A Summer With Bitter Rivals - Chapter 79

Chapter 79: Not Even for a Moment

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As soon as they were alone, Mathis let out a deep sigh while facing Zenon.

He glared at Zenon with clear displeasure. “Lord Zenon, have you met with Miss Emeline in my absence?”

“What do you mean by that?” Zenon tilted his head as if he had no idea what Mathis was talking about, then smiled innocently.

Mathis let out a short laugh. It seemed to him that Emeline’s gaze toward Zenon had changed in just the few days he had been away.

Mathis had definitely noticed the peculiar glances exchanged between them. He couldn’t take this situation lightly.

“At the very least, it seems one must be useful to be acknowledged.”

That was what Zenon had said to Emeline when they first met.

At the time, Mathis had dismissed it without much thought.

Moreover, when he compared himself to Zenon, he had believed that he was the better choice for Emeline Delzeier.

But recently, he had learned that Zenon Trancium had finally managed to wrest control of the bank from the marquis.

The previously conservative, marquis-owned bank had suddenly adopted an aggressive, bold strategy. Mathis had discovered this while investigating the market turmoil it had caused.

With the bank’s rapid ascent from below, the entire industry had been thrown into disarray. Even now, money and customers were flowing toward Zenon’s bank in real time.

No one could predict how long this momentum would last or how stable it would be, but there was no denying its threat.

Moreover, Zenon was also managing a secret business, one that remained undisclosed.

Mathis didn’t know exactly what it was, but given that it was entangled with the royal family, he could make an educated guess.

It was clear now—Zenon Trancium’s value had far surpassed his own.

Now that even the bank, which was supposed to be inherited by the marquis’ successor, had been handed over to Zenon, Mathis felt an even greater sense of defeat.

Pressing his temple with a throbbing headache, Mathis finally spoke, “Why Miss Emeline, of all people?”

Mathis needed Emeline Delzeier.

It wasn’t just because he had developed genuine feelings for her. More importantly, her royal bloodline and the prestige she could bring were of great value to him.

And now, an unforeseen obstacle had appeared.

“No matter how I think about it, I can’t understand. Why her?”

Their two families weren’t merely rivals—they were practically enemies.

Whenever Duke Delzeier and Marquis Trancium encountered each other at official functions, they would practically spit venom at each other in political debates.

And yet, their children supposedly harbored fond feelings for each other? It made no sense.

At first, Mathis had dismissed Zenon Trancium’s actions as mere mischief or petty amusement, but the more he thought about it, the clearer it became that this wasn’t the case. Zenon was serious.

Zenon, who had been silently watching the faint silhouette of a woman in the distance, finally answered.

“Who knows? Can one truly pinpoint a reason why a person becomes special to them?”

“In case you’ve forgotten, you’re already engaged.”

At Mathis’s quiet warning, Zenon couldn’t suppress a low chuckle.

Of course, he knew. Better than anyone.

He had a fiancée, and she had another fiancé.

“Lord Renier, to you, I must seem like an unwelcome intruder, but… I’ve always been here. Since long ago. If anything, it was you who came between us.”

“…Are you saying I’m the interloper here? How ridiculous.”

Mathis scowled. If anyone’s actions were causing disruptions to an engagement, it was clearly Zenon’s.

However, if Zenon’s words were to be believed, then there must have been something between him and Emeline in the past.

Once again, Mathis reaffirmed his decision—Zenon Trancium needed to be removed properly, or there would be serious consequences.

Even now, Zenon was barely paying attention to their conversation, his gaze fixed beyond Mathis’s shoulder.

Mathis, knowing exactly who was standing behind him, was just about to issue a final warning—

But before he could speak, Zenon cut him off.

“Do you know what Lady Delzeier truly loves?”

“…She loves books.”

“And do you understand her passion for them?”

At some point, Zenon had shifted his focus from Emeline and was now staring at Mathis with unwavering seriousness.

Taken aback by the unexpected question, Mathis found himself thinking about Emeline’s love for reading and her interests.

He had never once criticized her for her hobby. On the contrary, he had always encouraged her.

“Is that really important right now?”

Mathis frowned, sighing in frustration as he loosened his tie.

He felt like he was talking to a wall. Zenon Trancium was impossible to read, making the conversation seem utterly meaningless.

Mathis debated whether he should apply pressure on him by other means or find a way to keep Emeline away from him entirely.

There was no way he could let her turn toward someone like this.

“This is my final warning. I don’t know how deeply you feel for Miss Emeline, but… stop hovering around my fiancée. Act with common sense.”

“…Common sense.”

Zenon repeated the words slowly, as if savoring them, before letting out a crooked smile.

Mathis narrowed his eyes suspiciously. At that moment, Zenon’s expression betrayed a mix of emotions—an inexplicable agony and a sharp sense of self-mockery.

It was the first time Mathis had ever seen such clear emotions on his face, and it made him wary.

However, Zenon quickly erased his expression, as if sealing his emotions away. His voice, when he finally spoke again, carried an unmistakable dryness.

“Sorry, but that’s impossible. I have a promise to keep with Lady Delzeier, and I intend to see it through. No matter how I think about it, by your side, she…”

Zenon trailed off abruptly.

It happened the moment he glanced past Mathis’s shoulder.

His expression hardened in an instant. Just as Mathis was about to question him, Zenon shoved him aside and bolted.

His destination was clear—the base of the angel statue, where Emeline stood.

In the next fleeting moment, the precariously suspended statue plummeted from the ceiling.

Everything happened in an instant.

Before anyone could react, Zenon had already thrown himself beneath it.

He wrapped his arms around someone just as the sculpture came crashing down.

A deafening noise filled the exhibition hall, and a thick cloud of dust obscured the air, blinding everyone.

The shattered trumpet of the angel statue rolled miserably across the floor. Screams erupted from those nearby.

In the blink of an eye, chaos ensued.

“Haa…”

Zenon let out a ragged breath, his trembling hands searching for the small figure held tightly against him.

The moment he felt her warmth, he instinctively pulled her closer.

She was safe.

A piercing ringing filled his ears.

Ignoring the dull ache coursing through his body, Zenon finally managed to speak.

“Emeline…”

The woman in his arms, her eyes tightly shut, slowly opened them at the sound of his voice.

As she lifted her head, her wide blue eyes filled with shock.

“…Zenon?”

“I’m… glad you’re safe.”

Seeing her dazed expression, Zenon chuckled, despite the pain wracking his body.

It felt like he was watching a scene from the past. Emeline, always composed, only ever made such foolish expressions when she was with him.

Perhaps it was because he was drifting through memories that his consciousness began to wane. It felt like he was dreaming.

He knew it was a dangerous sign.

But the warmth in his arms was so precious that he had no desire to hold onto reality.

As his awareness faded, Zenon instinctively tightened his embrace around Emeline.

She squirmed in his hold, startled.

More than that, she seemed panicked—more frantic than even he was. Her voice, which he had longed to hear for the past four years, rang clearly in his ears.

Yet, strangely, it felt distant, so far away that he couldn’t make out the words.

Wanting to reassure her, Zenon weakly lifted his hand and patted her back.

His consciousness drifted further from reality.

And then, like an echo from the past, the conversation with Mathis resurfaced in his mind.

He had wanted to fulfill Emeline’s dream, just as he had promised her.

If her father opposed it, he had joked that he would kneel beside her and beg, even clutching the duke’s hem if necessary.

Mathis Renier had said it was foolish. If he followed common sense, he would know this was all ridiculous.

He remembered everything—how she had flaunted her perfect fiancé in front of him, how she had made a spectacle of herself.

And yet, Zenon let out a faint, bitter smile.

Emeline Delzeier.

How could I ever hate you?

Not even for a moment, have you ever been anything less than special to me.

How could I ever forget the promise I made to you?