Episode 47: Hamizel

It seemed he had been smoking a pipe under the sun, as this was the garden. Lara hid her despair and turned her gaze away. Laurence handed his pipe to the servant who had been following him, then quickly approached them.

“It’s been a while, Your Highness, and Lady Belzenoir,” he greeted with a respectful bow.

Lara bit her lips tightly as Laurence gently took her white hand and bent down. His handsome lips brushed against the back of her hand with a soft, audible kiss, leaving a ticklish sensation behind.

Straightening from his bow, Laurence offered a smile to Gladys and her group, but he did not extend his greeting further.

“It has been a long time, ladies,” he said.

With Laurence’s appearance, the faces of the women, except for Gladys, lit up. As anyone could see, Laurence was a strikingly handsome man, leaving quite an impression in high society. While Gladys likely saw him merely as a capable subordinate of Marquis Heslo, others clearly did not.

“It’s a pleasure to see you, Mr. Hamizel,” replied Julia Flapins, the mistress of Marquis Heslo, speaking first among them. Usually a mere doll by the marquis’s side, Julia now seemed flushed with a charming pink hue in her cheeks, appearing sweet and docile.

The other women gathered near her reacted similarly. Following Julia’s lead, they each greeted Laurence in turn. He accepted their greetings with polite smiles, maintaining his gentle demeanor. Then, his eyes landed on Gladys.

Lara mulled over what connection Laurence and Gladys could have. Yet, she could not recall any link between them. No matter how much she sifted through memories of her past life, she could not think of a reason why Laurence and Gladys would oppose each other. Perhaps something had happened before Gladys married Alec, but Lara couldn’t know for sure.

After all, even her husband Ailec would likely be unaware of such an event. Lara wasn’t one to habitually investigate others’ affairs. Furthermore, Laurence had not lived long in her previous life.

When Alec ascended to the throne, whether through moderation or ruthless methods, he wiped out every individual known as a republican. Excluding those who could be swayed, such as the foundation of Rubero, Alec slaughtered all who opposed his cause, including parliamentarians and other supporters of rival factions.

It was a history so bloody he earned the moniker “The Emperor of Blood.” Among his many victims were the wealthy elite of Dranberg, including Marquis Heslo. Laurence had not lived long enough to die of natural causes.

Lara glanced up briefly at the man beside her, then lowered her gaze again.

“And what brings you here, Mr. Hamizel?”

“For the same reason as Miss Belzenoir. Walking doesn’t require a special purpose, does it? Like Miss Belzenoir, I’ve simply been wasting time with idle and pointless reasons,” he replied smoothly.

“Hah,” Gladys scoffed, clearly irritated. Her eyelashes quivered as though her composure had been deeply unsettled.

Lara glanced up at the man who had so easily provoked Gladys, then shifted her gaze toward Gladys herself.

“I’m sure you’re aware that His Highness spent much of his youth convalescing in the countryside, living in a small village without even a single attendant due to unavoidable circumstances. As a perceptive young lady, I believe you also understand that there were no senior members of the royal family to oversee him even when he reached an age suitable for marriage.”

Laurence spoke leisurely, his words deliberate and clear.

Lara pondered why Laurence would have any reason to help her. She could not fathom it. There was no reason for him to appear in such a place and offer her his assistance. Thus, no matter how thoroughly Gladys was humiliated, Lara felt no gratitude toward him.

“And so?” Gladys snapped, unable to suppress her irritation. Laurence merely smiled lazily in response.

“Royal marriages are far more complicated than one might think—beyond the comprehension of those from families who became wealthy overnight by running a few factories.”

“Mr. Hamizel,” Gladys interjected sharply.

“If one wishes to hold an elegant parasol, they must remain refined to the end. Someone as unrefined as myself hardly matters, but your father, who bought a noble title with money, would think otherwise. He’d expect you to uphold the pretense of being a dignified noble until the very end.”

Gladys trembled visibly. Her beautiful face turned pale and rigid, a sight that made Laurence lean in slightly.

“Don’t embarrass yourself any further here.”

Gladys’s face flushed crimson, her suppressed anger distorting her otherwise stunning features. It was a ridiculous sight.

Laurence’s face betrayed no hesitation as he seized upon Lara’s vulnerabilities and dragged her down. Lara, watching the furious Gladys bite her lip with ferocity, was the first to avert her gaze.

The women standing behind Gladys murmured faintly, their lips moving slightly as if they were mute, glancing nervously at Gladys for guidance.

“Let’s leave,” Laurence said, gently wrapping his arm around Lara’s waist to escort her away.

Once they were out of Gladys’s sight, Lara pushed Laurence away and looked up at him.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Earlier…”

“I only helped because Your Highness was in a predicament. Lady Belzenoir needed to be handled firmly.”

Laurence’s lips curved into a faint smile. Lara glared at him with an expression of disbelief.

“What I mean is, why would you help me when I’m in trouble? What connection is there between us?”

“We’ve met before, haven’t we?”

Laurence smiled. Lara was taken aback. When his smile faded, he asked,

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember me?”

“I…”

“The illegitimate son of Marquis Oppreese. His young and loyal dog.”

She was at a loss for words. The man revealing his past so bluntly showed no hesitation. Lara wondered whether acknowledging their acquaintance now would offer any advantage.

She had only been about seven at the time. They had crossed paths and exchanged words occasionally, but it was a story from long ago. Lara found it surprising that he even remembered her.

Laurence, after all, hadn’t been much older—just thirteen. His memory of her might have been clearer, but was that enough reason to help her now?

“I remember. But does that give you a reason to help me?”

Lara unwrapped Laurence’s arm from her waist and lifted her head to look at him. Laurence seemed slightly surprised but quickly regained his composure. His handsome eyes curved with a spark of interest.

“I’m the kind of person who always repays what I’ve received.”

Had Lara ever done anything for him? She couldn’t recall any meaningful act of kindness. Perhaps sharing some stale bread or speaking a few words to him might count as generosity, but even that had stopped after the Marquis’ wife had beaten Laurence half to death.

It was the day he’d been whipped so brutally his back bled, punished for disobeying the Marquis and his wife’s orders to treat servants or slaves like living wooden dolls.

After that day, Lara hadn’t dared to look at him again. Even trying to turn her head in his direction made her skin crawl.

In a way, she thought he might have considered it betrayal. They say half-hearted help often invites more blame than no help at all. Lara was one of those who had tried to help clumsily and ended up making things worse.

“I don’t think I ever did anything significant for you, Mr. Hamizel. If anything, because of me…”

“Now that you mention it, perhaps Your Highness was too young to remember. No matter—it’s not important.”

He pulled his lips into a smile and extended his arm, signaling an offer to escort her. Lara looked at him for a moment and shook her head. Laurence didn’t relent, presenting his arm again with quiet persistence.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t embarrass a gentleman.”

By which he meant her refusal would do just that. Left with no choice, Lara hooked her arm around his. They turned to leave the garden they had walked through.

That was when she saw Alec. Lara froze, her gaze fixed on him.

She was mildly surprised but felt no lasting flutter in her chest.

He stood surrounded by a group of women. On his left were Gladys and Julia Flapins, accompanied by two or three others. On his right stood Valerie, the daughter of Marquis Oppreese. It was a familiar sight, one Lara had witnessed countless times in her past life.

The two empresses’ bellies swelled continuously, while the emperor’s gaze wandered nowhere, detached and indifferent. Over time, young princes and princesses resembling him circled around, begging for his attention.

Lara knew that the present would be no different from the past she had endured. Even if she lived again, she would suffer within the same cycle. So…

“You were with Hamizel, I see.”

Alec was smoking among the women. Leaning against the white pillar of a Mudéjar-style gazebo, exuding an exotic scent, his aloof and familiar demeanor showed no awareness of those around him.

“Rose.”

His languid gaze swept over Lara. From her toes to her head, his eyes undressed her layer by layer, lingering as if to expose even her most hidden parts. Her stomach churned. His attention shifted to the arm Laurence had wrapped around hers.

Alec gestured to a servant standing beside the gazebo, passing off the cigarette before approaching Lara. He extended a gloved hand. Lara stared at it for a moment before disengaging her arm from Laurence’s. Laurence reluctantly let her go, his eyes hinting at regret.

“Your Highness.”

Laurence bowed to Alec, who responded with a slight nod before attempting to escort Lara himself. But Lara shook her head and moved to distance herself from him.

A rough grip seized her wrist, the force so strong that she nearly stumbled. Lara turned to look at him, shocked.

Alec was smiling with his smooth, composed face. Pulled close to him, Lara’s lips parted in astonishment. His presence carried an icy sharpness, as if he were a weapon.

His sharp eyes, though slightly curved, seemed as if they might shred Laurence to pieces. Lara’s pulse pounded as she was half-pressed against his side.

Gladys’ cold, searing gaze burned like blue flames, making Lara feel nauseous. Valerie, too, was there, having silently joined the women gathered around the gazebo cherished by the Marquis of Hezlo.

Lara wondered what was on Alec’s mind. What could he feel about reuniting with women who had once been his wives? The thought sickened her further. The sensation of his skin against hers became unbearable, and she pushed him away forcefully.

“So, you were all here.”

Just as she tried to escape the gazebo in hurried steps, the Marquis of Heslo’s voice reached her. Lara bit her lip, sensing trouble. She had forgotten about their planned midday gathering. The Marquis, known for his love of company and parties, had made a point of inviting her to lunch.

Perhaps he believed he had lost an opportunity to dine with the prince the previous evening because of her, so he suggested a meal with his guests at noon. Afraid of tarnishing Alec’s reputation further, Lara hadn’t returned home and had remained at the marquis’ estate.

“I was about to call a servant to find Your Highness, but I didn’t expect everyone to already be gathered here.”

The Marquis laughed warmly and guided them to the table he had prepared. Lara walked slowly, studying Alec’s expression.

After her earlier resistance, Alec didn’t grab her wrist or wrap his arm around her waist again. Yet, even without his physical restraint, Lara found herself seated beside him at the noon banquet hosted by the Marquis. It was only natural, as they were husband and wife.

About thirty guests attended the garden banquet, a portion of the forty who had been at the ball the previous night and had not yet left the estate. The Marquis placed Alec at the head of the table.

Lara was seated on his left, while Valerie and Gladys sat not far from them, side by side.

Even the most moderate republicans, it seemed, couldn’t escape the aristocratic instinct to arrange seating by social rank.

Lara tried not to dwell on her sense of isolation, instead searching for Laurence. At least someone of her own rank might lessen the loneliness in this sea of nobles.