I Seducing the Black-Hearted Duke Wasn't Me - Chapter 58

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 58
Wait, then what was that testimony I just heard a moment ago?
‘Did she really just say it without thinking?’
Either way, it was behavior utterly unlike Isabel’s normally timid nature.
And with the future Empress herself joining in, there was no way this situation would end here.
“County Lady Merciel.”
At least, that’s what the Duke seemed to believe.
“Your words lack credibility, County Lady. It’s been rumored lately that your relationship with the Marquis has grown quite intimate. If you’re lying for his sake, I suggest you stop.”
“No, that’s not it. Erna really did nothing wrong at all——!”
“Or perhaps you simply feel inferior to my daughter? It’s not as if it hasn’t been common knowledge for some time.”
The Duke let out a derisive snort and swallowed the rest of his words.
Everyone understood well enough what he meant without him saying it all.
The crowd murmured at the overstepped insult, though only a few dared voice it.
“County Lady.”
Duke Blanche approached coldly, his strides purposeful and commanding.
Isabel instinctively recoiled before the threat of this much larger, fiercer man.
“If you wish to claim that your previous statement was testimony, then you must stake your certainty that there is not a single lie in anything that left your lips. Can you do that?”
Isabel’s eyes trembled with fear.
She was clearly terrified of the killing intent the Duke was radiating.
For Isabel, who had endured ridicule and contempt all this time, such a moment would be unbearable.
Thinking I should step in, I began to move forward.
“Yes.”
Isabel lifted her bowed head and answered with unwavering resolve.
“I stake the seat of future Empress upon it. I can swear to it here, before all of you.”
“……!”
Isabel spoke boldly, her voice steady and unshaking.
Everyone around her was astonished at such audacity.
Though it seemed Duke Blanche was the most surprised of all.
The County Lady of Merciel, who had always been cowed and meek, was now speaking her mind without a tremor before him.
He clearly hadn’t anticipated this at all.
“I heard it plainly. Bianca told me that I wouldn’t be of help to the Marquis. Others standing nearby said that Bianca had received thorough instruction in the duties of Empress since childhood and would surpass me. That she has proven her worth to the Roman Kingdom and is a reliable presence. And further……that Orden’s future is uncertain in that regard. Bianca heard all these words and said nothing in response.”
“My heavens, what a thing!”
Someone in the crowd cried out loudly.
“She said all that right in front of her?”
“My, even so, that’s rather…….”
“Could it be she still hasn’t let go? After marrying into another kingdom all this time.”
The situation reversed in an instant.
The crowd’s sentiment shifted rapidly.
The Duke too seemed conscious of the sudden change in opinion, his eyes darting about.
Then, fixing his gaze on Isabel, he snorted dismissively.
“Anyone can make such a claim. We still don’t know which side speaks truth. But remember this one thing: if Bianca’s words prove true, you must stand by what you’ve just said.”
But Isabel no longer flinched at such threats.
Though admittedly, she was trembling as she gripped my hand tightly through the folds of her dress.
Still, she did not avoid the Duke’s gaze.
She was meeting him head-on.
It was just as the situation was reaching its most intense peak.
“Excuse me, I hate to interrupt when things are heating up so nicely.”
An unexpected voice cut in, and all eyes turned at once.
I turned my head and froze.
A person I’d never expected stood before me.
‘Who on earth is……?’
I wasn’t the only one shocked.
Bianca’s face in particular had gone deathly pale.
“I couldn’t keep quiet hearing this, you see. It does concern my family, after all.”
The words “my family” dropped into the silence like a stone.
“Goodness, Your Highness the Princess? How do you come to be here——!”
Bianca murmured, her breath caught.
I stared at the woman before me with wide eyes.
Silver hair and blue eyes.
Tall, with pale skin, a long neck, and gracefully extended legs.
The silk dress clinging to her body looked refreshingly exotic at first glance—deceptively light and elegant.
And there, glittering atop her short bob, sat a tiara.
Nadia Rodsh Rowell.
The Princess of the Roman Kingdom snapped her fan shut with practiced ease and smiled in my direction.
“So you’re the Marquis Zaherette, today’s guest of honor. How delightful. I’m Nadia Rodsh Rowell.”
“It’s a tremendous honor to meet you, Your Highness.”
I recognized her instantly, and the reason was simple enough.
Apparently, she scattered gossip wherever she went.
The woman appeared in foreign scandal sheets at least once every three months—a regular fixture whose exploits were invariably spectacular.
Each scandal seemed to feature a different man, making it perfectly clear she exercised no restraint whatsoever in matters of the heart.
Such freedoms were only possible because of her twin brother, the King, and his open favoritism toward her.
Consequently, when people spoke of Princess Nadia, they meant the most liberated woman on the continent.
So what in the world was she doing here?
“Your Highness. It’s been far too long. I trust you’ve been well?”
“It has, Duke Blanche. And you seem to be thriving.”
“I confess I wasn’t aware you’d be attending tonight’s gathering. Had I known, our household would have extended a proper welcome.”
The Duke received her with practiced composure, as though some minor misunderstanding had simply occurred.
But then—
“Yes, well, I hadn’t planned on coming myself. But what choice do I have? My family keeps causing trouble, and as a responsible elder, I need to sort things out and clean up the mess.”
“I beg your pardon? What sort of—”
“Fortunately, everyone’s gathered here nicely. Perfect timing, Crown Princess.”
With a sardonic expression, the Princess dismissed the Duke entirely and gestured sharply toward Bianca with her chin.
The pressure emanating from her was altogether different from what Bianca or the Duke had created.
It was innate—the sheer weight of royal blood.
“I’ve heard the full account. Apologize to Marquis Zaherette this instant.”
“I… what?”
The Princess’s sudden demand for an apology hung in the air.
And when she commanded Bianca to apologize to me, I heard breath catch throughout the room.
The Duke was the first to recover.
“Forgive me, Your Highness, but I’m at a loss. What fault could my daughter have committed against the Marquis?”
“A grave one, actually.”
The Princess nodded, her expression broadcasting utter indifference.
“The Crown Princess used the Roman Royal Family’s name to extort the Marquis.”
“Surely… you don’t mean—”
“His Majesty the King took the matter very seriously when he learned of it. He ordered an immediate investigation, and certain facts have indeed been confirmed. I’ve come here to address the situation properly.”
Without the slightest hint of reservation, the Princess laid everything bare—clearly annoyed at the inconvenience she’d been forced to bear.
“It’s infuriating, frankly. The dealings between Marquis Zaherette of the Orden Empire and the Roman Royal Family are a longstanding arrangement dating back generations. For someone unworthy to exploit it for personal gain, let alone invoke the Crown’s name, is entirely unacceptable.”
“No, I, I didn’t—”
“Explain yourself, Bianca Rowell. Have you made a habit of borrowing the Royal Family’s authority for private advantage in other instances?”
“No, no! It was just that one time, just the once, I swear I’ve never done anything like it since!”
Bianca protested her innocence vehemently.
In the same instant, the Duke’s face drained of all color.
His daughter had effectively confessed.
“So you actually did threaten him, then?”
“You used your connection to the Royal Family as leverage to pressure Marquis Zaherette?”
“And the Marquis himself said it was a social dispute, didn’t he? Which means—”
The situation inverted in an instant.
“Crown Princess. What are you waiting for? Apologize to the Marquis at once.”
“I, I… um.”
Pressed by the Princess’s demand, Bianca floundered helplessly.
Her white-knuckled grip tightened around the hem of her elaborate dress.
“I’m… sorry. Marquis.”
The words barely crawled from her throat.
It was painfully obvious she was forcing out an apology against every instinct.
“I accept your apology.”
“Then I’ll take my leave—”
“Oh, one more thing.”
I stopped Bianca just as she was turning to escape this gathering altogether.
“There’s someone else you owe an apology to, isn’t there? County Lady Merciel—you publicly humiliated her that day, and I’d very much like to see you apologize for that as well.”
“I beg your pardon?!”
Bianca shot back at Isabel with a sharp edge to her voice.
Her gaze locked on Isabel as she bit down hard on her crimson lips—as though that alone were a line she would never cross, not even in death.
But then,
‘If you hate it, what difference does it make?’
Resisting will only hurt you in the end.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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