In the Doghouse - Chapter 115
Courtney yanked at Richard’s cravat ruffles, her voice sharp as she pressed him again.
“Besides being cousins, what other kind of relationship do you have?”
There it was—the core of the issue.
Now, Richard had truly reached the moment of decision. Which side would he choose, the divine or the devilish? He agonized over a decision that, in reality, should have been easy.
If he answered that they had no special relationship, his path to heaven would be assured. Tonight, on the last day of the Harvest Festival, they could go ahead with their original plan of a delightful evening together.
But if he answered honestly, he might witness a side of Courtney he had never seen before—a side consumed by jealousy and anger. Worse yet, if he was unlucky, she might shut him out, just as she had in the early days of their marriage, only this time for a much longer, more painful period.
Betting on a losing hand makes one a fool, but tossing away your cards out of fear makes one a coward.
In the end, Richard decided to go all-in, gambling on the slim possibility of a different outcome.
“We were… engaged.”
The response was far more shocking than Courtney had anticipated. Betrayal surged from deep within her chest, and her hand, gripping his cravat, trembled slightly.
“And… you were laughing and chatting with her, arm-in-arm, while I was right there?”
The trivial scene she had glimpsed earlier now inflated like a snowball as it tumbled from her lips. Richard, instead of correcting her exaggeration, offered a response that only served to deepen her misunderstanding.
“We’re just like siblings. She used to stay at the palace for a long time, following the duchess.”
He intentionally left out several details. That the engagement had been more of a joke 14 years ago, that no one in the imperial family had ever taken it seriously, that the Duchess Herbert had long since annulled it due to his past scandals, and that the girl was only fourteen years old.
“Hah.”
Courtney let out a hollow laugh, utterly incredulous. She threw the cravat she had been clutching aside. As Richard adjusted the crumpled fabric, he continued speaking, unashamed.
“There’s really nothing to misunderstand. I’ve never seen her as a woman. Besides—”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
Saying ‘don’t misunderstand’ was practically the same as saying, ‘misunderstand all you want’. Courtney turned her head sharply away, her lashes still wet and trembling.
So she was going to shut him out after all. Richard bit the inside of his cheek in frustration. It was a shame, but there was no going back now. All he could do was beg for forgiveness until she relented.
Just as he was about to confess all the details he had left out, Courtney turned back toward him. Richard quickly closed his mouth, and she snapped at him.
“How am I supposed to believe you? No, why should I believe you?”
“Because… you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted…”
Courtney shoved him hard in the chest, though it was more symbolic than effective. This time, however, Richard allowed himself to be pushed back.
She leapt off the terrace railing, her formal shoes clicking sharply against the stone floor. When Richard reached out to help her, she coldly swatted his hand away. Her voice, colder than ever, sliced through the air.
“Why don’t you tell Lady Herbert that? Beg her to become your master, offer to lick her shoes. Or did you already ask, only to be told she doesn’t like disgusting perverts?”
“From the beginning to now, the only person I’ve ever wanted as my master is you, Courtney.”
His response was sincere, but all he got in return was a sarcastic scoff. After all, engagements and broken engagements were not uncommon in noble society. It wasn’t even considered a flaw, as people often sought the perfect match, even if it took several tries.
But Courtney couldn’t bear the thought. She had believed Richard was hers and hers alone, utterly and completely.
“Did you enjoy fooling me, pretending to be so clean and pure?”
“I wasn’t trying to deceive you…”
Courtney jabbed him in the chest with her finger, the tension between them thickening, like the calm before a storm. Richard, however, could sense something else—a darker, more twisted undercurrent mingled with the heavy atmosphere.
As Courtney stepped closer, Richard instinctively stepped back. His broad back hit the glass door of the terrace with a thud, shaking the curtains on the other side. The door remained securely shut, thanks to Anton’s vigilant efforts just outside, though Courtney had no idea of this. She pressed forward, fiercer than usual.
“So, you actually liked being called a male wh*re, didn’t you? Is that why? When you were surrounded by those women earlier, were you all excited, standing at attention?”
Behind the door, Anton inhaled sharply at the Crown Princess’s shocking words. He quickly clamped his hands over his ears. There was no way the Crown Prince hadn’t sensed his presence, given how sharp his instincts were, but Anton silently told himself he had heard nothing. Over and over, he repeated it in his mind.
Only once his aide had practically turned into a piece of furniture did Richard finally speak.
“The only time I get excited… is when I’m with you, Courtney.”
As he spoke, he swallowed hard, because Courtney’s hand had reached down, firmly grasping the front of his pants.
