But the crown prince, barred from such meetings due to not yet being emperor, didn’t know that.

“Yes. Truly disgraceful remarks,” Andrei replied without emotion.

“Pfft.”

Princess Grecia, who had been quietly listening, nearly burst out laughing at Andrei’s detached tone. The crown prince glared at her, but she only smirked and turned away, clearly amused.

“Hah!”

Once, that illegitimate princess wouldn’t have dared meet his gaze. Now she looked down on him without a hint of restraint. The crown prince was less furious than dumbfounded.

Neither Grecia nor Andrei was surprised by the duke’s remark. They were already working with several council members to delay the succession. It was only the crown prince who still feared a drawn-out process.

“Leaving the throne vacant for long is never a good look.”

Growing anxious, the crown prince had concluded that he needed Andrei—a rising political star—on his side. Despite scorning his engagement to the bastard princess, Volvdy couldn’t ignore that Andrei was the sole heir of House Kaiman, and his great-uncle led the powerful House Zahrel.

He reasoned that bringing Andrei to his side could also sway the families under Kaiman’s influence—and even the neutral Zahrel camp.

As he himself had said, he was in no position to lose a single ally.

In his desperation, the prince had dismissed the imperial physicians and summoned a famed country doctor to the palace. The man, unlike the court’s own doctors, declared that the prince’s condition was not an STD, but something else entirely.

Overjoyed, the prince exclaimed, “I knew it!” But the stodgy councilors refused to believe the diagnosis, still insisting on mourning rites and questioning his fitness for the throne. His fury only grew.

“What power do I have to gather such men?” Andrei deflected coolly.

The crown prince, irritated by Andrei’s evasiveness, snapped back.

“I know you have close ties with the younger council members. And let’s not forget—you owe your position as a councilor to my father, do you not? Shouldn’t you repay the debt to his son?”

“Oh, come now, brother,” Grecia chimed in. “That wasn’t some act of grace. Andrei earned everything himself.”

“You—! Hah… We are in the middle of a conversation. Hold your tongue.”

In mock surrender, the princess pressed a finger to her lips. Her playful defiance only deepened the prince’s displeasure. That she, a bastard, dared tease him like this now—it was a stark reminder of how far his authority had fallen.

‘Damn you… Laugh while you still can. Once I’m emperor, I’ll see you thrown to the lowest of the rabble, left to rot with disease—just as I was humiliated.’

Grinding his teeth silently, the crown prince forced his twitching lips into a crooked smile.

“Ahem… Now, about tomorrow. I happen to know there’s a meeting with the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. I’d like you to take me along.”

While not exactly a state secret, the meeting was something only those involved had been informed about. The fact that the crown prince knew of it surprised Andrei slightly.

Grecia seemed equally shocked, breaking her silence with a cheerful tone.

“How do you know about that? Andrei, is it true? Oh my—so you’ve already made such strong connections in that circle?”

In truth, the people Andrei had become acquainted with were introduced to him through the princess—but Grecia feigned complete ignorance, acting with perfect nonchalance. The crown prince shot her another sharp glare for interrupting the men’s conversation. Part of him wanted nothing more than to grab her by the hair and slap her across the face.

He wasn’t, by nature, a violent man. Scheming, yes. Disdainful, certainly. Toward the princess, he had always expressed nothing but contempt and disregard, but never resorted to physical aggression.

But now, the prince felt cornered, and it was becoming harder to suppress his impulses. He knew he needed to stay composed and calculating—especially now. But the illness that had disfigured him, the unfamiliar disgust from others… all of it had worn down his confidence and left only short-fused anger in its place.

“You—! I—!”

“Let’s continue this conversation after the funeral, shall we? We’re nearly there,” the princess said calmly.

The crown prince’s fury reached its limit. When the princess brazenly interrupted him mid-sentence, he reached out in a surge of rage to grab her hair.

But Andrei caught his wrist midair, stopping him with a firm but subtle grip.

“Your Highness. There are many eyes on us.”

They were now close to the funeral venue, and familiar figures could be seen approaching from a distance, coming to greet them. The crown prince, realizing what Andrei meant, flushed with embarrassment. Though, with the red lesions scattered across his face, the blush wasn’t all that noticeable.

Wrenching his hand free from Andrei’s grasp, the prince turned to glare around him menacingly. His diseased face was enough to startle onlookers, and several nobles who had been coming to greet them froze in place, hastily bowed from afar, and scurried away without a word.

The prince watched their backs as they retreated in awkward haste, then turned back toward the princess and asked coldly:

“Those maids from earlier—are they from your household?”

“…Maids? What maids?” the princess replied, tilting her head innocently.

Of course, she knew exactly whom he was referring to, but she played dumb with ease.

“The ones from earlier, damn it… ugh…”

He nearly lost control again, but took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. After a few forced exhalations, he opened his eyes once more and asked:

“The two women who were with you earlier. Are they from your residence?”

“Why are you so curious about them?”

“Send them to my room tonight.”

At that, the princess tilted her head to the other side, clearly amused.

“Why?”

Why? His eyes said it all. Because I can’t touch you, so I’ll take out my anger on them instead.

“When did you start questioning my orders?”

“Brother. I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“…What?”

The crown prince stared at her, stunned. Had that bastard daughter really just refused him? Not only did she mock him—she now dared to defy his direct command?

His body shook with rage, and sensing the danger, the princess tried to soothe him with a gentler tone.

“One of them is indeed my maid. But the other… isn’t mine.”

“The one without the maid’s uniform, then.”