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Quietly Hiding that I am a Man chapter 168- Fake Execution

* * *

Carlisle, who had been listening quietly to the explanation, raised his hand, signaling for the speaker to stop.

The healer, sensing the unusual tension radiating from Carlisle, immediately fell silent.

Carlisle, known for his composed demeanor and rarely caught off guard, found himself at a rare loss for words.

“A man…”

His gaze shifted to Jeanne, who lay sound asleep.

Stepping past the kneeling healer, Carlisle sat beside Jeanne’s bed.

It was hard to believe such a breathtakingly beautiful face belonged to a man.

As he observed the fever-stricken Jeanne silently, Carlisle plucked a piece of ice from the wine bucket.

“So that’s how it was.”

A faint smile tugged at Carlisle’s lips.

Finally, he understood why Jerome had been so fiercely protective of Jeanne and why Jeanne had vehemently rejected their marriage.

If they had gone through with the ceremony while hiding Jeanne’s true identity, it would only have led to accusations of treason against the royal family once the truth came out.

Jeanne must have been agonizing over this all along.

“You’ve hidden it well until now,” Carlisle murmured with a chuckle, his voice tinged with amusement.

The healer, unsure of how to respond, laughed awkwardly.

Carlisle pressed the ice to Jeanne’s lips before asking, “Who else knows about this?”

“No one, Your Highness. I’ve told no one.”

“That’s a small mercy.”

“Pardon?”

Carlisle rose from the bed, crossing the room to where an ornamental sword hung on the wall.

The sight of him unsheathing the weapon made the healer recoil in terror, falling backward.

“P-Please, spare me! I swear I haven’t told anyone! I only followed your orders to treat him!”

“True, you’ve committed no crime.”

“Then why—!”

“Because I can’t very well punish my wife, can I?”

Carlisle’s cheerful tone was a chilling contrast to the situation.

The healer’s eyes widened in horror as the ornamental sword sliced through the air.

A moment later, the healer’s severed head rolled across the floor.

Carlisle, now spattered with blood, casually shook off the blade before summoning the servants.

“Dispose of it.”

The pale-faced servants hurried to remove the body, leaving Carlisle to return to Jeanne’s bedside.

Since Jeanne had collapsed from the poison, Carlisle hadn’t left the room for a moment, neglecting even his duties.

The eerie image of Carlisle tending to Jeanne in the dimly lit room led many to whisper that the crown prince had finally succumbed to madness.

His brutal interrogation and execution of anyone remotely connected to the poisoning only fueled such rumors.

“This isn’t like you, Carlisle,” a stiff voice called out from the shadows.

Carlisle turned slowly, a small smile forming as he recognized the voice.

“You’ve finally arrived.”

Standing at the entrance was the empress, her face a mix of anger and disbelief.

“Your father ruled with benevolence and earned the loyalty of his subjects,” she said sharply.

“And look where that got him—reduced to a puppet of the council in his later years,” Carlisle countered, his voice cold.

The empress’s expression twisted in outrage.

“Carlisle!”

“Stay out of this, Mother,” Carlisle said, stepping closer.

The empress recoiled as his piercing gaze locked onto hers.

Before she could retreat further, Carlisle grabbed her wrist with a firm yet measured grip.

“From now on, do nothing. This is my path to walk, not yours.”

“Is this all because of that lowborn woman?” the empress spat.

Carlisle’s smile remained calm, his tone almost mocking.

“Remember what you told me as a child?”

The empress flinched slightly, her composure faltering.

Carlisle recalled the memory vividly—how she had coldly explained the necessity of his siblings’ deaths, teaching him that weakness was a sin in itself.

It was a lesson Carlisle had taken to heart.

Weakness, he decided, would never be his downfall.

But that same philosophy had turned him into something unrecognizable—a man whose pursuit of perfection masked the broken pieces within.

“Why are you doing all this? Do you truly love that commoner?” the empress demanded.

After a brief pause, Carlisle replied with a serene smile, “Of course. Unlike Father, I’m a devoted husband.”

The empress’s face flushed with rage, but she said no more.

Slamming the door as she left, she conceded the battle for now.

Carlisle sighed, running a hand over his face.

At least she wouldn’t interfere for the time being.

Lighting a cigar, Carlisle turned to find Jeanne awake, staring at him with an unreadable expression.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Carlisle said dryly.

“I haven’t even lit it yet.”

“Carlisle, I…”

“I know,” he interrupted softly.

Jeanne’s despairing gaze lingered on him for a moment before the exhaustion overtook him once again.

Carlisle reached out, brushing the damp strands of hair from Jeanne’s face.

“You underestimated me. A secret like yours means nothing to me. If anything, it’s an advantage. Your secret will be the very chains that bind you to me.”

With that, Carlisle pressed a brief kiss to Jeanne’s hand before leaving the room.

Outside, the knights stood at attention, their faces grim.

Carlisle wiped the blood from his face, his voice calm as he gave his next command.

“Ensure no one enters or leaves this area until I return.”

“Should we secure him with chains?”

Carlisle smirked faintly.

“No need. The invisible ones I’ve placed will suffice.”

✽ ✽ ✽

”BOOM!”

The bedroom was in utter chaos, strewn with overturned objects and shattered remnants.

Jeanne, his hair a disheveled mess, shoved the table against the doorway, barricading it.

He knew it was almost time for ‘that woman’ to arrive.

Backing away slowly, he suddenly winced as a sharp sting shot through his foot.

Blood dripped onto the floor from where a broken vase had cut him.

Hastily wiping the blood off with the bed sheet, he froze when an emotionless voice called out from behind the blocked door.

“Please open the door. I’m here to assist you with your bath.”

“Go away!”

“Being stubborn won’t change anything, you know.”

“I said, leave!”

Ever since he had narrowly escaped death by poisoning, Jeanne had been confined here.

The only maid allowed access to the room didn’t so much as blink at seeing a naked man, which made Jeanne suspect she was someone Carlisle had personally planted.

Trembling as the table rattled precariously, threatening to give way, Jeanne slipped into the wardrobe.

In this expansive room, it was the only place he could hide.

Curling into a ball, he buried his face between his knees.

‘I don’t have time to be stuck here. I need to save Jerome.’

It baffled him.

Carlisle must have known he was a man, so why wouldn’t he let him go?

From Jeanne’s perspective, it defied logic.

Time passed in tense silence until—

‘Creak.’

The wardrobe door swung open, flooding his hiding spot with light.

Jeanne, drenched in sweat and trembling, met Carlisle’s gaze.

He looked perfectly composed as he spoke, his tone laced with indifference.

“I brought you a gift, but it seems you’re not in the mood to look at it today, either.”

“…”

“I remembered you enjoyed Rakmolli when we visited the north, so I brought some back. I found it too sweet to stomach myself.”

“…”

“Stop sulking and come out. If you’re going to protest, you should at least eat while you’re at it.”

Carlisle extended his hand toward Jeanne, who slapped it away with a fierce glare. His voice wavered as he demanded,

“You know I’m a man now.”

“I do.”

“Then why won’t you let me go? I can’t bear children—I can’t continue the royal lineage. What do you gain by keeping me here?”

Carlisle chuckled, his tone lightly mocking.

“Gain? I get to see you whenever I want. Be with you whenever I please.”

Jeanne’s eyes grew icy as he clenched his fists, glaring at him.

His voice was laced with suppressed anger as he snapped,

“I’m not some art piece for you to display. You can’t just cage me up for something so trivial.”

“But you ‘are’ my art.”

“…”

“You’re the most exquisite, indulgent piece in my collection.”

Carlisle reached for a strand of Jeanne’s hair, brushing his lips against it.

Jeanne’s bloodshot eyes stared daggers at him, but his head eventually drooped in defeat.

Carlisle chuckled softly and scooped him into his arms.

“First, let’s get you cleaned up. You smell like a dog left out in the rain.”

* * *

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Comment

  1. Sweetbutpsycho says:

    Seriously, his actions are like Jerome. Is he Jerome’s incarnation now?? But, honestlt, I like how obsessed and unhinge Carlisle is..

  2. lolabunny says:

    Didn’t expect Carlisle to be this obsessed and where is Luke🤔

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