I Don’t Want to Be Loved (Web Novel)
chapter-70

Chapter 70: Public Disgrace

“I understand that feeling, though I hope we’d not need to pour our hearts to our enemies which are the most important things to us Arundelites and Chrichtonites. We are the only heirs of the ancient kingdom, after all.”

Lisaa was a fallen ancient empire that once flourished for thousands of years. Their blossoming knowledge and splendid invention spread to neighboring countries only to collapse from the invasion of nomadic tribes, proceeding to call themself an empire using Lisaa’s inheritance thereafter. But regardless, both Arundell and Chrichton remained the most prominent inheritor of Lisaa’s culture and knowledge. The two kingdoms would band together to confront said fledgling empire while despising one another and calling the opposite side barbarians.

“It’s not the time to fight against Chrichton. Our ultimate enemy is the Toulouse Empire.”

“Your Majesty, the king is a bit too young, and if anything, a bit reckless to make any decision as of current…”

Their logic and rationale always came to the final conclusion – Igor was young and ignorant of the ways of the world.

Igor, who was present at the meeting, opened his mouth but his mother the queen interjected and said, “I spoke of this issue with Queen Rihannan yesterday. She held the same concern as I did and requested that I act in our kingdom’s best interest. Isn’t that right, queen?”

The late queen looked at Rihannan. Igor, too, stared at her stiffly. Rihannan’s face turned pale at that moment. She quickly dodged Igor’s gaze and nodded softly. 

The Queen smiled victoriously.

‘So it’s like that…’ Igor thought.

The nobles gathered chuckled merrily and sympathized with the late queen. When the late queen held her glass suit, the nobles followed suit in unison. This act was a clear indication of who the owner of this palace was.

Igor wore a bitter smile. He wasn’t angry, only chuckling at his own demise. This, too, was natural. Who would follow a king who’s wife even turned a blind eye to?

At the end of the banquet meeting, Igor got up and headed for his living quarters. As he walked down the hall, his wife ran after him.

“Your Majesty, hold on…”

He looked back. A cold frown hung around his lips. “What? Do you have anything to say?”

She looked at him nervously, her lips quivering several times before bowing. “…..It’s too late, but thank you for the last time. I haven’t had a chance to tell you…”

“Last time?” 

“For covering up my father’s faults.”

‘…..This is the only reason you’ll talk to me properly?’

Igor scoffed. Even he had lingering regrets letting her father’s wrongdoings go unnoticed. 

“Are you done talking?”

She flinched at his cold response. She opened her lips and clasped her skirt tightly and said, “The truth is… there’s also something I want to tell you about what Her Majesty, the Queen, said earlier…”

“You don’t need to make excuses. I know exactly what you’re thinking. I’ve asked you this before: whose side are you on? And so far, you’ve shown me that you’d rather remain at her side,” he spat out coldly, “It’s clear now. I understand. You don’t need to tell me more.”

And he walked right past her. She quickly turned around and grabbed his hand, but Igor shook her off, a gesture that looked as if he had touched something dirty. 

He growled lowly, and said in disgust, “Do you know the kind of people I despise most? It’s not the coward nor the despicable but someone like you who says one thing but does another. That’s what you are. You insult me and now you want to remain on good amicable terms?”

Her face was drained of blood and color. She lowered her hands and dropped her head and said nothing more as she walked away from him.

The mouths of the nobles quickly moved. Rumors of the king’s cold treatment to his queen began to circulate in earnest from then on.

He knew that such public disgrace would leave her in a pitiful situation, but he was neither willing to take into account her circumstances for his pride had already been torn to shreds.

A long while later, he’d think back to those days and realize all too late that that was one of the most courageous acts she had done against the man, the husband she feared and whom she believed dearly was her tormentor every night.

What if he had held her hand then? What if he had buried his injured pride and listened to her? Would things end up differently? 

But there was no what if’s…

He should have looked into her past. Maybe he’d realize sooner that there was more than meets the eye.

They were so far apart. He believed one thing and she thought another. 

If only he had communicated with her… 

Maybe things would be… different.