A Gamble Called Marriage - Chapter 17

Chapter 17

 

The sound of high heels echoed through the corridor.

 

Even without turning his head, Mael recognized the voice, and the rose scent that grew stronger with every step confirmed it.

 

Mael said nothing until the man stood before him. Yves Valois, dressed in monochrome that clashed completely with the overly bright and cheerful family portrait, stood there.

 

“You’re good at swearing when you’re alone.”

 

Mael didn’t even bother to look up, staring instead at his own feet. Only when he deemed it impolite to ignore further did he lift his head and greet him formally.

 

“What brings you here, Yves?”

 

“The prince summoned me.”

 

“…I don’t understand why you’re so close to him. If you ever feel betrayed later, it won’t do you any good either.”

 

“Is that legal advice?”

 

Did one need a law degree to offer that kind of common-sense advice? Holding back his inner thoughts, Mael curtly replied.

 

“I’m not your lawyer yet.”

 

Their rescheduled consultation was set for the day after tomorrow. The retainer agreement hadn’t even been signed yet. Despite the clear boundary, Yves stared at Mael briefly before speaking slowly.

 

“Betrayal isn’t the issue. The bare minimum to make them accept me without fear—well, you’d know, considering you’ve been confessed to.”

 

Mael had studied history, naturally including the lineage of the grand duchy where he lived. He was aware that a bastard’s son ascended to the throne just two generations ago.

 

“I can guess.”

 

After his own outburst, when his head cooled, Mael had pieced things together. Understanding the necessary circumstances and connecting the logic wasn’t difficult.

 

An illegitimate child capable of leaving heirs was a risk.

 

It wasn’t just to taunt Mael. Yves claimed he was gay to involve the grand duke in the lawsuit, then confessed to Mael with his notion of “suitability” after their previous melodrama.

 

Did he really need to be this cautious? Honestly, Mael couldn’t understand it at all.

 

“And?”

 

Yves seemed to imply there was more.

 

‘What could possibly come next?’

 

Mael struggled under Yves’ unyielding gaze, which hadn’t left him for a moment. Pretending not to notice, Yves threw out a casual remark.

 

“Mael Munmatié isn’t a lawyer who dedicates himself entirely to his clients, is he?”

 

“…What did you just say?”

 

“The poor Cinderella is hoping for the knight’s help.”

 

Mael’s eyebrows knit together instinctively. The devil of a man, who just referred to himself as Cinderella, followed with a mocking tone.

 

“I never got your answer back then.”

 

“Answer to what?”

 

Wasn’t his behavior back then a clear gesture of rejection? How could he bring up the lack of an answer now and spout nonsense about ethics and devotion?

 

Mael loathed him.

 

Every time he interacted with Yves, his temper flared. He was about to tell him to stop the nonsense and find another actor or hire someone when another voice interrupted.

 

“Mael!”

 

The voice belonged to another person Mael would have preferred not to encounter.

 

Clenching his teeth tightly, Mael didn’t bother to respond, but Charles quickly approached, placing a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Today’s the day Manon signs the prenuptial agreement, right? I saw Dad leave after taking a call from Crua. I guess they’re wrapping it up. Oh, by the way, did you get the bracelet I sent?”

 

What was it with this family and casually touching other people’s shoulders?

 

Instead of answering, Mael merely glanced at the offending hand. Charles, still glaring at Yves, didn’t even notice.

 

If he had known he’d run into Charles, Mael would’ve brought the bracelet with him. Charles, oblivious, continued to ramble.

 

“Felix called me about Only Watch and the Grand Prix. I turned around on a whim, and here we are. Guess we’re fated to meet. Want to come with me? Felix seems to be misunderstanding something.”

 

Mael couldn’t care less about Felix or misunderstandings. All he wanted was to escape this suffocating situation. He shook off the hand on his shoulder.

 

Finally, Charles stopped his one-sided battle of wits and turned to Mael. With a voice deeper than necessary, he said,

 

“I know how you feel.”

 

“Know how I feel?”

 

“Mael, I must’ve made you feel lonely. My past mistakes and all. I understand why you were so angry, why you wanted to humiliate me as revenge. I get it all.”

 

What could he possibly understand? Mael’s gaze turned icy.

 

Yet Charles, grabbing Mael’s hand, took a deep breath and said,

 

“Let’s make it public. I’m not ashamed of us dating, not one bit. I won’t hide it anymore. I love you, Mael.”

 

While Charles may not have been ashamed, Mael wished the ground would swallow him whole.

 

Someone had witnessed this pathetic scene.

 

And that someone just happened to be Yves Valois, who had already seen a similar spectacle.

 

As if that wasn’t enough, Yves was now watching this ridiculous scenario unfold with a blank expression.

 

“This jackpot isn’t enough to cover the price of admission.”

 

Yves’ casual remark made Mael’s ears burn.

 

Meanwhile, Charles, who was still preoccupied with Yves instead of Mael, clenched his jaw.

 

“What are you talking about…?”

 

“Brother!”

 

As if on cue, the door swung open.

 

The first person to emerge from the stifling air was Manon.

 

“How was it?”

 

Finally standing up, Mael brushed past the two men and stood in front of his sister. Despite having only stepped into the room briefly, Manon was trembling as she clutched the original copy of the prenuptial agreement and bit her lip.

 

“Well, it’s…”

 

“The contract was exactly as we reviewed. No changes, and everything was signed properly. Isn’t it obvious, considering how quickly it was done?”

 

Manon seemed to have something to say, but Antoine, who followed behind, skillfully cut her off.

 

He, too, held a document in his hand, prompting Mael to speak.

 

“That’s a copy, correct? Please hand it over so I can review it and store it in the archive.”

 

“Oh, come on, Munmatié. You’ve wrapped up a big project today; you should take a break. Even Diane said not to overwork you. I’m heading to the office anyway, so I’ll handle it. You should clock out now.”

 

Antoine smiled magnanimously, his expression eerily similar to that of his son beside him.

 

Mael was about to agree when Philippe emerged from the room with his lawyer, Bernard. After dismissing Bernard with a tilt of his head, Philippe put an arm around Manon’s waist and looked around.

 

“What’s everyone doing here? Charles… and Yves?”

 

“The Crown Prince summoned me.”

 

Charles’s reply caused Philippe to twist his lips briefly. Without further questioning, Philippe turned to his fiancée and said,

“Let’s go… Manon. You look like you need some rest.”

 

Manon hesitated, then asked as if seeking permission,

“Brother, I’ll take a nap here and head home later. Philippe said he made a dinner reservation at a restaurant to celebrate finishing all this. Is that okay? Oh, but I didn’t bring my car…”

 

“Sounds fun. Don’t worry about me; I’ll manage on my own.”

 

Though not officially, Manon already had rooms she shared with Philippe within this seven-hundred-year-old palace, as well as a space she could call her own. The same was true outside the palace. It had essentially been a semi-cohabitation arrangement since their engagement was discussed, and Manon was well past the age of needing permission. Her question was simply out of consideration.

 

“Make sure to keep the original copy of the contract safe. Losing it would be a big problem.”

 

When Mael added this reminder, Manon, who had looked as though she had something to say, simply smiled and waved.

 

Pre-nuptial agreements, though varying by country, often represented the raw reality of marriage and could serve as obstacles during the process. Usually, the wealthier party proposed them, and the crux was almost always the same: ensuring that their share of the assets would remain intact in case of divorce. It wasn’t the kind of document anyone would feel good receiving.

 

Yet, despite wishing for the breakup, this couple had managed to overcome even that hurdle. Mael, who had helped facilitate it, felt a pang of bitterness as a deep voice addressed him.

 

“Mr. Munmatié, are you heading straight home to rest?”

 

“Ah, yes, I believe I should.”

 

“I’ll drive you.”

 

The confession earlier must have left Charles feeling particularly regretful, as he butted into Antoine’s conversation with Mael. Stroking his beard, Antoine alternated his gaze between Mael and his son, while Charles solemnly declared,

“Father, I assume you’ve heard rumors and might have guessed. Those rumors are true. I’m in a serious relationship with Mael. Even if you disapprove, I don’t care.”

 

“Well… what I heard from Mr. Munmatié is a bit different. Whatever the case, this isn’t the place for such discussions. Let’s talk later.”

 

Once again, the grand confession failed to leave any significant impression on anyone.

 

“I’ll be on my way. You’ve done well today.”

 

At Antoine’s farewell, Mael bowed his head. Watching the older man leave, Charles reached for Mael’s hand.

 

“You’re not bothered by my father’s reaction, are you? I can take you home.”

 

“Didn’t you come here to see the Crown Prince?”

 

Mael said as he withdrew his hand, leaving Charles’s hanging in the air, his face slightly awkward. Charles had no choice but to cater to Felix, the one person he couldn’t disobey.

 

“That’s, uh, true. Then… shall we go together?”

 

“Go with Mr. Valois. He said he was summoned by the Crown Prince too.”

 

If only they could disappear together. The annoyance behind Mael’s suggestion was clear, causing Yves to chuckle lightly. That laughter sparked a flame in Charles’s pale blue eyes, twisting his lips and raising his voice.

 

“Mael, think about it. Even if we were both summoned, how could I go with some parvenu whose origins are questionable? He and I are in entirely different leagues!”

 

Parvenu. In other words, nouveau riche, upstart, or social climber. A derogatory term spoken in front of the person in question.

 

Though the words weren’t directed at him, Mael clenched his teeth against the rush of shame that surged to his ears.

 

“Just stop it already!”

 

“Huh? What?”

 

“It’s already humiliating enough being associated with you!”

 

Though Yves hadn’t stopped smiling, it was Mael who spat out the words like venom.