This Is My House
“What? Why should I have to get permission from that thing? This is my house!”
Genevieve leaped up like she was having a fit at the words Victor spat out while pinching the bridge of his nose. He regarded her with a chilling expression.
The hand that had been tapping the desk slowed to a stop.
Genevieve flinched and averted her gaze.
“It seems you’re mistaken. This is my house.”
“Th-that may be true, but…”
“No matter how long you’ve lived here, it was only out of my goodwill that I let you have a room. I won’t tolerate it a third time.”
Viktor had run into Cecily Bethel a couple of times in the capital.
He didn’t even remember most people, but he had no choice but to commit the Bethel family—known as the railroad kings—to memory.
Someday, he’d need to lay tracks in Bayern territory too.
And from those brief encounters, Cecily Bethel had left… quite the annoying impression.
He wasn’t the type whose irritation blossomed into affection like some romance novel hero.
Once he formed a negative opinion, it stuck for good.
It’d be trouble if she dug into Ibel’s family background.
Of course, Ibel had gone straight to medical college without even making her debut, so the odds were low.
Still, better safe than sorry. He’d send her packing immediately.
He’d half-decided already but resolved to consult Ibel first. With an emotionless tone, he issued the order to leave.
“You may go now.”
The exhibition was in three days.
She wasn’t a guest he’d invited, so there was no reason to dine with her, nor any obligation to look after her.
After Genevieve slunk out with timid grumblings—
“Butler.”
“You called, Your Grace?”
“Find a convent for her. Ideally one in Luxembourg.”
Willen’s eyes widened slightly at Viktor’s command, but they quickly returned to normal.
“Understood.”
“And ask Ibel if she could come by for a moment.”
“Yes, sir.”
Luxembourg was a tiny country sandwiched between Franche and Richter. Genevieve would doubtless froth at the mouth over being sent to such a backwater, but Viktor had no intention of accommodating her further.
He wasn’t even going to tell her where she was headed.
“Did you find me?”
Ibel appeared shortly after.
The problem was the irritating face trailing behind her.
“It’s been a while, Your Grace!”
Her brown hair framed sharp green eyes that sparkled with cunning.
Cecily Bethel stepped forward before Ibel could even speak, greeting him brightly.
“I’m Cecily Bethel. We met at that shipboard party half a year ago, remember?”
“……”
Even if he and Ibel weren’t formally married yet, she was still nobility—regardless of his involvement.
To Viktor, Cecily Bethel was a commoner, no matter how wealthy her family.
Naturally, she shouldn’t have approached before Ibel introduced her.
Any noblewoman worth her salt would know that etiquette. Either Cecily was ignorant, or pretending to be.
Either way, it grated on him.
With a twitch of his brow, he turned to the butler standing beside him.
“The guest is resting.”
“Yes, sir.”
It was an unmistakable order to leave—one even the densest person couldn’t miss.
Viktor didn’t return the greeting and simply had the door shut.
Thud.
After the heavy study door closed.
Ibel spoke first.
“Miss Bethel doesn’t know me. She probably has no idea what family the Klarren name belongs to. I just thought you might worry.”
“I see.”
“Mm. And… I tried to avoid her, but she wandered out of the drawing room on her own.”
“Was she looking for you?”
At Viktor’s question, Ibel blinked.
Neither of them harbored naive thoughts like nah, no way. They’d lost comrades and nearly died in dire straits before.
“I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but probably. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw me. She came right up, chattering about things I didn’t ask—like how she’s here for the sponsored exhibition and that she’s the biggest patron.”
“……My aunt thinks she used the Bethel family, but it’s the other way around. She’s been desperate to shove her daughter into Bayern any way she can. This is a golden opportunity for her.”
Ibel grasped the situation without needing details.
Viktor was of marriageable age—and an excellent catch at that.
News of him having a lover would have sent the capital’s social circles into a frenzy. It was obvious without seeing it.
Those people whose only joy in life was gossip.
In the end, some quick mover came to check my face.
Fortunately, she’d lived in near obscurity even within the Klarren family.
She’d never attended social gatherings with her parents as a child, so there wasn’t much to worry about.
Abel too…
Who’d have thought that wastrel’s lifestyle would come in handy.
The guy preferred gambling dens to social events.
Of course, it wasn’t risk-free, but they could always deny any connection.
“I’ve decided to deal with my aunt. Once I have solid grounds, I’ll send her off for ‘recovery.’”
“I see. I was about to bring her up anyway. As a doctor, the boys’ reactions seem excessive. We need to confirm if they’ve been abused. The butler probably doesn’t know either.”
Whether a young, pretty woman gunning for Viktor appeared or not, Ibel remained unshaken.
She wasn’t a rival to begin with.
No reason for jealousy or anxiety.
She was more worried the two troublemakers wouldn’t leave the guest alone.
“I’ll send Miss Bethel back immediately.”
“Why bother? It’s late. Better to let her stay until the exhibition ends. She seems delicate—putting her up alone in a hotel feels off.”
She’d meant it as reassurance, but Viktor’s expression turned subtly odd.
“I knew you wouldn’t be jealous.”
“There’s no reason to be.”
“True enough.”
But why did he seem so disappointed?
She’s not the one—it’s him.
Ibel shrugged and laid out her reasoning.
“Besides, there are too many women who like you. Too many families eager for a political marriage, regardless of feelings. Whereas I… honestly, I have nothing to offer.”
“……”
“All I want is for Your Grace to find a suitable match in three years’ time.”
Well.
Viktor was speechless at Ibel’s final words, delivered with full Bayern autonomous legion formality.
She’d drawn the line so cleanly it almost hurt.
This stirs up some childish spite.
He was the one who’d sought her out with the contract marriage terms. Even the newspaper ad meant the whole world knew.
The ‘love at first sight’ setup was meant to fend off those harboring vain hopes of becoming duchess after three years.
As long as Ibel and I look like the perfect couple in public.
Treat the children together for three years, avert the war.
Track down the twelve who’d stood with him to the end, fulfill their wishes, and let Ibel live her own life.
That had been his plan.
Personal feelings can’t interfere with the mission. That’s the rule.
He knew it better than anyone, yet here he felt like some clueless boy. Why?
Unaware he had this side to him, he let his lips curve in rare amusement.
Ibel tilted her head, baffled at his sudden good mood.
“So, when do you plan to send your aunt away?”
“After the exhibition, since we’ve allowed that much. We’ll need to arrange for her to stay comfortably until then.”
“Mm.”
‘I’ll make sure she never leaves that convent alive.’ Is that what I’m hearing? Nah, just my imagination.
Reading between the lines, Ibel silently prayed for Genevieve’s peaceful retirement.