Chapter 62
“…….”
“…….”
Wow... This is the kind of heavy silence that falls between father and daughter during a meal. The only sound is the clinking of silverware.
Right now, we're eating together because the count said he had something important to discuss before the banquet. So I made time amid debutante preparations, and this is what I get? It's choking me.
Even to my untrained eye, just starting etiquette lessons, the count's table manners were impeccable. No wonder Evangeline's mother fell head over heels. Sigh. People aren't always what they seem.
Irritated unconsciously, I ignored Dolliné's etiquette lessons and stabbed the steak viciously. It's rare, blood pooling on the white plate. Ugh, appetite gone. I prefer well-done. Lost my taste entirely, just minced the meat without eating.
With my displeasure obvious, the count finally set down his utensils. Why? Uncomfortable with your daughter's shitty manners, mister? Well, do you think I'm comfortable?
Of course, the kitchen staff got the biggest shock from the sudden dining summons. The course server trembled, nearly spilling wine meeting my eyes. Monitoring fearful servants for accidents today, I swiftly caught and righted the glass. Phew, not a drop spilled.
“Be careful.”
“Y-Yes. Sorry, so sorry.”
After, Yulma handled all my plates, pushed forward. He cooked at Daisy's orphanage too, now kitchen help here. Wondered why assign kitchen boy serving, but they sent him from behind as safest.
“Yulma, you're the only one not trembling before Lady.”
“Kitchen's hope! Go!”
“So glad you came to the kitchen.”
“Why's everyone so scared? Lady doesn't kill for mistakes.”
“What's your heart made of?”
Overheard whispers too loud, desperately pretended not to hear. Glanced; count ignored too, eating calmly. Nobles ignore seeing/hearing as virtue.
Yulma bowed after serving. Long time no see. Rarely visit dining room. Still, rescued kid—wanted check-in.
“You look well.”
“Yes. Thanks to Lady.”
Least plates broken, no sobbing/kowtowing.
“Not to your taste?”
Yulma eyed mangled steak. Oops, picky before cook.
“Don't like bloody.”
“Pardon?”
“Why? Thought I'd like it?”
What? Villainess law says eat dripping blood?
“No. I'll tell the head chef your tastes.”
Yes. Always rare; Kanna/Jelly ate mine. Should've requested well-done sooner. Ate whatever given—submissive habit.
“Come down often, eat here?”
Serious? Kitchen chaos at Evangeline's arrival? Last maid knelt begging despite glass shards—spared via Holy Water, reassigned.
Daily that?
“You'd be uncomfortable.”
“They'll adapt. How can chefs not know Lady's tastes?”
“I'll consider.”
Yulma grumbled professionally. Can't blame chefs; possessor tastes unknown. Evangeline might've liked rare. Empty plates assumed enjoyed.
Dismissed Yulma; count watching spoke heavily.
“As Flox said, you look plausible.”
What?
“More human.”
Ah. Shed beast guise. Evangeline rebelled pre-possession. I'm arrogant now; he calls improved.
Catch wine spill, chat maid—such praise? Original temper unimaginable. Explains exposed possession.
“At banquet, behave. Like now—enough.”
Count to point. Crown prince birthday warning. Jerk. First daughter chat: behave?
“Long time no see—greeting first?”
Dad like this evolved her villainess. Even mild me wants mischief. Inspect: family regret untreatable. Go maternal now.
“Yes... How long?”
“Funeral after, first?”
Two months? Neglected two months? Evangeline adult, not child. Daughter neglected? Still dad?
“Yes. Long time.”
Averted eyes, conceded. Annoying.
“Called for that? Useless dinner?”
Kanna/Misha saddened. Kanna missed meal; Misha decried pre-banquet eating, fasting.
“No. More important.”
Count teased ad-like. Spit it.
“Hosakwin Duke attends.”
Hosakwin. Father-in-law/son-in-law icy. Cut ties reason.
“Bond with duke.”
What? You suffered cutoff; why me clean? Explains original plot.
“Now? Why?”
Too late parenting. Regression only fix.
“Ill, rumor dying soon.”
Tsk. Gullible ears. Rumors: I wear human skin. Duke hale, not dying.
“Aging sentimental. Misses dead daughter. Your face mirrors Amarans; duke shaken seeing you.”
Amarans?
“Amarans—your mother.”
Count explained amnesia late.
Ah. Familiar ring.
Portraits resembled. Warmer than Evangeline. Like gentle heroine Kanna.
“No title, but inheritance eligible.”
Intent: inherit soon—schmooze fortune.
Trash. True villainess dad.
Flash: event? Original Evangeline tasked.
Approaches; duke knows shady, disowns, adopts lookalike heir: Kanna! Similar vibe.
Our Kanna perfect; fills backstory. Revenges villainess. Refreshing episode!
Interested. Count added weight.
“No appeal? Trade. Want from me?”
“Trade...”
Hm. Nothing material. Mother's money plenty. Comfortable future sans execution—count useless. Flees execution day, caught/guillotined.
Nothing needed, but can't approach empty-handed. No inheritance plans for him.
“Hope within my power.”
Assumed huge demand. Common sense here. Explains: Evangeline lacked.
Need... Ah. Count sparked idea.
Diary. Tore curse pages for letters; thinned. More diaries likely; none here. Territory?
Plus summoning circles.
“Your presence muddies circle influence.”
Gabriel's firm words. Low affinity certified by lead, but other circles possible!
“Visit countship?”
“Territory?”
Frowned, timing. Post-debutante, socials; one-two months?
“Month; two if prep.”
“Yes. Notify ahead.”
Nodded, pondered, muttered.
“Evangeline room there?”
Huh? Why none? Birth secret? Abused? Too mother-like.
“Why no room?”
Abuse? Won't spare.
“You wouldn't know: Amarans disliked territory; you stayed capital. Only I went.”
Amnesia-considered. Ah. Rural aversion. Fine.
“Prepare room. Month-two enough.”
Cozy wood tones... Lowlings suffer; silent.
“That's all?”
“No. Letter more.”
Not satisfied one; insatiable.
“Fine. No curses.”
Hmph. Will. Mine.
“Why? Mother's passionate love. Sent husband-calls only. Couldn't visit; letters instead. Or want real visit?”
Sipped dessert tea; count shivered. Ghosts scare? Serves.
“Knew nothing; care much.”
“Natural. Amnesia.”
Plus first-person; no name. Not titled 'Amarans'!
“Keep acting?”
“No worry, Father. Palace: behave.”
Mid-retort, silenced.
“You careful. Show pity for frail amnesiac daughter?”
Count issue: zero interest bred rumors. Neglect fuels 'even dad abandons villainess'.
Hit nerve; silent.
“I'll go.”
No more chat; Misha early for debutante.
Regretted instant return.
“Late!”
Misha fire-eyed waiting.
Grabbed; head-to-toe pamper. First post-possession knead! Even Gabriel: hand-hold/kiss. Oils perfumed floral.
Makeup/hair: Daisy/Hena under Misha. Kanna unskilled, cornered.
Hair: gold powder, curls fixed silky. Artisan skill?
Dress altered. Thought done; fittings revealed tweaks. 'Final final final final'.
Subtle changes invisible; obvious: ruby flower. Corsage/head trend; fresh flowers popular.
“Replace wilting; dedicated maids.”
“Fresh suits; mature unlike girls—differentiated.”
Circumlocuted age. Debut 16; four over. Senior amid freshmen. No flowers.
Ruby flower perfect over fresh. Matches eyes. Admiring gems, Misha winked slyly.
“Jewels: not me—Sir Gabriel.”
Gabriel? Heavy suddenly. Managed pond; overkill. Embarrassing...
White lace gloves done. Warm? Kanna preheated. Blushing reason:
“Rain outside. Lady catch cold?”
“Lady colds?”
“Yes! Frail.”
“...Kanna worries much.”
Misha admired. Shoulders proud. No sunshine heroine? Rainy; sunny heart. Smile tugged; thanked.
“Thanks.”
“No. So pretty!”
True: filthy pretty. Silky silver waves, rosy cheeks/lips—living doll. Romanta-sy villainess impact: heroine/lead stunned.
Done? Misha circled, satisfied, swooned.
“No regrets...”
“Artemisia? Wake!”
Daisy caught collapsing Misha. Faint? Snores.
“Fatigue collapse.”
Stood asleep? Rush job sleepless; bonus thick...
“Can't leave; room her.”
“Yes, Lady.”
Hena/Daisy supported out. Taller; feet dragged. Wrong way?
“Corpse from Lady's room!”
“Still alive.”
Others outside; open door. Hena... 'Still' implies eventual death?
“Fatigue faint; room please?”
“Y-Yes...”
Too heavy; servants. Tomorrow: 'Lady fainted Misha' rumor. Overwork true.
Rumors grow. Headache; duo returned. Misha sleeps; ready. Depart?
“Lady, depart now?”
“Banquet start?”
“8 PM; three hours.”
“Ask Count departure.”
No banquet experience; timing? Early socialize? No; leads late.
Mid-cliché recall, maid timid:
“L-Lady, Count left.”
What?
Short prep; ditched? Hours left—sneaky. No shared carriage, but annoyed.
Whatever. Slow go. No Toten; Marik chaperone, tense exorcist.
Delaying with Pudding play; Jelly window-called.
“Owner.”
Damn 'owner'. Post-Raphaella tease; stuck. Evangeline ignored.
“Someone coming?”
“Who?”
No one rain? Gabriel?
Window: rain. Jelly beastkin sight. Obvious.
Stared; shape shimmered—horse leaped. Not Gabriel; black like him.
Sodden cloaked dismounted; gate shut, halted outside.
“New presence... For owner? Fetch?”
Post-stalker scold; eyed. Nodded; tail-wagged excited. 'Fetch!' weird. Wolf or dog?
“No harm; gentle.”
Fear mangled delivery. Stalker hides; Gabriel knight/guest—no hurt.
“Yessh...”
Grumbled elongated; teleported—blink, cloaked before.
No, Jelly! Ground escort—not magic-dump! Magician forehead!
“Intact, as ordered.”
“Not mean... Good, Jelly.”
What more? Ignored headache; focused mystery.
Sodden cloak; unexpected voice.
“Lady Rohanson...”
“Marchioness Toten?”
Hood off: unforeseen. Why? No contact; dramatic pre-banquet? Movie? Romanta-sy dramatic entry.
Toten pale rain. Cloak insufficient. Marquisate distance; horse-rain wrecked.
Muttering; called, scanned confused, eyes wide.
“What? Outside moments ago?”
“...Said seeking Lady; brought. Wrong?”
Dunno. Shameless. Rain-dazed; ignore Jelly teleport.
Toten head-held confused.
“Yes... Seeking Lady.”
Luckily true. Chaperone?
“Carriage. Soaked.”
“Yes... Feared Lady ahead; horse urgent.”
Scold late; endured rain? How vicious view.
Daisy added logs; Hena towels. Toten wiped tears. Cold incoming.
Toten unfit banquet: drenched hair-face weeping-like. Red eyes. Cancel not chaperone?
Ghosted guilt; late visit.
“Too late either way.”
Cancel/accept: earlier contact. Oops; snide unintended.
“Yes. Too late...”
Toten teary twisted. Regret/sorry. Oops. Human delay fine.
“Waited.”
Snatched towel, wiped. Startled eyes round. Drowned rat aside; Marik escape—white knight. Brown horse.
“Chaperone?”
Stuck; beg. Toten ok; no exorcist tremble.
“Need carer seeing true self.”
“Yes, anything.”
Worked. Hesitationless. Yay! Good dawdle. Excuses Marik.
Avoided exorcist doom. Romanta-sy near-exorcism. Bluffed Raphaella; scared. Medieval torture normal fear?
“Knew I'd come?”
“No. No prophet.”
“True...”
No expect. Raphaella needed reverse-bet thrill! Shame.
“Thought Lady knew I'd come.”
Toten downcast. Hurt distrust? Ghosted; thief expecting trust?
“Rider ill meantime.”
Son excuse: innocent. Thief to righteous.
“Fever high; recalled today. Late... Remember words?”
“Which?”
What said? Butler praise only. Toten lifted eyes hesitant.
“Lean on you.”
“Me?”
Said?
“Yes. Lean ok.”
Convicted eyes; truthful.
Said. Comfort vague. Impression-charming. Moderation words.
“Still valid? Please help.”
Toten leaned; close. Backed; chin-up arrogant. Inch back?
...Chaperone ok; request first? Budget limits.
“Rider?”
“Yes. Only you revive.”
Ah. Son dire; debut day realization—rushed. Grasped straw.
“...Please. Return Rider.”
Toten teary. Told no method, rumors true—avoided. Thought shunned.
“Butler lets Dies steal marquisate.”
“Butler?”
Loyal grandpa?
“As Lady said, deceived. Ill son gap; husband's brother heir...”
Wait. Confusing? Grandpa trash? Me said? Praised only.
Toten briefed: grandpa/brother plot kill Rider, seize.
Serious: not cure—succession aid. Butler warned selfish.
Toten bit lip, clasped hands, eyed hesitantly.
“Please. Only Lady.”
Powerless; cure/positioning only fix. Me: notoriety, funds, recovery precedent.
Can I? Possession illusion. Toten weeping earnest; pondered, decided.
“Hena, time?”
“Marquisate detour ok.”
Heard? Detour fine.
Not omnipotent; listen/share burden. No cure; villainess fame protect Rider from grandpa/brother.
Unignorable. Give-take. Chaperone despite notoriety. Son excuse; day-of rush.
“Sir Gabriel said: model noble lady.”
Toten puzzled opener.
Rain-mussed: flattened hair, smudged makeup, torn dress. Far model.
“Can't take soaked chaperone. No clothes; marquisate.”
Toten eyes wide.
“Can't send alone rain. Escort.”
Plus horse here. Banquet; detour then palace.
“Thanks. Thank you, Lady.”
Toten teary moved. Count 'human'; Toten same—kindness shocks. Original scum?
“Hurry marquisate—ow!”
Stepped joyful; limped. Heel broken. Wrecked.
No match shoes... Similar size.
“Daisy. Mother's shoes? Misha fixed.”
“Yes.”
Brought.
“Fit?”
“Yes. But... Mother's relic ok?”
Warehouse find. Mother's organized low; one stuck adjacent.
Stained elegant; wrong size—not Evangeline. Discarded forgotten?
Awkward toss; Misha mistook mine, cleaned. Stain tough; unwearable size.
“Yes. Fine.”
Discarded—not relic. No barefoot.
Shod Toten; carriage. Marquisate detour; prepped.
Blindfolded Melek black-led; count fled reason. Muddy ghost-legs horror-film. Half-true: ghost driver. Death-ride.
“This...?”
“Yes. Board.”
Toten hesitated; boarded opposite meekly.
“Marquisate then palace.”
“Yes. Safe.”
Daisy bowed; Kanna waved hanky sad. Shoulder-pat; boarded. Hena most palace etiquette; accompanied.
Jelly 'guard' joined. Weapon: magic suppress trouble. Leg-crossed whistling; Toten frowned.
“That man...”
“Owner's dog.”
“My limb.”
Preempted nonsense. Audience-mind!
“I see. Lady's...”
“Depart.”
Toten suspicious; Melek moved. Rain smooth. Lifetime driver.
Marquisate soon; slowed. Arrived? Curtain: gloomy marquisate. Rain effect?
