-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: An Unlikely Alliance
-----------------------------------------------------------------
‘Until the day our lives end, you and I are one.’
In my dream, the Duke’s words were accompanied by the brilliant illumination of the royal garden’s lights, drawing gasps of awe from all who watched.
But now, the royal garden was utterly dark.
I pounded my frustrated chest with my fist and collapsed where I stood.
I heard footsteps behind me. I had a feeling I knew who it was, so I swept my hair back and shouted.
“I get it! Thank you! Thank you so, so much! So let’s save the self-congratulations for later!”
Despite my outburst, the owner of the footsteps didn’t stop.
I glared at him resentfully.
Eric Orleans.
It was too dark to see his expression clearly, but he was probably wearing a smug look, proud of himself for saving me.
Good people.
Aren’t they just exhausting? They always need to be coddled by everyone around them.
I forced my squatting legs to straighten and pushed myself up.
‘Fine. I’ll play along! All I have to do is bow down and thank you, right?!’
Why did he even help me in the first place? Going so far as to tell a lie he wasn't even good at. Did he not hear his own voice crack while he was acting? It was only because the nobles were all so unobservant that he got away with it…
“Imeline Wedgwood.”
But as Eric came to a stop right in front of me, his face looked strange. Far from triumphant, he seemed angry for some reason…
‘He looks sad.’
The thought that this arrogant young master looked sad was absurd. And the fact that I was curious about the source of his sadness was even more so.
‘The mouse is worrying about the cat, how wonderful…’
I scanned Eric’s face and took a subtle step back.
“What is it…? If you’re going to call someone’s name, you should say something…?”
But Eric just stared at my face for a long time, looking conflicted, and said nothing.
Just as I was about to open my mouth to press him, Eric finally spoke.
“The back of the document.”
“Pardon?”
The back of the document…?
Ah, that.
I recalled the back page of the document, the one that hadn't been in the envelope Eric Orleans had brought.
Honestly, if I’d had that back page, I might have had more options. It would have been more conclusive evidence, wouldn't it?
Seeing me smack my lips in regret, Eric spoke.
“...Are you saying you know what’s on it?”
Eric’s eyes glared at me sharply.
I furrowed my brow at his words.
Of course, I know. I took it to the office and got shot by your father for my troubles.
…I couldn’t say that, of course.
“I don’t know for sure… but there’s probably something more decisive, right?”
“You’re lying.”
The moment my words ended, Eric closed the distance I had created by stepping back.
As his body loomed closer, I was struck by how large he was. He was a swordsman with a history as the commander of the Royal Knights. From a distance, his tall and lanky frame made him seem thin, but up close…
‘A predator.’
I looked into Eric’s red eyes and was reminded of Baldeck Orleans.
It occurred to me then that we were in a dark garden, with no one around to call for help if something dangerous happened. I looked at Eric with a sense of foreboding.
“Wh-what proof do you have that I’m lying…”
The words spilling from my mouth kept scattering.
‘…You stupid bitch! …I should have just sold you to the slave market!’
An old memory clawed through my mind.
I pressed a hand to my forehead.
Ugh… damn Violode… damn… Wedgwood… Whether a rich commoner or a failing noble…
In the end, those who think they have power always reveal their true colors in front of those weaker than them.
‘So much for being the same on the inside and out.’
Just then, Eric spoke with a furious expression.
“...Pretending to be scared. Pretending to know nothing. Lying your way out of trouble, and shamelessly threatening when necessary…”
I subtly backed away, my eyes searching for a nearby rock.
“Are you planning to knock me out with poison gas like before? Or maybe find a rock and smash my head in?”
At Eric’s words, my gaze, which had been darting across the ground, fixed on him.
‘Haha… I’ve been caught.’
There was no way I could win with something like a rock.
I held up my palms toward Eric as if to calm him down.
“Hey… what’s with you…? You should calm down…? This doesn’t suit you. You were never this kind of brute, were you…?”
Let’s talk this out… with words.
“I’ve grown tired of it, too. This whole ‘good triumphs over evil’ thing.”
“No. That can’t be right. Think again.”
Images of Violode’s fists flashed through my mind. And Viscount Wedgwood’s slaps.
Powerful men love to wield their power.
‘B-but wasn’t Eric Orleans the type to value dignity above all else?’
I said, my voice trembling.
“You’re the type who likes love and justice, right?”
I backed away from Eric, who was approaching me like a predator stalking its prey.
Then, something pricked my back.
I glanced behind me. A dense thicket of thorns spread out behind me.
There was nowhere left to retreat.
The moment I realized that, Eric spoke.
“Not anymore.”
I flinched back again, and a small thorn on the ground pierced the sole of my foot.
‘Ugh…!’
I winced.
A strange expression flickered in Eric’s eyes.
“On the way here, Lily told me another story about you. About a pearl hairpin found where Lord Violode died…”
“What are you…”
Goosebumps erupted all over my skin.
What Vivian had said was true.
There really was a hairpin there…
“The story that the hairpin belonged to Imeline, Violode’s daughter.”
‘Repeat after me, Imeline. It’s not your fault that Violode died. You did not kill Violode. And you are the daughter of this Helena Violode. Now, repeat it!’
My mother’s voice echoed in my head.
Helena.
Helena Violode.
When I first met her, that was indeed her name. Along with the nickname, Bluebeard’s fifth wife.
“What do you think would happen if I added a little of my influence and told the sheriff this? That Helena actually acquired a massive inheritance from the merchant lord’s death, and if Helena is found to be the culprit, half of that inheritance will go to the sheriff. Don’t you think the sheriff would find a way to produce more evidence?”
My eyes widened.
‘I didn’t kill Violode. I’m Helena Violode’s daughter…’
I recalled the voice of a twelve-year-old girl and let out a ragged breath.
The world was spinning. I tried to turn and run. Towards the thorn bush.
But Eric grabbed my hand. He held onto my struggling body and wouldn’t let go.
“Are you crazy? It’s a thorn bush back there!”
Eric yelled. I stopped struggling and glared at him. A dull ache spread from the sole of my foot.
“Are you pretending to worry about me now…? You son of a bitch… Just pick one. Be good or be evil.”
Eric looked down at me with a pained expression. I’m the one who’s hurt. What’s with this guy?
I gritted my teeth.
Eric spoke.
“Do you really think I’m the only one who knows this? My father knows, too. Why do you think he hasn’t said anything, despite knowing your weakness? It was so that if you, Helena, and Philip tried to run away, he could drag your suspicious family back by their leashes. And after dragging you back by your leashes, he’d…”
A very faint groan escaped through Eric’s clenched teeth. It sounded like a wounded animal, but it was only for a moment. He quickly returned to a stoic expression and said.
“He’d kill you all, just like he killed my mother.”
But as he finished, an unconcealed sorrow flickered in his eyes.
A deep shadow fell over his eyes, visible beneath his ebony hair. It was a shadow I had rarely seen before.
‘He… knows…’
I was confused.
Why couldn’t I ignore this deep shadow of sorrow on the face of Eric Orleans, the man who had just been threatening me?
I parted my lips to say something, but Eric pulled me toward him before I could. Thanks to him, I was out of the thorn bush and back on flat ground.
My foot throbbed.
Eric looked at my stunned face and said with a hardened expression.
“Yes, I know. Everything. So from now on, I’ve decided to stand on the side of evil.”
“Evil…?”
At my quizzical question, Eric pointed a finger at me.
“I’m talking about you. Imeline Wedgwood. As far as I know, the most useful evil person to me right now.”
Eric’s finger was aimed at the tip of my nose. With a crumpled face, I stammered.
“W-wait, weren’t you just trying to threaten me? To blackmail me into giving you the film and the document… You said you were sick of ‘good triumphs over evil’…?”
You were just yelling at me, weren’t you?
“That’s why I said it. From now on, I’ll be on your side.”
“My side?”
My eyes went wide.
What did he mean, we’d be on the same side? The esteemed young master and the train wreck that was Imeline Wedgwood? How?
I asked in a trembling voice.
“You just said you thought I was a murderer, didn’t you?”
At my question, Eric replied as if he found it absurd.
“I just said that. To convey what my father knows. Besides, does that even make sense? You were only twelve years old then.”
Only twelve years old.
At Eric’s words, I unconsciously stepped back. Back toward the thorn bush I had just escaped. Eric frowned and pulled my hand.
“Why are you so hell-bent on running away from me?”
Eric sounded exasperated as he crouched in front of me. He gently lifted my shoe-clad foot, confirmed that it was bleeding, and spoke as if I were pathetic.
“You’re bleeding… you foolish Imeline Wedgwood. I clearly told you not to run away.”
Eric said this as he looked up at me. His expression was one of genuine pity.
I knew in that moment.
Eric could never be on the side of evil.
Even if he were on my side, he would still be a good person. Good people could never truly turn to the dark side.
I, in turn, looked down at Eric pitifully and said.
“How on earth do you plan to be on the same side as me…?”
So naive as to think a twelve-year-old couldn't kill someone.
Ah, you innocent young master.
You have no idea. What real monsters are like.
That for some people, it doesn’t take much effort to kill their own father.
You have no idea.
✵ ✵ ✵
Helena Wedgwood was pacing near the ballroom entrance.
‘Why is that Duke taking so long to arrive?’
Of course, it was customary for high-ranking nobles to arrive a little late to parties they were invited to, but even so, the Duke was rather tardy.
Besides, today was the day they were supposed to receive the King’s official approval for their marriage.
Helena’s reputation was, to put it mildly, not the best, while the Duke’s was the complete opposite.
There were only two dukes of great influence on the continent. One was the Grand Duke Gerda, who held sway in the north, and the other was the Duke of Orleans in the capital.
Grand Duke Gerda’s power lay in the vast lands of the north and his strong military. The Duke of Orleans, on the other hand, possessed the greatest wealth through his high honor in the capital, his crucial relationship with the royal family, and the family’s colossal business ventures that seemed to have a hand in everything.
In short, the Duke of Orleans was an ally the King absolutely could not afford to lose. For now, the King had promised to grant his approval so as not to displease this ally, but if he were to change his mind at the last moment—
That’s why Helena wanted to be absolutely sure until the very end.
‘We have to go in together. Looking like we’re incredibly close.’
She had to show them. Not just the royal family, but everyone gathered here.
She had to change the minds of those who saw her union with the Duke as nothing more than her using him to climb the social ladder. She needed them to believe that she and the Duke shared a deep love that transcended the difference in their stations.
To achieve that, Helena was determined to put on a show of affection with the Duke today, and she was waiting for him.
‘Is he coming through the other entrance?’
Helena glanced at the entrance across the way.
But that one was more like a side door, and it didn't fit the Duke’s personality, who always liked to make a grand entrance.
Main character syndrome.
He might seem kind, good-natured, and benevolent, but everything the Duke did was for his own embellishment.
Helena had sensed it from their very first meeting. The day the Duke had first saved her, when she had been invited to a gathering only to be ignored by everyone.
‘May I ask for the beautiful lady’s name?’
Hearing the Duke’s gentle voice, Helena could tell just how infatuated he was with himself.
A low-ranking noble from the countryside whom no one cared about. I am special for taking an interest in such an insignificant being.
The Duke later told Helena he had fallen for her at first sight, but in truth, the Duke had fallen in love not with Helena, but with himself—a man who was ‘unconstrained by status when it comes to love.’ Helena knew this, but she liked that aspect of the Duke even more.
A tall, middle-aged man could be seen walking from the end of the hall toward the ballroom entrance.
Helena looked into the handsome Duke of Orleans’s red eyes and thought.
‘Narcissistic people are always the easiest to use.’
Helena waved at the Duke. The Duke saw her and smiled, a look of surprise on his face. Joy was etched on his features as he quickened his pace.
Helena smiled brightly back at him.
‘And he’s handsome, to boot.’
Helena spoke to the Duke with a satisfied feeling.
“I came out for some air because I was feeling a bit stuffy, and I timed it perfectly for your arrival, Your Grace.”
Helena took the Duke’s arm. The Duke said.
“It must be fate.”
Helena narrowed her eyes as she looked at the Duke’s handsome face.
‘He says all the right things, too.’
Helena took the Duke’s hand and naturally led him toward the ballroom.
Just then, one of the Duke’s knights emerged from the ballroom and whispered something to him.
The Duke’s red eyes clouded over slightly.
Helena glanced at the gossiping nobles inside the ballroom.
‘Let’s go in, quickly…’
She grew anxious, eager to pull the Duke inside.
The moment the Duke’s knight finished speaking, Helena tried to pull on the Duke’s hand. But the Duke said with a troubled expression.
“Ah, please go in ahead, Helena. There is someone I must greet…”
“Who might that be? Let’s greet them together. A friend of the Duke is a friend of mine.”
Helena smiled with her eyes.
But the Duke let go of her hand. Helena looked up at him with an anxious expression.
The Duke gently stroked Helena’s hair and said.
“I’m sorry, but this is someone I must speak to at length.”
“Who…?”
As Helena continued to press with questions, the Duke’s expression hardened slightly. It was quite different from his usual demeanor, where he acted as if she were the sweetest thing in the world.
‘…Is it because we’re about to be married now?’
Nobles were so unreliable. Wedgwood had been the same.
“You must know Lady Margaret Beaufort. She is someone to whom I am greatly indebted, both in business and otherwise…”
“Ah, Lady Margaret Beaufort! Of course, I know her well! I was hoping to greet her myself…!”
Helena replied animatedly to the Duke’s words. Margaret Beaufort was the grand dame of high society. Helena genuinely wanted to greet her with the Duke.
Then, the Duke spoke to Helena in a cold voice.
“Helena.”
In that moment, the Duke just looked down at her, and for some reason, Helena felt a chill. For a fleeting instant, it felt as if the Duke was looking at Helena like…
Like she was an object.
And Helena knew people who looked at others as objects all too well.
Just as Helena unknowingly stiffened, the Duke returned to his usual gentle voice and expression.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to greet the lady alone. I would like for us to greet her together, but… I have business matters to discuss with her, and the conversation would be rather difficult and unfamiliar for you… I’ll finish up quickly and come back, so please wait just a little longer.”
The Duke tidied Helena’s hair and placed a brief kiss on her hand.
As if to say that fleeting expression, that brief contempt, that momentary anger, had all been her imagination.
Helena watched the Duke kiss the back of her hand and her face twisted for a moment. But by the time he looked up, she was smiling brightly.
“I’ll miss you terribly, but I’ll try my best to be patient, Your Grace.”
The Duke smiled at her words as if he couldn’t find her more adorable, then quickly disappeared down the end of the hall.
Helena watched his retreating figure with a smile until the Duke and his knight were completely gone, then muttered to herself.
“That was a little… strange, just now.”
✵ ✵ ✵
Feeling like I had found a small clue, I questioned Eric.
“So you found the back of the document, right? It contains the secret about your mother and the definitive proof that the Duke of Orleans is planning treason, so to silence me, you’re going to help me and my family escape far, far away, is that it?”
If I had the back of the document, I wouldn't have to go that far; it would be easier to convince Mom, at least.
But Eric shook his head.
“No. I didn’t find the back page.”
“Pardon?”
With a calm expression, Eric took a flask of strong liquor from his coat and soaked a handkerchief with it. Wait a minute. Did I just make a mistake…?
‘The secret about his mother.’
But Eric didn’t seem particularly surprised by my words. As I suspected, he seemed to know how his mother died.
He held out the handkerchief to me and said.
“Treat it yourself.”
I took Eric’s handkerchief, bewildered.
Seriously, is treating my foot the problem right now?! Huh?! My family’s and my own survival are at stake, and my head is about to explode!
“Then I’ll just go ahead and leak the photo of the two of us and give the document to the princess! Is that okay with you? It seemed like you and the princess have some sort of thing going on… Hey! Say something…”
“How do you know the contents of the back of that document?”
Eric ignored my threat and stared at me intently.
Huh? How do I know?
Oops.
I realized I had acted like I knew too much about the back of the document. Come to think of it, I hadn’t done a very good job of acting surprised when the secret about his mother’s murder was revealed, either.
“I-I don’t know?”
“Lies. Can’t you stop lying for once?”
How could I stop? If I told him I’d had a prophetic dream in which his father turned out to be a psycho, I’d be treated like a lunatic on the spot.
But unlike my desire to gloss over it with a simple lie, Eric seemed to have no intention of letting me off the hook easily, staring at me fixedly.
I looked at Eric with a tense expression.
What should I do? Should I really tell him about the prophetic dream? About the old woman who gave me that strange apple wine?
Ugh… if Eric Orleans were like Philip and believed in things like horoscopes, I might have a chance. But as far as I knew, Eric Orleans was a very devout believer and, due to his upright character, despised superstitions.
Just then, Eric spoke.
“That informant you mentioned back then, do they really exist?”
“Pardon?”
Informant…?
Only then did I remember the ‘informant’ I had blurted out about at the estate.
‘I cannot reveal my informant’s identity.’
Ah. That…
“Just what in the world have you been up to…”
At Eric’s muttering, I quickly put on a secretive expression and said.
“So you’d better not think about betraying me, right?”
Eric let out a short, humorless laugh.
“Between the two of us, if anyone is more suited to betrayal, it’s you, not me.”
He was so right I couldn’t even argue.
While I was smacking my lips, Eric crossed his arms and looked me up and down with a displeased expression.
“I don’t know if putting this crazy idea into action is the right thing to do…”
“Why are you looking me up and down like that…?”
What crazy idea? Crazy ideas suit me, not Young Lord Eric.
I cleared my throat with a sense of foreboding.
Eric wiped the unpleasant look from his face and spoke seriously.
“Do you know why my father wants to marry your mother?”
Yeah, I do. But I can’t just say that. I quickly put on a performance and said.
“Well… because she’s easy to manage, I suppose? She’ll be devoted to the ducal family but won’t be in a position to assert any rights in various inheritance matters?”
Eric muttered.
“So your information only goes that far.”
Yeah, no.
I answered inwardly, silently observing Eric’s pensive face. Did that mean Eric already knew about the coastal land?
Just as I was thinking that, Eric looked at me and said seriously.
“Don’t be shocked by what I’m about to tell you.”
Ah, time to prepare to be shocked. Time to show off my long-honed acting skills.
“The truth is, the land your mother inherited from Wedgwood is the ‘Mermaids’ Tomb.’”
Wow, how shocking! The Mermaids’ Tomb!
“Whaaaaaaaat?!”
I put every ounce of my being into acting surprised, screaming so loudly my throat hurt.
Eric frowned and told me to be quiet.
“Calm down.”
Calm down, my foot… I quickly pretended to look around, my eyes wide with fear.
But—
‘I actually knew all along.’
The Mermaids’ Tomb.
A burial ground for manastones of immense value, said to have been formed in ancient times when the mermaids who lived on the continent died and their bodies turned into manastones of incredibly high purity.
Who would have known it was buried in Wedgwood’s coastal land, of all places?
