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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: The Duke's Office
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Philip and I were shown to the ducal family's opulent drawing room.
“You're becoming more beautiful by the day, Imeline. And Philip, you're growing more handsome as well. This is your second visit to the ducal estate, isn't it? You didn't get a proper look around last time, so I've told the butler to give you a tour while you're here.”
The Duke was affectionate toward Philip and me, acting like a good father who genuinely wanted to grow closer to us.
Philip, feigning a look of deep emotion, spoke with nauseating sincerity.
“Thank you so much. It feels as if we've truly become family… I'm getting all teary-eyed…”
Tears, my foot. Didn't I tell you to practice your crying?
I stared at Philip's profile, inwardly pounding my chest in frustration.
Family, what a joke. I had no intention of accepting a man who enjoys putting bullet holes in people as my father.
While Philip continued his terrible performance, Eric never took his eyes off me.
Moreover, the unsettling intensity in his gaze made it clear he still held a grudge for my threat.
*…Why does it feel like nothing is going right…*
I grew despondent, feeling as though all my plans had failed miserably.
As we sat on the plush sofas in the lavish drawing room, the Duke spoke.
“…Imeline. There is something I must ask. Why did you strike Vivian?”
He wore the kind expression of a father looking at his troublemaking daughter.
At his words, I glanced toward the door where Lily was waiting. Had Lily not said anything?
Seeing my hesitation, Philip quickly spoke up for me.
“The Imeline I know would never strike someone without a reason. Miss Vivian must have started it…”
“I was asking Imeline, Philip.”
The Duke cut Philip off, his tone firm. In that moment, his red eyes glinted dangerously.
He feigned kindness and gentleness, but his expression changed in an instant when he felt his authority was challenged.
*That's his true face.*
With that thought, I glared at the Duke. He frowned, seemingly a little taken aback by my defiant gaze.
“Imeline?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“I am asking you a question, am I not? I would like you to tell me why you did it.”
I bit my lip hard.
The Duke and Philip probably thought I was flustered by my predicament, but they were wrong.
I was racking my brain, trying to figure out what I could possibly say to make myself look like more of a train wreck.
When I finally lifted my head, my eyes met Eric's.
I flinched. For some reason, his eyes looked… anxious.
*Anxious…?*
Anxious was hardly a word I would associate with Eric, not after how coolly he had threatened my life that day.
I turned my head away from Eric. The Duke of Orleans spoke.
“Very well. If you do not wish to speak of it, you don't have to, Imeline. However, you must apologize to Miss Vivian. I will arrange a suitable meeting tomorrow, so the two of you can resolve any misunderstandings you've had…”
“I refuse.”
I said flatly.
At my words, Philip pinched my thigh. Ouch. This hooligan of a brother.
I endured the pain and stared straight at Orleans.
“You asked me why I did it, didn't you? From what I could see, Vivian didn't seem to have much use for her hair. Her head is already an ornament, so what does she need hair for?”
The drawing room instantly froze over.
The maids preparing the tea set heard me and exchanged shocked glances. Their expressions screamed, *What kind of lunatic is she?*
“Hah.”
Eric Orleans scoffed in disbelief.
My eyes met Eric's in midair.
Eric stared at me like an adventurer who had just discovered a mythical creature. His eyes seemed to say:
*'To think that a person like this—who threatened someone yesterday and today hits someone for fun—lives under the same sky as me.'*
There. Now, my words would be the talk of the ducal household for some time, along with baseless rumors about the kind of disastrous upbringing I must have had.
Then again, those rumors were probably circulating already.
I watched the Duke of Orleans's face twitch slightly.
This must be difficult for him. He has to marry my mother to get the coastal land, yet here I am, dragging my own reputation through the mud.
Just give up already. On marrying my mother.
You psycho.
The Duke of Orleans's gaze turned icy. He glared at me as if he were about to strike me across the face.
Just then, Eric rose from his seat as if to say something.
But it was Philip who moved first. He shot up from the sofa and knelt before the Duke.
“Your Grace! I have something to tell you.”
“Philip…?”
What are you doing, you idiot? Get up.
I glared at Orleans while jabbing Philip in the ribs.
This was the perfect chance to see Orleans's true colors and get the engagement called off, you moron! But Philip, oblivious to my thoughts, suddenly said:
“The truth is, my sister has been suffering emotional distress at Miss Vivian's hands for a long time. This! This is the proof!”
Philip pulled a slip of paper from his coat.
I saw the words clearly written on the paper he held out.
*You and your mother who's been married four times should just go and die.*
Written in red ink.
The moment I saw it, I knew.
Ah, that's one of the old notes Vivian Cavendish wrote…
…or rather, a fake that looks like one.
Of course it was.
We hadn't brought any of our belongings with us when we moved from the south to the capital; there was no way we'd have a note like that. It was merely a fake, with handwriting and content similar enough to fool even Vivian Cavendish.
Realizing Philip's scheme, I frowned.
*'If you're going to pull something like this, I have plans of my own…'*
And your plan was a forged letter?!
*Ughhh! What kind of family treats crime like a daily routine!*
The Duke of Orleans picked up the letter. While he read it, Philip spoke.
“Miss Vivian and Imeline attended etiquette classes together in the south. But in those classes, Miss Vivian would torment Imeline like this every day… *sob*… It was truly agonizing. For our entire family. That's why we left the south so quickly…”
We left the south because you failed to seduce a rich commoner's daughter! And you got caught cheating on her with her friend! Then you ended up getting caught by loan sharks and had a hell of a time!
I ground my teeth.
Meanwhile, the Duke put the letter down. Eric picked it up. A strange expression crossed his face, but I had no energy to spare on his shifting moods.
“I really didn't want to say this, as it wounds my pride… but if I had run into Vivian at the dress shop, I too would have been unable to bear the old memories resurfacing… This worthless older brother understands his sister's actions… *hic… sob…*”
Philip's atrocious crying act continued.
I wanted to scream that the letter was a complete fake. *Vivian is a horrible person, but she's not the kind of horrible person who writes so neatly!*
But if I did, it wouldn't be the engagement I'd have to worry about, but Philip's safety.
Besides, on the surface, the Duke of Orleans seemed to be falling for Philip's tears. An unspeakable pity filled his eyes.
However.
But I knew the truth. The Duke was simply pleased that his marriage to my mother wouldn't be broken off.
“Good heavens, Imeline. To think something like this happened. It seems you are the one who deserves an apology, not Miss Vivian. I will contact the House of Cavendish and demand an apology at once…”
Oh, for heaven's sake.
As the Duke spoke, I met the eyes of Philip, who was wiping away his tears and looking at me.
He mouthed a message to me.
*'You're welcome, right?'*
I mouthed a string of colorful curses right back at him.
✵ ✵ ✵
Thanks to my desperate efforts to stop him, the ducal family did not send a formal letter of protest to the House of Cavendish.
My reason for preventing the letter wasn't a sudden surge of generosity toward Vivian.
The House of Cavendish knew the situation in the south inside and out. Marquess Cavendish probably suspected that the coastal land, supposedly ours, had in fact changed hands multiple times.
So if the two families started communicating and the truth about the coastal land came to light…
*Bang!*
With no time or chance to escape, we'd become crow food once again.
After shelving the idea of sending a letter, the Duke, wishing to comfort Philip and me, suggested we take a walk together in the hunting grounds on his vast estate.
However, I was in no mood for a walk. I made the excuse of feeling unwell and decided to tour the manor instead, while Philip went out with the Duke alone.
Philip put on a sullen face and fawned over the Duke with his red eyes. A mountain of a man acting cute. It was enough to make me genuinely sick to my stomach.
In the meantime, Eric approached me as if he had something to say, but I shooed him away in a small voice no one else could hear.
“Let's discuss our deal later. Alright?”
Please, if you want to complain about the threat, do it later… My head is spinning from Philip's terrible acting!
“No, that's not what I wanted to talk about…”
“Yes, yes… I'm sure it's not.”
I gave a vague reply and started touring the manor with the butler. Eric merely stared at my back as I left; he didn't follow. Instead, I heard him say:
“It seems a letter has arrived that requires an urgent reply. I will return to the mansion first, Father.”
The butler showed me around the vast ducal manor, explaining how expensive this statue was, how historic that candelabra was, what anecdote was attached to that chandelier…
Listening to the typical spiel of a well-trained butler welcoming a guest, I was engrossed in a single thought.
*'A huge scene to break off this marriage. What could it be?'*
While I was lost in thought, the butler excused himself for a moment.
I began to wander around the ducal manor on my own.
The manor with the familiar layout I had seen in my dream.
Once the butler was gone, the statues, candelabras, and chandeliers suddenly came into sharp focus.
*'Yes, this is where I… lost my life.'*
The image of the firmly shut door to the Duke's office on the second floor came to mind.
A week after my mother's wedding, I had taken the documents she gave me and walked right into the Duke's office to my death.
Come to think of it, those documents…
Where on earth did Mother get them? They were filled with circumstantial evidence of the Duke's evil deeds.
A place where such important information would be kept. It would have to be…
My feet moved faster than my thoughts. I looked toward the stairs leading down to the second floor.
*The Duke's office!*
That's it. I don't need to cause a scene. All I need are the Duke's documents.
I hurried down the stairs before the butler could return.
For some reason, the second-floor hallway was empty.
In an instant, I slipped through the slightly ajar door of the Duke's office.
If I can use those documents as evidence and reveal the Duke's plans to the royal family, we'll be free!
Family? Give me a break! Our only family is us!
I gazed around the Duke's office, its walls lined with tightly packed books.
I had to find where the secret documents might be hidden before one of the manor's servants came by.
I started by checking the fireplace. Then the picture frames, then under the desk.
To hide such secret documents, the hiding place itself had to be a secret. A place that looked perfectly ordinary on the outside.
Every time I thought I heard footsteps in the hall, I would flinch and hold my breath.
After hearing a maid's footsteps pass the door about three times, my eyes fell on a bookshelf that covered an entire wall.
*That…*
The wall with the bookshelf seemed suspiciously thick.
Which meant… there was a space behind that bookshelf.
I knew because my biological father had also been fond of making secret compartments like that.
I placed my hands on the bookshelf and pushed without hesitation.
*Creeak.*
The bookshelf opened easily at first, then stopped with a click. I pushed harder.
“Ngh…!”
Sweat started to bead on my forehead, but the bookshelf wouldn't budge. It had opened by about a hand's breadth; it should definitely move further!
Just then, I heard a voice from the hallway.
“Miss Imeline? Miss Imeline has disappeared! Where could she have gone?”
It was the butler.
Damn it. He'd noticed I was gone. What should I do? Should I go out now and pretend I got lost?
As I was thinking that,
“What's this? Why is the office door open? Hey. Someone needs to watch the office door…”
*Creeak.*
The bookshelf that wouldn't open no matter how hard I pushed slid open on its own. A face appeared from the space within.
Ebony black hair. Pale white skin. Sharp, jaguar-like red eyes.
The moment our eyes met, I froze.
Eric Orleans was right there.
He glared at me and muttered.
“Come here, Imeline Wedgwood.”
“…?!”
The next moment, his hand pulled me into the dark space behind the bookshelf.
