Episode 49

Archibald Hanger exploded at Marcus.

“You damn fool! What the hell did you say to make that woman run away?!”

But Marcus didn’t hear a word. He was tearing through the wardrobe. Most of the beautiful dresses he’d gifted her remained, but a few were missing. The blue-striped dress she loved. The muslin one she wore to play in the dirt with Juliet. The wide-brimmed rattan hat that shaded her face so well. Her worn-in slippers and sturdy brown leather boots—gone.

The diamond box she always tucked safely in the nightstand? Gone too.

Marcus’s mind went numb.

“How clueless are you that you didn’t even notice your wife fleeing?! And this disgrace is supposed to be my son?!”

Archibald, a giant of a man, stomped so hard the floorboards trembled. He turned on Logan and shouted.

“Logan! Why didn’t you stop this idiot from saying whatever nonsense he said?!”

Logan cast a quick glance at Marcus, then calmly explained that his young master had been giddy with love that very morning, planning their wedding. His tone was strikingly composed compared to moments before. Archibald clicked his tongue.

“Then why on earth did she run away? Wait a moment.”

He caught sight of the mirror in the room and a suspicion crossed his mind.

“Is she extremely delicate? Was I too overwhelming?”

“…She’s not that kind of person.”

“Then what?!”

Logan fell silent. Archibald, exasperated, turned toward the maids who were lingering in the hall, watching nervously.

“You! Have any of you seen my niece-in-law?!”

The maids, of course, had no idea. Archibald gritted his teeth and ordered them to go find her—his daughter-in-law whom he hadn’t even seen yet. They hesitated, then began calling out softly, “Lady? Lady Hanger?” as they wandered the house.

It was then that Madam Noskina stepped in, calm and composed.

“Brother. There is something I must tell you.”

“Later. Tell me later.”

“No. It must be now. You two—be quiet and leave.”

She waved off the maids she had just summoned. Marcus's eyes suddenly widened.

“…Aunt… don’t tell me…”

“Sit down.”

“Aunt!”

Marcus shouted. Madam Noskina met his eyes with a steely gaze.

“Marcus. This is my house. Listen to me. Sit down. Or I won’t say a word.”

The situation was now clear. Madam Noskina held the key to Elouise’s whereabouts. Marcus sat. Archibald glanced at his sister, then also situated himself, clicking his tongue at the wrecked bedroom. Logan stood cautiously behind them.

Madam Noskina began to speak.

“…First, brother. The will bearing His Majesty’s signature—was it notarized?”

“Yes. Not that it needed it—His Majesty stamped it with his seal.”

“…Then I fear His Majesty may be terribly inconvenienced.”

“What do you mean, sister? You’d better explain yourself.”

Archibald narrowed his eyes at her.

Madam Noskina cast a sidelong glance at Marcus. The look was unmistakable. Everything she was about to say—was his fault. Marcus returned her gaze, full of protest, but held his tongue. It was no use saying more now.

“Elouise Starwood is not here, brother. She left at dawn yesterday.”

“What?”

“What?!”

Father and son both shouted in unison. Madam Noskina calmly explained everything she knew to Archibald.

From the moment his son arrived in Cliff, he had offered a contractual marriage to a woman already drowning in misfortune. The intent behind it. The fear that consumed the young lady over a false marriage. Her inability to shamelessly pretend to believe in Marcus’s love and go through with it.

As the story unfolded, Archibald’s face turned red, then blue. Marcus’s face, on the other hand, grew pale as paper. When Madam Noskina mentioned that Elouise had cried as she confessed everything to her, Marcus interrupted.

“Aunt! If something like that happened, you should have told me first!”

“And what would you have done if I had, Marcus?”

Her voice was frigid.

“I hear you swore your love to her endlessly.”

To her as a lady, not as a wife.

That distinction struck Marcus like a bolt. He glanced sharply at Logan. But Logan avoided his eyes, head bowed. Madam Noskina knocked on the armrest of her chair, snapping Marcus’s attention back to her.

“But she said she couldn’t believe you. And frankly, I agreed with her.”

“Aunt!”

“Brother. Answer me. Didn’t you have His Majesty sign that will because you didn’t trust your son either?”

Archibald groaned. The meaning was clear. Marcus looked at his father in disbelief. Madam Noskina frowned.

“Unbelievable. You married her claiming it was for love—but in truth, to get one over on that despicable Duchess of Bellona? Have you lost your mind?”

“…In the end, I truly fell in love with Elouise!”

“And in the end, you’ll fall in love with someone else.”

Her words struck colder than a winter wind. Hands resting on her knees, she looked at Marcus as if he were on trial.

“Can you really swear it? How many women have you made such promises to in the capital? And did you tell any of them you'd one day love someone else?”

“…”

“Brother. Be honest. When His Majesty called it ‘a delight for society,’ did he really mean it as a blessing on the marriage?”

Madam Noskina’s voice trembled with fury. Archibald rubbed his forehead.

“Of course not. Claire, the girl he seduced two years ago—she was the Crown Princess’s cousin. She cried herself sick, refused food, and only got engaged to a foreign noble earlier this year—reluctantly at that. The engagement ceremony was so gloomy it was painful to witness. His Majesty was deeply displeased.”

“So who in their right mind would believe in that boy’s love?”

“But… but El was different…”

Marcus stammered. Madam Noskina grew even more furious at his obvious words.

"That's right! That young lady eventually fell for you, and you slept with her! You do understand what that means, don’t you?"

"I intended to marry her!"

"You damn bastard!"

At last, Archibald exploded.

He stood and slapped Marcus. It wasn’t a crisp smack—it was a dull, heavy thud.

Archibald's palm was as thick and heavy as a cauldron lid. The the kind of hand a merchant gains after weathering all kinds of storms. Marcus tumbled to the floor instantly. Archibald didn’t wait for his son to come to his senses.

"The most despicable men are the ones who use marriage as a pretext to bring down a woman! I used to think, ‘Well, at least my son’s not out running around touching women.’ And now this?"

"Father, I—"

"Shut up! Logan! What the hell were you doing while this idiot was pulling something so vile?"

"My apologies."

Logan bowed his head. Archibald roared, huffing with rage.

"A marriage that hasn’t even happened is no excuse!"

At those words, Marcus furrowed his brows and looked up at him. Archibald screamed as if he couldn’t contain himself.

"Marcus! Find that young lady this instant! Get down on your knees, smash your forehead against the ground, and if that’s not enough—break your damn skull to beg her forgiveness!"

"F-Father, I—"

Marcus stuttered. Archibald, too livid to hold back, threw a cushion at Marcus—only to realize the impact was far too mild. So he yanked all the fresh flowers out of the large vase beside him. Water splashed everywhere, and Logan rushed forward in alarm to hold him back.

"You—you call yourself my son!"

"Please, calm down, sir—"

"Let go!"

Crash. The vase clattered to the floor. The beautiful piece Lord Noskina had once prepared for his wife was shattered into pieces. Marcus remained in a daze, his expression blank. Archibald roared again.

"I was a fool to believe you'd grow up eventually! If you don't find that young lady, don't expect to receive a damn thing! You’ll be thrown out onto the streets with nothing to your name!"

"Brother—"

"I won’t be changing the will! If you freeze to death on the streets this winter, it’ll be no one’s fault but your own! Go find her! Hunt her down and apologize until the day you die! A vacation? There are no damn vacations in your life! Logan! Get the carriage! We're leaving for the capital immediately!"

Logan sprang into action. Archibald looked ready to smash everything in sight, and Madam Noskina had to grit her teeth and force her brother out of the room. Otherwise, their bedroom would be nothing but rubble.

Marcus was left alone in the master bedroom.

For a while, the man couldn’t even move a finger. He just stared blankly at the ceiling. But even that didn’t last long, as his father soon grabbed him by the collar and dragged him into the carriage.

One line echoed endlessly in Marcus's mind.

"You were always like this, sir. You never care about anything beyond your own affairs."

His secretary had been incredibly competent—always skillful at handling situations. And that single remark pierced straight through Marcus’s current reality.

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