Alpha's Rejected Mate Returns as Queen

I wasn’t familiar with Benson Walton at all. All I knew about him came from Selma’s calm retelling of her past and the cold, standard information she provided.

This was a man with a very divided life. For the first half of his life, he was arrogant and was a typical proud son of heaven. Then, the sudden turn in his life made him feel like he had fallen from a cliff and become a quiet and gloomy man. His interpersonal relationships were very simple. They were nothing more than his parents, teammates, and a few old friends from the past, although they had not been in contact much.

How could it not attract my attention for such a man to have such a soft and delicate girl on his resume?

Furthermore, this girl was the acting head servant of the palace. She was the only person other than Benson who could tamper with the wine without anyone noticing. To block the news, the palace had not taken any measures against the servants in charge of the deployment that day.

To a certain extent, Benson’s attitude determined how the girls would be treated. They would not be hurt. It was just the difference between a serious inquiry and a silent beating around the bush.

If he chose to hide it from Bertha, things would go in a direction that no one wanted to see.

The iron table in the interrogation room was cold, and the pale light reduced the uncomfortable temperature by several degrees.

Benson lowered his head and looked at the pile of materials, deep in thought. Five minutes had passed, and he still had no intention of speaking. I didn’t have that much time to waste on him.

It seemed that he had chosen the worst result.

I felt a little regretful, but at the same time, I felt even more frustrated. I didn’t need any more trouble to push my nerves to the limit.

Just a second before my patience ran out, Benson moved.

He patiently, almost stiffly, arranged the scattered materials in order until the slightly wrinkled paper formed a thin rectangular shape, then handed it to me.

“In my opinion, there are indeed a few people who are more suspicious.”

He spoke expressionlessly, like a wound-up machine.

“The servants who were in charge of distributing the supplies that day, the palace guards who were temporarily assigned to carry heavy objects, and the most suspicious one... Bertha, the acting head servant.”

He had said it.

This should have been a result that would have made me heave a sigh of relief, but I didn’t feel relaxed in the slightest. At the last moment, I realized that this would only drag more people into the water. Things would become more complicated, and I would get into more trouble that would be difficult to solve. Because of this, the palace would conduct an extensive investigation, and countless worried, puzzled, or ill-intentioned eyes would become a dark cloud over the palace.

Or rather, no matter which answers Benson chose, the result would be the same. Everything was already heading in an irredeemable direction when the bottle of poisoned wine appeared.

Due to Benson’s cooperation, the suspicion of him working with the palace’s spies was temporarily lifted. It was only temporary, and it couldn’t prove his innocence.

I had no choice but to keep Benson locked up in the secret prison. Perhaps getting the help of the mobile patrol team would make things a lot easier, but I couldn’t gamble on the possibility that I could trust him, even if I knew that as a direct force of the Lycan King, the possibility of him having problems was very low. However, I was afraid that more trouble would appear and add to my troubles.

After a few days of being in a mess, I finally realized how weak and incompetent I was. The self-satisfaction brought by the Spring Rain Pack was almost exhausted.

Construction was exciting and proud, but not everyone cared about the house and its family. There would be people who would use schemes and intrigues for their benefit, even if what they got was not even one-tenth of what others lost.

But even if the conspirators didn’t care, I couldn’t. Caring meant weakness. It meant retreating. It meant losing the courage to press forward, being stupid, and not caring about anything.

When I realized this, I suddenly understood why my family would slowly lose their familiar appearance and become completely different from my impression of them.

It was helpless. It was really helpless.

Before I left, the silent Benson suddenly asked me, “Does Selma know about this? Is it about Aldrich and everything else?”

I paused for a moment before deciding to tell the truth. “No, she doesn’t know.”

Benson did not say a word. He nodded and obediently left with the guard.

Of course, Selma should know about this but now was not the time. I did not doubt the feelings she and Aldrich had honed through life-and-death situations. Aldrich was willing to save her at all costs. Could Selma retain much of her rationality in the face of her lover’s danger?

I had to ensure I didn’t make her situation worse, even if it was inhumane and cold-blooded.

I had already prepared myself for Selma’s anger and resentment toward me when she returned and learned of everything. However, I would never regret my decision.

They would become weak because of their weaknesses, but they would also do anything to protect the things they wanted to protect. Humans were such contradictory creatures.