Chapter 72: An Accusation (1)

"Yes, my Lord!" The soldiers replied in unison.

Without wasting a moment, they rushed out to track down the culprit behind the sneak attack on Nina.

Watching them leave, Orlan shook his head in frustration.

Damn it... This was completely unexpected. If only I’d acted faster, Nina wouldn’t have died so easily... and I could’ve extracted some crucial information from her,

he muttered irritably.

He was convinced that Nina wasn’t the only one involved—his instincts screamed there was a mastermind behind her. That was why her death brought him no satisfaction.

The real perpetrator was still hiding in the shadows.

And after this incident, that person would no doubt become even more vigilant and harder to catch.

Tracking them down would be a difficult—if not impossible—task.

"Father..." Alicia’s soft, anxious voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

Orlan turned to see his daughter’s teary eyes, wide with worry.

His angry expression softened unconsciously, replaced by a gentle warmth.

"Don’t worry, I’m fine," he said gently, reaching out to softly rub her head. "I’m sorry for making you suffer all this time, dear. If I hadn’t been so careless, none of this would’ve happened."

Ever since learning that Alicia’s curse had been secretly placed on her at birth, a heavy sense of guilt had taken root in Orlan’s heart.

Had he been more cautious—had he not killed the Black Mages so quickly without investigating further—his family might never have been placed in such danger.

And now that Nina was dead, another perpetrator—or perhaps an even greater mastermind—was still out there, lurking in the shadows.

It gnawed at his heart, and he knew he would never find peace... not until every last one of them was brought to justice.

"No, Father. I don’t blame you. In fact... I’m the one who should apologize." Alicia looked down sadly, her small hands clenched tightly together.

"If I hadn’t existed, you would have—"

"Alicia!"

Before she could finish, Orlan cut her off with a sharp shout, making her flinch.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, emotions stirring within him. But after a few seconds, he drew in a deep breath and slowly calmed himself.

Then, crouching down, he wrapped his arms around his daughter.

"Don’t ever say that again, okay?" He whispered gently, rubbing her back with care. "You are the most precious treasure your mother and I have. Without you... our lives would be empty. Do you understand?"

His words were like a breeze that gently swept away the guilt in Alicia’s heart.

Tears welled up in her eyes before spilling down her cheeks as she hugged Orlan tightly.

"Thank you, Father," she whispered through her sobs, burying her face in his embrace.

Meanwhile, Nolan, who had been watching everything from a distance, could only let out a silent sigh.

"How sad," he murmured under his breath.

Alicia was only six years old, yet she had already endured so many harsh trials.

She hadn’t matured early by choice—but because life had forced her to.

It was a harsh reminder that being born into a noble or wealthy family wasn’t always a blessing. Sometimes, it could be a burden—or even a curse.

Just like him—born into the prestigious Frey family in his previous life.

Instead of enjoying a carefree childhood like other kids, he had been forced to follow a rigid schedule filled with things he never wanted: piano lessons, foreign languages, endless assignments from private tutors, and more.

To outsiders, it might have looked like paradise.

But was it? Of course not.

He hated it—never having the freedom to express himself or show his parents what he truly cared about.

It was... incredibly frustrating.

"Are you okay, Nolan? Did Nina poison you badly?"

Jisha’s worried voice came from his right.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Nolan turned to see the concern on her beautiful, gentle face.

"I’m fine," he replied calmly, brushing off the dust from his robe. "You don’t need to worry so much."

Noticing his indifferent and arrogant attitude, Jisha puffed out her cheeks in frustration.

"Humph! You’re so annoying!" she huffed, folding her arms across her ample chest. "I was actually worried about you, you know? But you just brushed it off like it was nothing! So cold and ungrateful! Now I’m convinced... all those rumors about you are true! You arrogant prince! Humph! Humph! Humph!"

Nolan: "..."

He let out a long, tired sigh. "Alright, I admit it—I was wrong. I’m sorry."

Jisha’s expression froze. She turned her head sharply, staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

"Wait—what did you just say? Say that again, I didn’t catch it!" She exclaimed, leaning in eagerly with her ears perked up.

It was the first time this infuriating man had ever apologized to her.

It felt like witnessing a miracle.

The corner of Nolan’s lips twitched as he watched her reaction.

Then, a mischievous idea crossed his mind. A faint—and slightly unsettling—smile curled on his face.

He leaned in close, bringing his lips near Jisha’s ear, and whispered softly, "What I just said was..."

Jisha trembled with excitement, nearly bouncing on her feet. She had waited so long for this moment!

But the words that followed lit a fire in her veins.

"You’re really short, Jisha. It’s like all the nutrients you eat skip your bones and go straight to... other places."

"Argh!" Jisha let out a cry of outrage, her face turning bright red.

Her eyes blazed with fury as she pointed an accusing finger at him.

"Nolan Lorian, I swear—I will defeat you!" She shouted and charged at him.

But Nolan was ready. He took a step back and calmly placed one hand on her forehead.

"Ahhh!" Jisha flailed with both arms, but her punches fell short.

Her short arms couldn’t even reach his robe.

"You smelly jerk!" She snapped. "You only act tough when it’s against a girl! I’ll beat you up! Uwaaah!"

Nolan laughed heartily at her reaction. Grinning, he taunted, "You’re still a hundred years too early to beat me, short Jisha."

His words sent her rage through the roof.

But before things could spiral out of control, Orlan cleared his throat loudly and stepped in, pulling Jisha back.

She was still trying to lunge at Nolan, but Orlan held her firmly.

"Ahem! Jisha, Prince Nolan... please don’t fight," he said in a measured tone. "You’re both people of status. If the servants or guards see this, it might spark unwanted rumors."

Upon hearing that, both Nolan and Jisha snapped back to their senses.

They turned their heads and noticed a few remaining servants and soldiers watching them with awkward, puzzled expressions.

"Ahem!" Jisha quickly cleared her throat and tried to compose herself. "I’m sorry, Marquis Orlan. But this man—uh, I mean, Prince Nolan—is just so irritating! He teases me constantly, and I lost my temper."

She shot a sharp glare at Nolan, who continued acting as if he hadn’t heard a thing.

"This guy..." Jisha muttered through gritted teeth, but eventually took a deep breath and held herself back.

"Prince Nolan, are you alright?" Orlan asked with concern.

Nolan gave a calm smile and waved a hand casually. "I’m fine. There’s no need to worry."

Orlan let out a relieved sigh and returned the smile. "Thank goodness. And... thank you, Prince Nolan. At the very least, we’ve uncovered one of the perpetrators—though I suspect others are still hiding, and they’ll likely be much harder to track down. Still, I’m deeply grateful."

"It’s too soon to be thankful, Marquis Orlan," Nolan said, lightly shaking his head.

His smile deepened with quiet confidence as he added, "The real perpetrator is still out there. So... let’s draw them out."

Orlan stood stunned by the remark, but before he could react, Nolan had already stepped forward and, without hesitation, took the sword from his hand.

"Prince Nolan?" Orlan instinctively moved to stop him—but froze when he saw the prince now standing in front of Melissa, the sword’s tip pointed at her chin.

"Melissa..." Nolan said, his gaze sharp, a cold smile playing at the edge of his lips.

"Will you confess now, or... do I have to make you?"