28 — Chapter 28

“I’ll take your silence as an admission.”

Liesel’s voice, low and crawling, echoed through the luxurious but dimly lit room.

Confirming there was no response, he abruptly released Heidemarie’s chin and clicked his tongue in irritation.

“…So I was right. I’m disappointed in you, Heidemarie.”

He rubbed the hand that had touched the courtesan’s skin against his clothes as if it had been soiled. His almond-shaped, made-up eyes were now filled with overflowing contempt.

“Back when we took over this prison, you said, ‘I aim to create a comfortable environment for the child in my womb.’ I was impressed. I thought you were quite a woman, so I cooperated. But now look at you. Was Elma just a pawn to you all along?”

Thud!

He kicked the back of the sofa with sudden force. Despite his slender build, the heavy sofa rocked violently under his strike.

“Don’t screw with me. You don’t deserve the title of Elma’s mother. You hear me? I’m taking the position of Elma’s mother. That girl is coming back to this home to live happily with us. And as for you—you’re the one who’s leaving.”

“…Elma is not coming back—”

“No, she is.”

Liesel cut Heidemarie off the moment she finally opened her mouth. He leaned over the backrest again, bringing his cheek close to hers from behind.

“I heard you told that girl, ‘Don’t come back until you understand what a normal girl is like.’ What a cruel thing to say—when there’s no way a child raised by us could ever be ‘normal.’ But it’s fine. I’ve made sure to follow up properly.”

“…What did you say?”

Heidemarie whipped around. Seeing a sharp expression finally flicker across her doll-like, pale beauty, Liesel sneered.

“I gave her a little ‘talking-to.’ I told her: ‘If you feel like you can’t become normal,’ ‘ignore Marie’s orders,’ and ‘use whatever means necessary’ to come back home.”

Imprinting—he had placed a suggestion on her.

Recognizing the clear irritation surfacing in Heidemarie’s cat-like eyes, Liesel’s grin deepened.

“Pushing away your precious child isn’t the act of a mother. A mother is someone who creates a place to warmly welcome even a child who can’t fit into society—UWAAAGH!”

However, the end of his sentence was scorched away by a guttural, masculine roar.

“IT BURNS! You! What do you think you’re doing?!”

“I just sprayed some perfume. In your eyes.”

“Where did that perfume even come from?!”

“My cleavage.”

After answering nonchalantly, Heidemarie shrugged with a look of lethargy.

“If that had been brandy, you might have been blinded. It’s unfortunate—rather, lucky for you—that it was only perfume with a low alcohol content.”

“Don’t sound so extremely disappointed about it!”

As Liesel screamed while clutching his eyes, the door to the room swung open, likely drawn by the noise.

“What happened? An ambush?”

It was Gilbert, who had been away from the room.

“No. Just a fit of madness,” Heidemarie answered with a light wave of her hand, then added with a slight pout. “[Envy] here decided to outright deny my maternal instincts and the outcome of my bet.”

“I see.”

An amused glint flickered across Gilbert’s intelligent, rugged face. He lifted one corner of his well-formed lips and tilted his head slightly.

“That was reckless of him.”

“What do you mean by that…?”

The pain in Liesel’s eyes had finally begun to subside. Pressing a handkerchief against his bloodshot eyes, he glared sharply at the two of them.

“You’re saying this woman actually possesses sufficient maternal instincts? And what is this bet you’re talking about?”

“A bet on whether or not Elma will come crawling back here in defeat. For the record, I’ve bet everything on ‘She won’t come back.’ Because I believe in that girl.”

“Hah?”

Heidemarie gave a small smile to Liesel, who made no effort to hide his bewilderment.

“And, as you know, I have never lost a bet in my entire life.”

“—Regarding that bet,” Gilbert cut in.

In one of his powerful hands, he held a single sheet of stationery.

“According to a letter that arrived for our Warden, we’ll be having a newcomer in this prison (home) very soon. The charge: attempted assassination of royalty.”

“Oh. It’s been a while since we had one of those.”

“—And?”

Ignoring Liesel’s blinking surprise, Heidemarie asked quietly. She clasped her hands over her knees and stared intently at the chessboard on the table.

“Just who exactly is coming?”

“Ah, about that—”

Gilbert cast a fleeting glance at her, then slowly opened his mouth to speak.