-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 21
Chapter Title: An Unwanted Rescue
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The Duke, thinking Eric only knew the facts from the front of the ledger he had taken, had already prepared his excuses.
And even if Eric were to ask His Majesty the King about all this, it would likely pose no problem. The talk of pioneering adventures would all be true.
But His Majesty would know nothing of the national funds the Prince had embezzled.
Moreover, the words written on the wall—
*I will never commit suicide.*
With a placid expression, Eric set down his mother’s necklace, which hung around his neck.
The Duke spoke.
“To be frank, I have sided with Prince Robert. It’s true the Princess has many achievements to her name, but she pays too little mind to her reputation. She is entangled in far too many scandals with the sons of noble houses…”
“I believe the Prince is even worse in that regard.”
Eric stated firmly.
The Duke’s sharp gaze seemed to pierce right through Eric before his expression softened, like a father chiding his young son.
Come to think of it, there had always been something subtly off about the Duke’s attitude. For instance, just like now, he was trying to lecture his 24-year-old son as if he were still a 4-year-old child.
As if he were dealing not with an equal, but with a hunting dog he had raised.
“I would prefer you not get too deeply involved with the Princess either. She is not one to give deep affection to anyone. Even if you were to marry her, she would keep numerous lovers and try to use our family and her lovers’ families for political gain. I want you to be able to set aside your political maneuvering and rest comfortably, at least at home.”
The Duke’s gaze fell upon the late Duchess’s keepsake on the table.
“Your mother… was a good woman in that respect… At least… before her madness appeared.”
A chill ran down Eric’s spine at the Duke’s words. *Was Mother truly mad? Or…*
Struggling to hide his inner turmoil, Eric spoke.
“Then what about Madam Helena? Does she also put you at ease?”
Helena Wedgwood.
Why did his father want to marry that woman?
Before, he had thought of it simply.
His father’s remarriage was something even the collateral branches of the family desired. They pushed women connected to their own factions into his father’s chambers daily.
So it wasn’t strange for his father to choose a woman completely unrelated to them, to avoid being played by their schemes.
And Helena was a beautiful and charming woman. She even had a sort of ‘flaw’—children from her previous husbands. Because of this ‘flaw,’ Helena would not be able to covet the ducal family’s power too greatly.
This combination of factors had allowed his father to fall for Helena without reservation.
That was what Eric had thought. Until he began to sense something different hidden within his father.
“Helena? Not exactly. As you may have noticed, she provides more amusement than comfort. It’s enjoyable to be with her… and beneficial.”
*Beneficial?*
Eric recalled Helena, who was quick-witted but utterly lacking in knowledge or refinement, and found his father’s choice of words peculiar.
The Duke rose from his seat. He walked over to where his rifle was leaning and fiddled with it.
Eric once again placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.
The Duke picked up the rifle. Just as Eric tensed, preparing to draw his sword, the Duke grabbed a cloth from the desk with his other hand and spoke.
“You, too, are of an age where it’s time to find a suitable partner. That is not a bad thing. But you must always be mindful, Eric. Your wife will become the next Duchess. And the next Duchess will have access to much of this mansion’s information.”
As he spoke, the Duke wiped the gunpowder residue from the rifle’s barrel. The smooth surface of the barrel he cleaned glinted in the light.
‘The next Duchess.’
Eric relaxed his grip on his sword.
A strange thought swirled through his mind. A thought that could only be described as… strange.
By the time Eric, captured by this strange thought, had finished preparing to head to the royal palace, even stranger news arrived from Lily.
✵ ✵ ✵
The laughter of the nobles echoed, loud enough to shake the hall.
Those laughing so boisterously were mostly lower-ranking nobles. Their laughter was a desperate attempt to curry favor and somehow get noticed by playing along with the vapid jokes of the capital’s aristocrats.
‘A bunch of phonies.’
I turned my head.
Then I saw Philip and my mother, wedged among the high-ranking nobles, desperately trying to flatter them.
‘Ha… right. We were those very phonies.’
I was sitting forlornly in the most secluded corner, all to maintain the mask of a country bumpkin from the south. I was in no position to criticize anyone.
I sighed and looked toward the nobles who were laughing so hard their ears might split.
Vivian Cavendish, laughing ostentatiously. I had been keeping a close watch on her.
‘In a moment, Vivian will go to my mother, casually spill the champagne glass she’s holding, and then, while pretending to apologize…’
‘*You’re quite capable, aren’t you? Always finding a new husband less than a year after the last one died?*’
That’s when she was supposed to say it…
The capital’s nobles, in truth, had little interest in the affairs of the south.
Why else would Vivian Cavendish, a lady who carried herself with some importance in the south, fail to garner any real attention here?
The nobles of the capital considered themselves the best and the center of the world.
Thanks to that, my mother was known merely as some lower noble from the southern backwoods who had managed to win the Duke’s heart and was now remarrying.
The fact that she was a woman with the fearsome history of having been widowed by all four of her husbands was not yet known. But today, thanks to Vivian, that fearsome history would be revealed, earning her the censure of all the nobles.
In that atmosphere, the Duke would come to Mother’s rescue, and she would place even greater trust in him.
But for some reason, the Duke was nowhere to be seen.
If this is how it’s going to be, I’ll save Mother instead of the Duke.
‘And I’ll rip out all of Vivian’s hair in the process!’
I steeled my resolve and looked toward my mother.
From now on, I had to be the one to protect her. Because she had always been the one to protect me. While all her short-lived husbands died, Mother protected Philip and me…
‘Then again, with a history like Mother’s, any other noble family would have had the king’s approval for the marriage denied…’
…but this was the House of Orleans.
Weren’t they the noblest family on the continent in wealth and power, second only to the Grand Ducal House of the North?
The king had no intention of interfering with a marriage the Orleans wanted. In fact, he welcomed the idea of the powerful Duke marrying a country bumpkin from the south instead of forging an alliance with another powerful house.
It’s even said that after His Majesty the King comes the Princess, after the Princess the Grand Duke, and after the Grand Duke, the Duke of Orleans.
‘And right after that, they say, is Prince Robert.’
Prince Robert was watching the Princess dance with various men, a bored expression on his face.
The Princess, using her reputation as a flirt, seemed poised to dance with every influential figure at the party.
‘She’s surprisingly smart.’
The Prince, on the other hand, was warding off even the young ladies who approached him with his hellmouth.
Was that why the Duke of Orleans had deliberately joined hands with him? Because the Prince was such a pushover? To make him king and then control him as he pleased?
It was a plausible theory.
The grumpy Prince would certainly be an easier opponent to handle than the Princess, who, despite her slick appearance, had a formidable spirit.
Just as I was thinking this, I turned my head back toward Vivian.
‘…?’
Vivian was gone.
I shot up from my seat.
Now that I looked, my mother was gone too. In the moment I had glanced away, both women had vanished into thin air.
I panicked, feeling the situation suddenly slip out of my control.
I left my corner seat and wandered through the ballroom, my eyes searching for my mother.
*Splash!*
As my gaze darted around frantically, a sudden cool, damp sensation spread across my chest.
“…?”
My eyes widened as I looked forward. Vivian Cavendish stood there, holding a half-spilled champagne glass and looking down at me as she said:
“Oh, my apologies.”
Her face, however, held not a shred of remorse.
I tilted my head.
‘Isn’t this… different?’
Wasn’t she supposed to spill it on my mother, not me?
But my mother was nowhere in sight, and before me stood only Vivian Cavendish and her friends, who looked like the ones I’d seen at the dress shop.
“Seeing you like this, I’m glad you look so healthy, Imeline. After causing such a scene at the dress shop, you disappeared without a word of apology. I thought you might have fallen ill.”
At Vivian’s words, nearby nobles began to whisper. It seemed they had all been murmuring about the incident behind our backs.
I finally understood why Vivian Cavendish’s actions were different from what I had seen in my dream.
My actions, after knowing the future, had caused it to shift slightly.
Vivian Cavendish wanting to screw over my family and the Duke being an evil psycho trying to kill us—those things hadn’t changed. But the minor details did, is that it?
‘Does that mean the Duke not being here yet is also because I changed something…?’
A small sense of relief washed over me at the thought that even the Duke, who had seemed completely unresponsive to the chaos I’d caused so far, had been affected by my actions.
I glanced down at my soaked dress with a sense of satisfaction, then lifted my head.
As I stared coldly at Vivian, she flinched unconsciously and touched her hair.
“…Now you know how precious every single strand is, don’t you?”
Vivian’s face hardened.
Fear flickered across her face, which just a moment ago had worn a triumphant smile.
Of course it would.
Back in the south, I had only given her a scare. But having tasted the strength of my grip at the dress shop, Vivian was now in a state where she couldn’t forget my ‘touch.’ She would continue to long for it from now on, that little wench.
“Is that a wig? Can I touch it?”
I smiled sweetly and reached for Vivian’s hair.
Vivian, her face filled with terror, clutched her champagne glass and stumbled backward.
“St-stay away from me!”
Vivian held out the champagne glass as if it were a weapon. At the sight, a few of the watching nobles snickered and hid their faces behind their fans.
In truth, the commotion between Vivian and me at the dress shop had ended ambiguously.
Immediately after the incident, Vivian and her friends had spread all sorts of malicious rumors about me, but for the past few days, they had suddenly gone silent as mice.
It was almost certainly the Duke of Orleans’s doing. After all, Philip had the forged note.
However, since there was no excusing the fact that I had torn out Vivian’s hair, the House of Orleans had offered no official explanation.
Ultimately, the victim had suddenly gone quiet, and the perpetrator was, for some unknown reason, unabashed. The nobles of the capital, wary of the Duke of Orleans, were only whispering a little behind our backs.
Vivian must have been displeased with this stalemate.
‘This time, it won’t end with just a few strands of hair… You poor woman…’
I, for one, was pleased.
Right now, I needed the image of a hellion who would ruin my mother’s wedding—
I casually glanced around.
The eyes of the nobles, watching the fight between Vivian and me with great interest, sparkled. My mother, Philip, and the Duke were nowhere in sight.
‘Well, isn’t this a perfect situation.’
I looked at Vivian and grinned.
“Foolish Vivian. Weren’t you taught that pouring champagne on someone won’t kill them? You need something else to kill a person.”
As I slipped a hand into my dress, Vivian flinched back. Of course, I hadn’t hidden a knife or anything of the sort, and I showed her my empty hand.
“What are you so scared of?”
The onlookers couldn’t hold back their scornful laughs.
Vivian, her face about to explode, shouted.
“Are you insane? You weren’t this much of a train wreck in the south!”
Well, that’s because back then, if I got kicked out of Viscount Wedgwood’s house, I’d have nowhere to go. Did you think I was afraid of *you*?
Vivian huffed and puffed before seeming to pull herself together, catching her breath. As if she had prepared a secret weapon, she crept toward me.
Vivian opened her fan and spoke in a low voice.
“Then again, you did have some nasty rumors following you in the south. That you did in Bluebeard, Lord Violode.”
Vivian made a slicing motion across her neck with her fan.
Lord Violode.
The moment that name left Vivian’s lips, goosebumps erupted all over my body.
My fists clenched without me even realizing it. It was a reflex.
A reflex born from the constant abuse I had suffered at the hands of Lord Violode, my biological father.
Vivian flinched backward.
For such a coward. I glared at her.
“It seems you want to be the star of a nasty rumor yourself…”
Vivian quickly grabbed my clenched fist. Her face filled with fear that I might hit her, she stammered on.
“Th-the rumor doesn’t seem to be just a rumor anymore, does it? The southern sheriff said he found new evidence regarding Lord Violode’s death. S-something like a… p-pearl hairpin at the scene of the accident.”
Vivian seemed relieved to have gotten out all her prepared words, despite her terror.
A hairpin?
An old memory, like a meteor hurtling down to strike the back of my head, rushed toward me.
‘*Let’s go, Imeline. We’re escaping this wretched house.*’
‘*That’s right. For better or worse, a family sticks together, Imeline!*’
Philip, smiling foolishly in front of me. Helena, gently taking my hand to lead me away.
And… the bright light that poured down the moment I stepped out of the small room where I’d always been confined.
I thought our future would be just as bright…
Then came Helena’s sudden scream.
‘*Aaaaaah!*’
‘*You ungrateful wench! Where do you think you’re going! Daring to take my daughter with you? And stealing the property of this Violode Merchant Guild?*’
The falling silver candlestick and expensive jewels. And the hairpin that had slipped from my hair.
No. No. Did I really drop a hairpin? Is this not some memory fabricated because of Vivian?
‘*Did I… really drop a hairpin that day? Truly?*’
While I stood there, unable to say a word, a cold sweat trickling down my back, Vivian grew triumphant and stepped back.
She spoke in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear.
“Oh, by the way, someone said they saw you at the Rose that Blooms at Night last night. The eldest son of the Marquis Halo, was it…?”
But I couldn’t focus on Vivian’s voice at all.
I was completely submerged in the events of ten years ago, replaying in my mind.
‘*…I-I can’t breathe…*’
Even though it’s such an old memory, even though it means nothing now…
Just then, a man with a familiar face appeared from behind Vivian. It was the same guy who had tried to grab my wrist and drag me away at the Rose that Blooms at Night.
I smiled wryly, my eyes darting between the man and Vivian.
Vivian said to me.
“He said he desperately wanted to see you again, so I promised to introduce you properly.”
The surrounding nobles began to whisper. Vivian and the marquis’s son exchanged glances and smiled faintly.
‘Ah, dammit… So the marquis’s son spread the rumor about Eric and the Princess, and also told Vivian about me.’
A meeting between an unmarried man and woman at the Rose that Blooms at Night.
Vivian seemed to think that while our damned meeting might not be a major blow to a nobleman’s son, it would be a huge blow to me.
Not at all.
The reason I’m standing here, flustered and breaking out in a cold sweat, has nothing to do with that…
I looked up at Vivian and thought.
‘I should have… not left a single strand of that thing’s hair…’
“Miss Imeline Wedgwood, you look quite different from how you appeared last night. It is an honor to see you again…”
Everyone’s attention was on me and the marquis’s son. Even the Princess, who had been dancing far away, was looking our way.
Just as the marquis’s son knelt before me and tried to forcibly take my hand to kiss its back, someone intervened, grabbing his outstretched hand.
“…?”
The marquis’s son, Vivian, and everyone else looked up at the person, question marks on their faces.
I stared at the back that now stood protectively in front of me.
Ebony black hair. Snow-white skin. Red lips. Gazing at his jaguar-like profile, I smiled wryly.
‘Eric Orleans.’
So the future has changed, with the daughter taking the mother’s place, and the son taking the father’s.
I pressed a hand to my chest, which felt tight, as if I couldn’t breathe properly.
Eric smiled gently, his hand still gripping the hand of the marquis’s son.
“I am also very pleased to meet you again, Gary Halo. It seems the leg that was broken by my wooden sword during the knighthood entrance exam has healed.”
At Eric’s words, the expression of the marquis’s son, called ‘Gary,’ twisted beautifully.
His leg was broken by a wooden sword? The entrance exams were usually taken lightly, so it was rare for anyone to suffer such a serious injury…
All the nobles seemed to share my thought as they glanced down at Gary’s flimsy lower body and made comments. Gary’s face turned beet red as he tried to stand up. He spoke in a servile tone.
“Oh, uh… E-Eric, you’re here… I-is your father with you…?”
It seemed he had planned to torment me while the Duke of Orleans was away.
*Thud!*
Eric kicked Gary’s leg just as he was trying to stand.
“Agh! What do you think you’re doing?!”
“What does it look like I’m doing? I am vehemently protesting the fact that you carelessly grabbed my sister’s hand last night when she did not want you to, Gary Halo. When you are refused, it is the way of a gentleman and a knight to withdraw gracefully.”
Sister.
‘Who… is whose sister…’
My expression and Gary’s both contorted.
“Wh-when did I! Besides, when an unmarried woman comes alone to the Rose that Blooms at Night, there’s a certain unspoken agreement…”
“My sister was there at the Princess’s invitation. The Princess had something to ask my sister about the south.”
Eric’s gaze shifted to the Princess. But the Princess just looked at me and winked.
“The passionate redhead lady.”
With that, the surrounding nobles confirmed that Eric’s words were true. Eric looked at Gary coldly and said.
“And even if that were not the case, my sister has the freedom to be where she wants, with whom she wants, in whatever manner she wants. The freedom not to be dragged around and harassed by some ‘unspoken agreement’ or whatever.”
Some of the noble ladies began to criticize Gary, saying Eric was right. It seemed Gary had a poor reputation to begin with.
Gary, his face a mask of pain, clutched his knee and looked toward me, his expression pleading for mercy just once.
One might think it was a truly satisfying moment, but…
‘How pathetic…’
I shifted my gaze from Gary’s and looked at Eric, thinking.
‘It’s just so pathetic.’
I stared at Eric’s impassive face for a moment, then turned around.
I felt like I was going to be sick.
Old memories kept rising up from within me.
The time when I was truly a pathetic country bumpkin, when I waited for a strong person like him to save me. I felt like I had returned to that time.
I left without exchanging a word with either Gary or Eric, ignoring the sound of someone calling my name from behind.
‘*Repeat after me, Imeline. Violode’s death is not your fault. You did not kill Violode. And you are the daughter of this Helena Violode. Now, repeat it!*’
Only Helena’s words echoed relentlessly in my ears.
I reverted to a mere 12-year-old girl and muttered.
“I… didn’t kill him. I… am Helena Violode’s daughter.”
When I let out a ragged breath and looked around, I found myself in the middle of the dark, gloomy royal garden.
