Brandon shouted angrily as Flora suddenly barged in and began piling things haphazardly on the floor.
“Mother, what are you doing!”
“We don’t have time! If we stay like this, we’ll all die. Every last one of us will die!”
“Why would we die? Thanks to that Selina running off, I’m the Acting Head of the Family now. I’m the temporary head of the caravan. Once Father passes away, everything this family owns will be ours, so where on earth would we go?”
“Ours? Never. If we stay here, we’ll be slaughtered like dogs right alongside the Count. Not a chance. How many years have I spent living despised and humiliated? I didn’t come this far to die a dog’s death! Pack your bags, hurry!”
Under Flora’s sharp glare, Brandon reluctantly started pretending to pack his things while grumbling under his breath.
“And even if we pack our bags right now, do we even have a place to go? The village we used to live in… is gone!”
The moment Flora heard that, she collapsed onto the floor and burst into tears.
“This is all because of that cursed Selina. They could have just sent her to the Imperial family, but the Count hid her away… How am I supposed to live now? How am I supposed to survive!”
“What do you mean? Why would she go to the Imperial family? What does she have to do with them?”
“They say the mansion being locked down for days is all because of her! She received an order from His Majesty the Emperor, but she ran off with the Duke because she didn’t want to enter the Imperial Palace! I should have known something was wrong the moment that man—who isn’t even sick—shut down the mansion and started issuing orders only to you. Good grief.”
“To the Imperial family? Could she possibly be marrying His Highness Crown Prince Erik? Really?”
It sounded utterly unbelievable to Brandon.
“It’s not as if His Highness is blind. As long as Miss Hazel is around, why would he marry someone like her? Mother, you must have misunderstood. Father simply angered His Majesty because he tried to force Selina into the Imperial family.”
Brandon quickly began piecing the events together the way he wanted to believe them.
“Since the Imperial family rejected her, Selina tried clinging to the Duke by any means necessary, so she latched onto him. How wicked. She ought to know her place—how dare she lust after the two most prominent men in the Empire? Does she think she’s Miss Hazel?”
“Why are you still standing there instead of packing your bags!”
“Mother, this isn’t a problem we can solve by running away. Whether she went to the Imperial family or to the Duke, a marriage won’t happen in a single day. We need to seize this opportunity to get rid of that Selina and secure an honorable place for ourselves in this family.”
Flora grew even more frustrated at Brandon’s complete failure to grasp the gravity of the situation.
“His Majesty could come at any second and chop the Count’s head off in his fury, and you’re talking about this!”
“Just stop screaming. It makes no sense that the Imperial family would want to take that fool. Besides, you didn’t hear what happened in the study clearly either, did you?”
“Well… that’s true, but…”
Flora hesitated. She wasn’t entirely certain of what she had heard either, since she had only been eavesdropping.
“Father was definitely the one trying to push Selina into the Imperial family. After her engagement to Morgan Patel was broken off, she had nowhere left to go. Even if she is the daughter of a friend, His Majesty must have rejected the idea.”
Brandon’s words began to sound plausible to Flora, so she asked,
“Then what about her running away with the Duke?”
“For Selina, since the Crown Prince wasn’t an option, she tried clinging to the Duke to prove a point, so she stuck to him. And His Majesty is furious because he thinks the Count tried foisting such a shameless girl onto the Imperial family. That’s why the Count is feigning illness: to make it look as if he’s suffering over his daughter’s rebellion.”
When that explanation sounded closer to reason, Flora calmed down and began listening intently to her son.
“His Highness has a far more magnificent partner. If we start supporting her right now, she might acknowledge our loyalty when she becomes Her Majesty the Empress. That way, our future will be secured.”
“Is there truly such a girl?”
“Yes. As for that Selina, even the ducal house is too good for her. It seems the Duke’s family doesn’t know her true colors yet, which is why they’re indulging her.”
“And what do you intend to do?”
“I’ll mobilize everyone we know to spread the truth about Selina. With the Count hiding away and pretending to be sick, no one will know who started the rumors.”
“Yes, that’s it. People don’t know what she’s really like yet, but once they do, they’ll never accept her. We have to teach that wench an unforgettable lesson so she never raises her head again.”
Flora said this, then slapped her own cheeks hard with both hands.
“And why should I run? Who would benefit from that? If there is a misunderstanding, we must clear it up, and we have to stay here no matter what to survive. Look at what I endured just to get here. There’s no way I’m running.”
‘If it comes down to it, I’ll threaten to tell His Majesty the secret I know.’
Flora decided she could not possibly run away like this.
The Hazel townhouse sat on the border between the capital and the neighboring town. It was nothing more than a tiny mansion without even a courtyard, tucked away in a desolate spot with no other houses nearby.
The location was so remote that the gifts sent by Miss Hazel’s supporters had to be gathered and transported two or three times a week, turning the sight of the procession into frequent gossip among the commoners.
“The young lady of that house must be truly remarkable.”
“Why’s that?”
“Gifts arrive for her two or three times a week without fail. When she first moved here, people mocked her and said she lived worse than wealthy commoners. But look at her now—she rides around in a noble carriage.”
“Seems she knew how to bring the right people into her circle.”
“I heard they adopted the Baron’s niece from some distant village.”
“And you actually believe she’s his niece? Don’t you have eyes?”
“If she isn’t his niece, then what is she?”
“They bought a commoner girl.”
“No way… Could that really be it?”
“How are we supposed to know the inner workings of noble minds? But since the house had no heir and they were dirt poor, they must have resorted to whatever means necessary to preserve their inheritance.”
Buying a commoner… It was a method nobles only turned to when they lacked a child to inherit the family name, and it required a fair sum of money to pull off.
“They say that house couldn’t even put food on the table. Moving here happened only after selling off all their land.”
“Bankrupt or not, they’re still nobles. They must have borrowed money from somewhere.”
“If that’s the case, why didn’t they buy a boy instead of a girl?”
“Probably because boys cost more.”
As their chatter grew heated, the tavern keeper, who had been listening in silence, stepped up.
“Keep running your mouths about the nobility, and you might disappear without anyone ever noticing. Watch yourselves.”
Those ominous words struck them into silence at once. And he was right—within the household of Baron Hazel lay a secret the common folk could never imagine.
“M-Miss.”
“What if someone heard you and thought I was still just a young lady? Can’t you do anything right?”
“Ah…”
“Baron Hazel, I gave you money to buy my identity. If you can’t play your part properly so people don’t get suspicious, we’re going to have a serious problem. How many times must I tell you that I didn’t come here to play games?”
“I apologize… I apologize.”
Ingrid let out a sigh and asked,
“Why did you call for me?”
“You said the letters addressed to you from your supporters should be gathered separately each time. Here they are.”
“Oh… again. Good heavens… completely useless. Put the letters and gifts down and get out.”
“Yes, of course.”
Baron Hazel set down the letters and gifts he held in his hands and hurried out of the largest room in the house.
The one occupying the finest space in this cramped dwelling was not the master of the house, but Miss Ingrid Hazel.
She was a woman who had suddenly appeared one day claiming to be the third daughter of an elderly baron from the countryside nobility, taking up residence in the home.
And she was the very reason the Hazel household had enjoyed greater glory since arriving in the capital than it ever had before.
She had bought her identity from Baron Hazel, and upon moving from the provinces into this modest townhouse in the capital, she had told him: “Baron, how long do you think we will live in a house like this? Once I step foot into high society, getting out of here will only be a matter of time.”
Though her plans had unfolded more slowly than she anticipated, Ingrid had indeed succeeded in catching the Crown Prince’s eye and winning his heart.
Yet Ingrid’s ambitions were not so simple.
“What? What does that woman think she’s doing? When she targeted the Crown Prince, she clung to him so pestilentially she was like a thorn in his side, and now she’s seducing the Duke? What on earth draws men to that wretched thing anyway? What is she to deserve all this!”
Unable to contain her boiling rage, Ingrid shredded the letter to pieces, flung them into the fireplace, and screamed at the top of her lungs.
In the adjoining room, Baron Hazel cursed the paper-thin walls, clamping his hands over his ears as he trembled in terror.
