MGN | Chapter 22

“What’s all that about?”

“A gift. Remember when I said I wished you could get married too? Since I wouldn’t have a real family once I left, His Highness the Hereditary Prince remembered and said that!”

“So… His Highness the Grand Duke won’t use his veto on the law anymore?”

“Yep! It’s a gift!”

No matter how influential a family is in a country, changing a nation’s law as a wedding gift for the eldest son seemed absurd.

‘Is the law a joke?’

I was more dumbfounded than happy. In modern society, is it really reasonable for a constitutional monarchy to have a royal veto?

‘And to offer something this big as a wedding gift for the eldest son?’

I couldn’t purely rejoice and believe it. There must be something else they’re trying to cover up with this news. Like some of the reckless things the Grand Duke’s sons said leaking out.

“Aren’t you happy? You can have a real family too, oppa. Don’t you like it?”

Manon noticed my expression wasn’t great. Even if this didn’t align with Maël’s beliefs, he couldn’t ignore her goodwill in sharing the joy.

After all, it was good news on a good day. With that thought, Maël lifted the corners of his mouth.

“It’s just sudden. Of course, I’m happy. It’s amazing that this happened for your wedding.”

“Right? When you get married to someone great, I’ll help make it the best wedding ever. Really. Okay?”

Manon’s cheeks turned rosy. Her expectant gaze made me wonder if she still thought Maël should reunite with Charles, but he pretended not to notice and spoke to the person in the front seat.

“You can turn off the radio now. I have something to look at.”

There was something more important than a gift that didn’t feel real, especially without a partner. Maël pulled out the half-opened prenuptial agreement.

Checking if there were any changes, if the names were correct. After confirming, he’d hand it to Manon for her signature and ask for a copy after the wedding.

Nothing should be difficult. It should have been.

But expectations were miserably off.

“Why is this…?”

Inside the envelope, the prenuptial agreement decorated with the Grand Duke’s emblem was entirely different from the one checked just yesterday.

“Hold on.”

No, to be precise, it was exactly the same as the very first prenuptial agreement sent from the Grand Ducal Palace before negotiations began.

Clauses about violence, infidelity, financial compensation based on the child’s gender, and post-birth ‘management’ for maintaining dignity were still there. The mention of property division added at the end was gone.

‘Was it misdelivered again?’

Dozens of negotiation drafts were exchanged via email. Even if it was right before the wedding, this could still be a mistake.

Flip, flip.

With a glimmer of hope that it was a mistake, Maël’s hand stopped as he turned the pages. He found a clause slightly changed from before.

[Prohibiting the disclosure of specific information to third parties other than the attorney, with legal action possible for violations.]

Financial information, business information, detailed marriage information, and details of the prenuptial agreement itself.

The issue was the personal information section. Previously, it vaguely mentioned medical records and family history, but now it wasn’t.

[Details of past relationships]

That one phrase was added.

‘They’re trying to shut me up about the crap Philippe pulled before.’

The confidentiality clause ended with a space for signatures.

Manon Juliette Montmatier. Her name was perfectly written without any issues. On the next page, and the one after that.

And next to Manon’s name, under Philippe Louis Leopold de Broglie, was a stylish signature with dried ink.

This was the final prenuptial agreement they sent. A bomb, a trap sent to the bride heading to the wedding.

“Do I just sign here?”

“No, you can’t.”

I couldn’t hand over the pen. While Manon, tilting her head, took the prenuptial agreement to read, Maël pulled out his phone and pressed the call button.

“Mr. Bernardi. Manon can’t sign the prenuptial agreement you sent. You know why.”

His eyes burned with anger. Forget pleasantries. It was a miracle he was still being polite. His voice trembled.

― Oh dear. What are you saying, Attorney Montmatier, with the wedding just three hours away?

“Exactly as I said, are you pulling this stunt three hours before the wedding?”

― Are you planning to call off the engagement now? Our client also has no intention of proceeding with the ceremony without the prenuptial agreement.

“Great. We’re on the same page. Driver, please stop the car here.”

Maël said that and pressed the end call button.

The driver didn’t stop the car. As he was about to ask again, Manon interrupted.

“Oppa, did they change everything? Did they do this on purpose, printing the names like that now?”

Dressed like a princess from the last page of a fairy tale, Manon spoke with a distorted face. The woman in the front seat handed over a phone.

“His Highness Prince Philippe wishes to speak with Ms. Montmatier.”

“Don’t answer it. Manon, let’s just go home.”

Maël said, and Manon couldn’t respond. On what should have been the happiest day, with a face shattered into a thousand pieces, she looked at Maël.

As Manon just stared at the phone, the protocol officer connected the call to the car’s Bluetooth. Philippe’s voice soon echoed through the large car.

― Manon. It’s just… paperwork. Simple paperwork.

“Just paperwork? Philippe, does that make sense? Why are you doing this with just paperwork, making fools of us? How much have oppa and Diane and everyone been through because of our prenuptial agreement…!”

― I know. But it’s really… really stupid and meaningless. I love you. I’ll make sure you never cry… and what’s there is just traditional. My mom signed the same thing. You saw, they’re doing well…

If it was truly meaningless paperwork, there was no need for them to act this way. Knowing it didn’t make sense, Philippe desperately pleaded.

At Manon’s questioning gaze, Maël shook his head.

With no response, Philippe breathed heavily and pleaded.

― We promised to live happily with the baby, didn’t we? I’ll only look at you. I didn’t want to sign that either. It’s a formal tradition, but if I cared about that, would I marry you?

At the mention of the baby, Manon looked at her belly. Like a dreadful curse hidden beneath layers of white, lovely lace. Philippe’s voice ominously pleaded in the car.

― Everyone’s waiting for you… My parents, Felix, the people of Monaco. What if you don’t come? What about… our baby? The gift my father promised?

“…Hang up, Philippe. It’s hard to hear your voice right now, please, please hang up.”

― I don’t want to hang up. Remember, we promised to be a good family, my love.

Spewing nonsense about love, Philippe didn’t hang up. Maël’s silence, without interrupting, was the result of biting his teeth to the very end.

That was the limit.

Thud.

Maël unbuckled his seatbelt, stood up, and reached out. Without giving the woman in the front seat a chance to stop him, he pressed the end call button. Only then did a suffocating silence fill the car.

The bell rang again, and Maël warned.

“If you answer that, I’ll take Manon and jump out of the car right here.”

The sedan was already leaving Nice, heading along the coastline to Monaco. Outside the window, the sunlit sea was blue.

“Manon, it’s better to turn the car around before entering Monaco.”

At those words, the protocol officer turned his head. But Maël didn’t care.

Four escort vehicles surrounded the car. If they didn’t turn it around, he was ready to grab his sister and jump out as he warned.

As he fumbled for the door handle without taking his eyes off the front seat.

Manon, who had been silently staring out the window, reached out to Maël.

“Oppa, give me the pen.”