"It's truly a tragic affair, Father," Elaina said, staring coldly at Melvin, her expression unfathomably icy compared to her usual smile. "You ultimately have neither effective evidence nor witnesses, unlike Prince and myself." "Elaina!" The audacity of Sinclair’s brazen scheming was matched only by the sheer disbelief that Elaina had indeed betrayed him. How dare you! The wench! How dare you! Sparks flew from Melvin's eyes as he glared at Elaina. "It seems the conversation is over, Melvin," Sinclair chuckled as he joined in. "Edenbell has some very interesting laws, especially concerning royalty."

"Your Highness, this is a misunderstanding! I swear I had no such intentions...!" "Shall I order the death penalty? All of it." The faces around Aswell turned deathly pale, all except Elaina's. "Or perhaps, hanging?" Sinclair, much taller than Melvin, looked down at him. "It seems to me that you have some secret hobbies. Quite filthy and vile tastes." "Yes...?" "You look the part."

"Those who have indulged in all sorts of perverted tastes find immense thrill even as they are being strangled at the gallows," Sinclair continued, as if curious. "I've always wondered what face one would make at death to utter such things. Instead of a death cry, they reach a climax, perhaps?" Sinclair’s eyes twinkled with what seemed like scholarly curiosity. "But you, dear Melvin, might just satisfy my curiosity perfectly, wouldn't you?"

Despite the sinister words, Sinclair's voice carried a genuine mirth, and the atmosphere didn't become too heavy. The expressions mixed with disgust and fear of his madness were evident on the faces of those gathered. And Elaina, she just watched Sinclair silently, with a profoundly serene expression.

"I really... truly... It's unfair. There's some misunderstanding. No... I mean..." "Do you believe every word that this foolish, worthless girl says?!" Raila burst out unexpectedly. Despite her defiant demeanor, fear of Sinclair was inevitable. Yet, strangely, her fear was overshadowed by her reluctance to admit that she had been outdone by Elaina Aswell, of all people. Above all, her pride was wounded—Raila’s most important and inviolable treasure was her pride, specifically against Elaina.

"Raila!" Melissa screamed in horror, but Raila did not stop. "You boast as if you're something special, but it's all sophistry! Raised without proper education, what do you, a vulgar girl, know anyway!" "Stop it, Raila!" "Father even tried to send this girl to Duke Hank for the same reasons! No one else would take in someone as stupid and crippled as her!" "Really?" Sinclair chuckled in response. "If what you say is true, then Duke Hank must be a truly remarkable man, wouldn’t you agree?"

"Yes, Father knew that too, and that's why he was willing to send Elaina away! It wasn’t about selling her for a large sum of money!" "It seems a bit off-topic, but you make a valid point," Sinclair conceded, to Melvin's shaking hands. Sinclair Butler wasn’t one to make idle remarks, and Melvin knew it. "In that case, I’ll send my carriage to the great Duke Hank this time." Sinclair said, smiling nobly. "There’s someone who perfectly fits the criteria you just mentioned. Someone other than Elaina Aswell."

"What do you mean...?" "You." "…" "Raila Aswell." Raila looked bewildered, failing to grasp Sinclair’s meaning. "Stupid, vulgar, and frivolous. Plus, in my view, there seems to be something wrong here." Sinclair tapped his temple with his index finger. "Since Duke Hank is so remarkable, your father should be able to send you off without worry, right?" "That... that's..."

"How about it, Melvin? Sounds quite appealing, doesn’t it?" "…" "And thinking it over again, sentencing you to death or hanging might have been a bit premature." Melvin was lost for rhythm, his gaze clouded with confusion as Sinclair continued, smirking. "As I said before, such an execution would provide you with the greatest ecstasy, all without any cost." "Yes...?"

"So, I’ve changed my mind." A sinister silence fell. In that quiet, Sinclair slowly reached out and grabbed Melvin by the collar. Melvin, small and pudgy like a plump rat, couldn’t even struggle properly as he was lifted into the air. Sinclair, holding Melvin with one hand, spoke in a toneless voice. "Preserve your life, but make it painfully long." "Gr...ugh..."

"It’s more fun that way, right?" Sinclair grinned, seemingly pleased. "But you needn't worry too much about Raila Aswell. I've decided to grant her a very large favor." Soon, Sinclair's gaze shifted to Raila. "Regardless of your parents' fate, you'll become the seventh wife of the greatly esteemed Duke Hank. I promise you that, quite definitively." Raila, caught in her own schemes, let out a choked gasp. "This should make for a happy ending for everyone, right, Melvin?"

"Your Highness!" Melissa fell to her knees and burst into tears, as she stood dumbfounded.

"I'm sorry. I dared to engage in such foolish acts without understanding the situation," Melissa pleaded like a fly, her hands clasped together desperately. "I will accept any punishment willingly. So please... just spare Raila..."

"Really? You want Raila to be sent as a concubine to Duke Hank?" "No! That's not what I mean!" Tears welled up in Melissa's excessively large eyes, making her speech almost incoherent. "I can't send Raila... to such a place..."

"Forgive me... please forgive me... I will spend my life making amends, truly sincerely..." However, Sinclair's response was nothing but icy. Realizing this, Melissa quickly changed her target. She crawled like a dog toward Elaina, who stood watching, and began to beg, grasping at Elaina's damaged leg. "Elaina... please... forgive me..."

"You must have many grievances against us. No matter how long it takes... I will apologize until you can accept it. I truly mean it. So..."

But Melissa could not finish her words. A sudden loud thud from behind stopped her. It was the sound of Sinclair slamming Melvin against the wall. "Uh... ugh..." Melvin, whose head burst open upon hitting the wall, groaned and clutched his head, but his pathetic attempt was short-lived due to Sinclair grabbing his hair forcefully.

"You saw that, Melvin," Sinclair said, glaring murderously at him, the earlier smile nowhere to be found, only a sharp, angry menace. "This is what you need to be doing. Crawling like a dog, begging like a fly."

"Uh..." "Before I run out of patience with your insane nonsense." "..." "Shall I just cut off all your limbs and crush you until you're unrecognizable?" ...As you know, it’s something I’m quite confident in. Sinclair’s golden eyes flickered ominously.

And Melvin instinctively realized. The only thing left for him to do, the only thing he must do. "Apologies..." Melvin bowed his head deeply, his voice weak as if uttering his last words. "I apologize... Your Highness..."

"..." "Everything Your Highness said is correct... I dared, without understanding my place, to engage in such acts... knowing full well that Elaina was to become the princess consort..."

Melvin sobbed. "And El, Elaina. I’m truly so... sorry..."

As soon as Melvin finished, Sinclair stood up. "From today, confine them all in the mansion, Schuler." He then turned to Schuler and instructed, "They must not go anywhere or meet anyone without my permission. If they disobey my orders, cut off their heads right there. You understand what I mean."

"Yes." Schuler responded, and simultaneously, Sinclair strode over to Elaina.

Then he extended his hand to her. "Let's attend to our business now." [My knights will come to fetch us, you just need to know that. After all, we left things back at the mansion, didn't we?] Elaina belatedly realized what Sinclair meant by 'business.' She silently stared at the large hand extended towards her, speckled with Melvin’s blood. Sinclair Butler, the mad prince, the disgrace of Edenbell. An unkillable demon, no matter how cornered. Yet, regardless of his true intentions, he was the only one who had helped her—both during her abduction to the cursed Duke Hank's household and in this very moment. Sinclair's blue eyes, filled with an oceanic depth, shimmered.

"Yes," she replied succinctly, slowly extending her hand. "Let's do that, Sinclair." And with that, she took his hand. Titles dropped, their familiarity subtly deepened, and Sinclair smiled. Together, they began walking towards the mansion, adjusting his pace to match Elaina’s slower, limping steps.

Thus, Elaina walked unhesitatingly, albeit with a limp. She stepped over Raila, bound and prone, crushed the expensive hem of Melissa's dress, and tread upon the puddles of Melvin’s blood.