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“Y-Your Highness! Actually, my lowly son has developed a skin disease and cannot see you. Do you have a message? If you tell me, I will—Your Highness!”
The Count, who had scrambled to his feet, hurriedly grabbed the Crown Prince’s arm and began spewing nonsensical excuses.
The Crown Prince muttered irritably to himself, “I really can’t stand this anymore,” and roughly shook off Count Lucas’s arm.
Just moments ago, the man had asked for time to groom the boy; now, he was babbling about a skin disease.
“What on earth is the reason you’re trying to hide Joel? You acted like a father who cherished his stepson in front of the investigators—did you lay a hand on him?”
When he barked the question, Count Lucas stammered with a panicked face, “I-it’s nothing like that…”
However, it was true that Count Lucas had been beating Joel during his house arrest.
After barely surviving by exhausting all his connections and his entire fortune, the Count had turned Joel into a punching bag, venting his rage on the boy for acting “stupidly” and ruining everything.
Not long ago, the Count had struck Joel’s cheek so violently that something had gone wrong with one of his ears.
The Crown Prince shoved aside Count Lucas, who was trying desperately to hold him back, and stormed out of the drawing room.
The Count tumbled to the floor, howling about being in pain, and chased after him clutching his waist, but he could no longer block the path.
When the Crown Prince strode up the stairs and threw open the door to Joel’s bedroom—
“Joel…?”
What met his eyes was the sight of an empty bedroom.
The Crown Prince stood dazed for a moment, then suddenly grabbed Count Lucas by the collar.
His patience finally at its limit, he growled at the Count.
“Where is Joel?”
“That is…”
As Count Lucas began to stammer and look for more excuses, the Crown Prince threw him aside and drew his sword.
When he pressed the sharp, blue-tinted blade against the Count’s fatty neck, the man let out a sharp “Hieek!” and sucked in his breath.
“I will no longer tolerate your insolence just because you are Joel’s stepfather. Speak at once. Where is Joel?”
A streak of crimson blood trickled from where the blade touched skin.
The Crown Prince looked ready to swing the sword and sever Count Lucas’s thick neck at any moment.
The Count squeezed his eyes shut and screamed in a trembling voice.
“I-I sent him to Duke Julian’s estate!”
“What? I clearly instructed you to send him only after the snow had melted!”
“B-but… I thought Your Highness never wanted to see my lowly stepson’s face again. I was afraid that dragging my feet would only further invite the wrath of Your Highness and His Majesty…”
Since the time the Crown Prince had sent the letter to the Lucas estate was late at night, the Count had essentially prepared Joel haphazardly and kicked him out the moment he received the letter.
No matter if the boy was adopted, he was still a child—had Count Lucas really been able to sleep after throwing him out in this bitter cold?
The Count’s excuse sounded plausible, but it left a bitter taste.
In truth, this uneasy feeling had been present from the moment Joel was dragged away by the soldiers.
Until now, the Crown Prince had never considered Joel’s perspective, choosing instead to shift all the blame onto him.
But this time, a strong instinct told him he shouldn’t do that.
The Crown Prince pushed past the obstructing Count, mounted his horse, and retraced the path Joel had taken.
Pieces of the puzzle he had missed while blinded by betrayal began to fall into place.
According to the investigator’s report, Joel was a shameless and brazen person who showed no hint of regret or reflection even after the truth was revealed.
But if Joel were such a shameless and selfish human, why hadn’t he tried to shift the blame to his stepfather during the investigation?
Look at Count Lucas; he was busy insisting he was innocent at first.
Then, when undeniable evidence of his conspiracy surfaced, he changed his stance, claiming his son had begged him so he had no choice, constantly begging for his life to avoid execution.
But what about Joel?
He admitted to everything the stepfather said and even protected the man who was denouncing him.
And even when the Crown Prince visited him late at night, Joel didn’t beg for his life; he only asked that since he had led the matter, he alone should bear the consequences.
Calling such a person “shameless” or “selfish” didn’t make sense.
Only then did the Crown Prince realize he had judged the matter far too emotionally, swept up by the instigation of those around him.
The unease he had been feeling was, in the end, an instinct that something was wrong.
Since it had been half a day at most since Joel left, he couldn’t have gone very far.
The Crown Prince spurred his horse forward, following the carriage wheel tracks in the snow, harboring the hope that he could still fix everything.
But what awaited him at the end of the faint, long wheel tracks was a horrific accident scene.
Debris from a shattered carriage was scattered across the snow. And near it, the silhouette of a person lying flat entered his vision.
Ominously, the spot where the body lay was stained a deep crimson.
No, it couldn’t be. The Crown Prince slid off his horse.
He approached with staggering steps, praying the figure wasn’t Joel, yet knowing in his heart that those with such brilliant blonde hair were rare in the Empire.
And finally, the moment that face, with eyes quietly closed, was seared into his vision, the Crown Prince felt his blood freeze.
The owner of that pale face, who had passed away without even being able to fully close his eyes, was indeed Joel. Thud—the Crown Prince collapsed to his knees right there.
He had to get to Joel quickly, but his legs had no strength.
Barely crawling on his knees, he reached out a trembling hand to touch Joel’s cheek.
The skin beneath his fingers was already frozen hard.
That chilling temperature told him clearly that the life that once inhabited this body on the snow had departed.
Despite this, the Crown Prince could not let go of hope.
He reached out with trembling hands to brush the snow off Joel’s body and began to rub him here and there to thaw the frozen frame.
“Joel… No, please.”
No matter how desperately he pleaded, those red lips did not let out a breath.
Not even the smallest reaction came from Joel.
Joel simply continued to look somewhere with unfocused eyes, wearing a faint, unchanging smile.
That sorrowful face seemed to be mocking his own lonely end, or perhaps pitying the lover who was crying out too late.
The Crown Prince stopped rubbing Joel’s body and pulled him into an embrace.
He hugged the stiff body, rubbing his own cheek against the cold, frozen one, trying to share his warmth.
He could not accept that this pale cheek would never flush again, or that those half-opened blue eyes would never sparkle with joy again.
To the Crown Prince, Joel had always been someone who waited for him in the same spot.
He had known that even if Joel were sent to a distant place, he would still love him as always.
Joel would wait indefinitely until the Crown Prince could sort through his resentment after enough wandering, and when he finally forgave him, Joel would be beyond moved.
He believed there would always be a chance.
He realized too late that it was arrogance.
Joel, who had held his head high as if he weren’t hurt by the countless accusations and mocks, was actually such a fragile being.
Only now, at this irreversible moment, did the Crown Prince realize how cruel and indifferent a lover he had been to Joel.
It was a suspicion that came far too late, but had Joel really led the pregnancy fraud?
The secret letters exchanged with the Count were written in Joel’s handwriting, saying he tried to seduce the Crown Prince with pheromones and feed him aphrodisiacs—but looking back, the Crown Prince had never experienced such things.
If he had harbored even a single doubt, Joel might not have had to end his life so lonely and abandoned at the blooming age of twenty.
Despite all his talk about loving Joel, he had doubted him too easily and discarded him too simply.
He was no different from the nobles of the capital who looked down on Joel and despised him for being an adoptee.
Just as he was about to shed tears of regret, the Crown Prince’s gaze fell upon the skin on the inside of Joel’s neck.
It was a part that should have been hidden by his shirt collar, but as he had been rubbing the body, the collar had shifted, revealing the skin.
On that skin, which should have been milky-white and flawless, were bruised, red-and-purple marks.
Sensing something wrong, the Crown Prince carefully lifted Joel’s shirt, only to cover it back up in shock.
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HIHIHIHHUHUH THE CROWN PRINCE’S POV