How to Tame My Beastly Husband - Chapter 155

Raphael ran a hand over his face.

“She doesn’t believe I love her,” he said. “And she thinks His Majesty hates her. Why would she think that?”

Hamilton’s answer was very slow.

“…I see. It is certainly strange.”

Raphael found this unsatisfactory. They had known each other a long time, and understood each other very well. Though he couldn’t guess everything Hamilton knew as an agent in the intelligence service, Raphael could make guesses.

“You’re so quiet all of the sudden, old man,” he remarked. “A little suspicious.”

“Perhaps. But instead of imagining strange things, why don’t you finish your story. What did Lady Annette do after your confession?”

He was trying to sound casual, and usually it would have worked; Raphael was significantly lacking in social skills and was generally easy to deceive. But not this time. He sensed there was something important here, and like any beast, he sank his teeth in and held on tight. Some instinct was jangling a warning.

“Tell me what you know, old man,” he ordered, frowning. “Is it true? Does His Majesty hate her?”

But Hamilton only stuffed another slice of smoked ham into his mouth, with a stare at Raphael as if he had no idea why he was asking the question. It only incensed Raphael.

“Tell me!” He leaned forward, looming. “Why would my father have a problem with her? He was the one that ordered me to marry her in the first place. What’s he scheming?”

Hamilton said nothing. As if Raphael were invisible, he lifted a glass, the pumpkin-colored liquid draining. Raphael’s heart pounded. It seemed Hamilton had no intention of explaining anything, and so Raphael threw out his own possibilities, to see if any conjecture struck a reaction.

“Is it her family? Are the Bavarias a problem for the royal family? Did Duke Bavaria do something underhanded? There is no reason to cause trouble with them otherwise. Annette wouldn’t hurt an ant if she could help it.”

“It’s true that Lady Annette may be harmless. But if you factor her father into the equation, that changes the answer,” said Hamilton, finally setting his glass down. It was a very vague answer, as if he were reluctant to say anything at all.

“Of course Duke Bavaria is an asshole. Even if he is my father-in-law, I won’t argue it. But isn’t the support of Bavaria necessary for Deltium? That is an old family, and they are leaders among the nobles.”

“Someone must represent the nobles, it is true,” Hamilton agreed. “They are the main power in the kingdom. But that representative doesn’t have to be Duke Bavaria, does it?”

“…why do you say that?” Raphael asked. “Are you implying it would be better if it was another family?”

But it seemed that was the limit Hamilton was willing to reveal. His lips curved in a little smile under his perfectly groomed mustache, and Raphael knew the second he saw it that Hamilton knew a great deal more than he was saying.

Raphael was the one who knew nothing. As if he were blind.

“In other words, His Majesty is planning to crush the Bavarias,” he said, tenacious.

“How would I know? Back off, you’re blocking the light.”

Hamilton shoved the determined Raphael aside, as if he were shouldering a big hound out of the way. But that wasn’t enough to quench Raphael. On the contrary, he only propped his feet up on Hamilton’s armrest, blocking his escape.

“You know I have a temper,” he growled. “If you want me to let you go, tell me quickly. Do you still think you’re the King’s right hand even after you’ve retired? You should think again. Things have changed.”

“You rotten little punk! How dare you? Get out of my way, boy,” Hamilton snapped, brandishing his cane, and Raphael was forced to retreat. Hamilton had been watching over him since he was a child, and he had never once cursed at him. On the contrary, he had always been lenient, because he pitied him for the neglect and abuse he had suffered.

With his mouth firmly shut, Hamilton rose, intending to leave at once. Of course, he was hurt by Raphael’s threats, but the questions he was asking were far too dangerous. Yes, it was true he was retired, but he had been part of the King’s inner circle. He could not answer these questions.

“Where do you think you’re going? You’re not leaving until you answer.”

But Hamilton had underestimated Raphael’s determination. The younger man effortlessly propelled him into the wall, and one heavy fist struck right next to Hamilton’s head.

Hamilton’s eyes widened. Trapped, his pupils trembled violently.

Hamilton’s pupils, which now he could not go anywhere, trembled violently.

“You ungrateful bastard!”