Chapter 122 - I’m Yours Too (1)
Chapter 122 – I’m Yours Too (1)
Could that terrible man be executed? Was that possible? Rashta’s eyes trembled. It was difficult to know whether Sovieshu was trying to get her to talk, or if he was being heartfelt. But if he really was serious, why didn’t he do it when Viscount Roteschu first appeared?
‘It has to be a lie.’
“Rashta.”
Sovieshu carefully spoke her name again.
“If someone is threatening you over something you’re hiding, please tell me. Once you start getting dragged by threats, there is no end.”
Rashta was shaken. What if she told him the truth? He already knew that she was a slave, and accepted her despite her history. Perhaps if she told him she had a baby with another man in the past…
‘No.’
Rashta crushed that thought. She remembered Alan, the man she thought was kind and gentle. Alan, a man who seemed ready to give up everything for their love. Alan, who abandoned her at the last moment.
Sovieshu may be different, but she didn’t want to risk everything on that assumption alone.
“Rashta has nothing to hide, Your Majesty.”
“Is that true?”
“Of course.”
Rashta gave a tinkling laugh. However, Sovieshu’s expression was still firm.
“Your Majesty…?”
She looked at him uneasily. Did he know she was lying? He brushed aside a strand of her hair with his fingers, but he still looked worried.
“Your Majesty, Rashta is absolutely fine. Nothing to feel guilty about.”
It was not until Rashta repeated herself that Sovieshu finally nodded.
‘But who is investigating Viscount Roteschu?’
The Empress, or perhaps another noble? Rashta clenched her fists.
Whoever the enemy was, they would not find her secret. When she became pregnant in the Rimwell estate, Viscount Roteschu, ashamed and embarrassed, locked her away to prevent any outsiders from knowing about her. Although it caused her pain and distress at the time, it meant only a few knew about her secrets. She only had to keep careful watch on Viscount Roteschu, Alan and Rivetti.
“Your Majesty, please don’t blame Viscount Roteschu for nothing.”
Rashta placed her hands together and looked at Sovieshu with wide eyes.
“If he’s hated for no reason because of Rashta, Rashta won’t be able to endure the guilt.”
“Alright. There’s no need to worry.”
With a relieved smile, Sovieshu patted Rashta on the shoulder and turned away.
“Wait, Your Majesty.”
As she watched him leave, she stood up and approached directly behind him. Sovieshu looked back at her, and Rashta widened her eyes again.
“Your Majesty, can you put Rashta to bed?”
Although she received Sovieshu’s reassurances, she was still anxious about the knowledge that someone was attempting to dig up her past. She wanted Sovieshu to comfort her.
“I’m sorry, Rashta.”
He glanced at his watch and answered immediately.
“I’m afraid I can’t. I have work to do.”
“Ah…”
“How about this?”
He spoke in a soothing voice, then led Rashta back to the armchair and placed a soft blanket on her knees.
“Relax here.”
***
After Sovieshu left Rashta’s room, he headed straight to his office. His chief secretary, Marquis Karl, was waiting inside. Sovieshu settled himself at his desk before going straight to business.
“How is the investigation?”
Marquis Karl slipped a piece of paper towards him.
“I did the research as you said. But there is nothing worth mentioning yet.”
“I see.”
Sovieshu furrowed his brow and tapped his fingers against the wood.
“There must be something…”
Masters and runaway slaves never had good relationships, while Viscount Roteschu visited Rashta frequently. The more they met, the more that Viscount Roteschu’s claim that “Rashta is not my slave” seemed plausible. However, Sovieshu was unconvinced. And so, suspicious that Viscount Roteschu might be blackmailing Rashta, Sovieshu ordered Marquis Karl to investigate.
“What does Miss Rashta say, Your Majesty?”
“There’s no such thing.”
“Even if you will take care of it?”
“Yes. She doesn’t want to be a burden on me.”
Sovieshu sighed and shook his head.
“No matter how much I think about it, she’s still naive.”
“What if you were to make a plausible excuse to send Viscount Roteschu away?”
“My intentions would be obvious.”
“That’s true.”
Sovieshu clicked his tongue. Several months had passed since the viscount made his explosive claim, but his comments had not been entirely forgotten. If Viscount Roteschu were to be expelled for no reason, it would only solidify belief among nobles that Rashta was indeed a runaway slave. Rashta had also earnestly requested that Sovieshu not touch Viscount Roteschu.
Sovieshu sighed and waved his hand.
“We’ll just have to wait and see. You may leave.”
“Well…Your Majesty.”
Instead of heading for the door, however, Marquis Karl hesitated.
“What is it?”
Sovieshu pulled out a stack of paper from a drawer, closed it, then looked back at Marquis Karl. The marquis’ expression was dark. Sovieshu looked at him questioningly, and Marquis Karl spoke in a slow voice.
“While I was investigating Viscount Roteschu, I noticed some unusual people.”
“Unusual people?”
“I’m not the only one investigating Viscount Roteschu.”
“Is that true?”
Sovieshu’s mouth was set in a hard line.
“Yes.”
“Who is it?”
At the question, Marquis Karl closed clenched his jaw. Although he was the one to bring up the topic, it seemed he found it difficult to answer.
“Who is it?”
It was only after Sovieshu repeated himself did Marquis Karl heavily reply.
“It looked like Lord Koshar.”
Sovieshu’s face hardened.
“That troublemaker again?”
“There also seems to be another investigation from Countess Eliza, who appears to have been ordered by the Empress.”
Sovieshu clicked his tongue again with a look of annoyance.
“She said she wasn’t interested in Rashta at all. Not only is the Empress spying on Rashta, but the Empress’ family as well.”
“What should I do? There’s nothing yet on Viscount Roteschu from the investigation.”
A furrow formed between Sovieshu’s brows, and he muttered to himself.
“This is trouble.”
Koshar was a problem once more.
The Empress herself paid keen attention to the Imperial Family’s public and personal image. Even if she found out something about Rashta, she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize their reputation.
But her brother Koshar was different. He was the type of person to rain flyers to all the nobles as soon as he obtained clear evidence that Rashta was a slave. And if there were other secrets, he was sure to reveal them all as well.
“Leave.”
Sovieshu wanted to think alone, so he dismissed Marquis Karl from the room. When the door clicked shut, Sovieshu stood by the window and half-closed his eyes.
Being a runaway slave was a great disgrace in society, for Rashta and the future baby. At the very least, Rashta was a concubine and could simply leave high society if things got out of hand, but the baby could never do that.
‘What will I do…’
He opened his eyes again and looked out the window with a grave expression. He worried about the treatment his child would receive for having a slave mother.