Ch#80
Ch#80
Ch#80
“Ugh! Ah, Duke Kailas—my apologies!”
The old gentleman who had bumped into Cedric bowed his head in apology.
‘Am I no longer even able to walk straight?’
Cedric swallowed dryly, offered the old man a polite smile, and then pressed on along his path, struggling to maintain his composure.
The closer he got to the door leading to the garden, the more his footsteps staggered unsteadily. At that moment, something slender and sudden coiled around his arm like a snake.
He slowly turned his head to check.
It was a woman with black hair and pale skin. Her face blurred hazily in his vision, as if viewed through a fog. Strangely, though, her red lips stood out vividly amid the mist, as if they had been painted there just for him.
He stared blankly as those lips moved, whispering softly.
“You don’t have to hold back.”
Hold back? From what?
His dazed mind sluggishly tried to follow her words. As if reading his thoughts, she drew even closer and murmured again.
“I’ll make you feel good.”
Cedric could no longer even grasp what she meant. His body was already burning with a strange heat. What more could she possibly give him here?
“Come with me.”
She tugged at his arm. It wasn’t rough, but the gesture was firm. Though her strength wasn’t forceful, Cedric didn’t resist. His body simply followed where she led.
Strangely enough, she was guiding him toward the rear garden of Laurel Mansion—the very direction he had originally been heading.
Lights hung along the walkways, but the deeper corners of the garden remained dark and shadowed. The hedges formed narrow walls, concealing the soft sounds of hidden lovers whispering secrets and exchanging kisses in the darkness.
‘Why was I trying to come here?’
He vaguely recalled wanting to go to the garden before she appeared, but now he couldn’t remember his original purpose. The soft pressure of her breast against his arm seemed to cloud his thoughts. Her touch was… soft, strange, and somehow slightly unreal.
With feather-light strokes, she caressed up and down his forearm, continuing her ministrations. He should run away. He should feel repulsed.
But instead, a peculiar anticipation rippled in his chest.
“There’s a quiet spot this way.”
She led him with seductive, languid steps, and with every movement, a faint rose scent wafted through the air.
Even in his hazy state, Cedric thought it was odd.
‘Isn’t it February right now? Why does it smell like roses?’
His mind and body were acting separately. His dulled reason whispered doubts, but his feet kept stumbling forward.
His balance tipped forward, and he flinched. As he bent slightly, she wrapped her arm around his neck.
“Let’s do something fun in the greenhouse. No one will disturb us there.” She whispered in a soft, gentle voice. “Come on….”
Cedric couldn’t process her words. But somehow, his legs kept following her.
That was, until just before they reached the greenhouse. Cedric turned his head—and caught sight of something. A flash of pink dress fabric disappearing beyond the fence.
That fleeting clarity sliced through the fog like a blade.
“Let… go of me.”
He firmly shook off her hand from his arm, his gaze still fixed on the retreating pink silhouette.
“Cedric?”
The woman called his name in bewilderment. But Cedric didn’t respond. He shoved her aside and charged toward the direction where the pink vision had vanished.
His movements were clumsy, his limbs heavy. He couldn’t even be sure he was walking properly—but it didn’t matter.
‘Don’t go. Wait for me.’
Only the desperate urge to grasp that light, that slender hope, drove him deeper into the garden.
‘Have I come too far?’
Harriet looked around the darkening garden, feeling a slight unease stirring in her chest.
She had stepped outside for some air after more or less completing her ‘mission’ to restore Viviana’s reputation. She hadn’t expected to wander this far from the ballroom.
Originally, she had just wanted to sit and rest for a bit. But the romantic encounters of one distasteful couple after another had shattered the peace she sought.
In trying to avoid the muffled moans and laughter of other pairs, she had unwittingly ventured deep into the garden.
‘Well… at least it’s peaceful here. A bit chilly, but bearable.’
She arrived at a small stone pavilion hidden behind the fence and paused, listening carefully for sounds.
No suspicious noises. No whispering lovers.
Relieved, she let out a sigh and settled on the edge of the stone railing.
The empire’s winter was milder than most places. By early February, the winds softened, and the snow lessened a bit. Still, without proper layers, the cold was uncomfortably biting.
It wasn’t exactly warm, but she was glad she’d at least brought her lace shawl. Better than nothing.
‘I can’t stay out too long, or I’ll freeze. Just a few minutes, then back inside.’
She knew straying this far from the banquet hall could raise suspicions. But after nearly three hours of maintaining perfect posture, keeping a smile plastered on, and minding every single gesture to observe etiquette, Harriet desperately needed a break. Just a moment to breathe.
Confirming once more that no one was around, Harriet reached behind her back and loosened the tightly tied ribbon that had been cinching her dress.
“Ugh, finally. My waist….”
She leaned against the stone pillar with a sigh of relief. The touch was cold, but her muscles welcomed the support.
“Tomorrow… I’m not getting out of bed until lunchtime.”
She chuckled softly at the thought, murmuring to herself.
But the faint sound of shoes crunching grass and leaves interrupted her plans.
Harriet shot to her feet.
The ballroom lights glimmered faintly in the distance, but a scream from here wouldn’t reach anyone. Her heart pounded in her chest.
Should she run? Hide? Before she could decide, a gentle voice emerged from the darkness.
“I’m sorry for startling you. You’re Lady Harriet, aren’t you? I’m Tez Locke. Do you… remember me, by any chance?”
Tez Locke?
Harriet rummaged through the dusty corners of her memory.
Ah, right. The man who had shown up at the masked balls Bella frequented, holding a massive bouquet of roses—the second son of the Locke Earl family, Tez Locke.
He was tall, handsome, and infamous for his skill at seduction. Women fell for him like petals scattering in the wind.
He had earned the reputation of ‘the empire’s seducer.’ And Bella, naturally, had gained her own fame by rejecting him.
Meanwhile, Harriet had endured the mockery of pretending to be Bella while seducing him. Or at least, that was the story circulating in society.
In truth, it had always been Bella. In any case, that had been the first time Tez had failed to seduce a woman. He had even proposed marriage—an unexpected move from a man like him.
‘If only he had been the eldest son of the Locke family, Bella might have revealed her identity.’ Harriet thought bitterly.
If Bella had accepted, perhaps Harriet wouldn’t have suffered so much afterward.
Facing him now left a bitter taste in her mouth. She forced a smile.
“Yes… I remember. You’re the one who claimed we met at a masked ball.”
Tez smiled lightly and took a few more steps closer.
“I wanted to talk to you alone. But the opportunity never came.”
“What could you possibly want to discuss with me?”
“I have something to apologize for.” He spoke in a voice laced with regret.
“I know it’s too late, but I’m sorry. I should have said that the woman I spent the night with wasn’t you, but Bella. I was angry at her for pretending not to know me, and I didn’t think about how much you would suffer in my place.”
Harriet’s eyes widened.
“Wait a minute. So… you already knew it was Bella? Even back then?”
“How could I not?” Tez said softly. “A man remembers the woman he spends an intimate night with. The scent, the voice, the gaze—everything is different.”
Harriet was glad it was dark. In the daylight, her widely opened eyes might have let tears spill out.
“Even after seeing me bow my head and apologize to you… you said nothing?”
“I was a coward. I’m sorry.”
He bowed deeply, just as Harriet once had to him in her humiliation.
Seeing that made it hard to stay angry. But she couldn’t forgive him easily either.
“…Fine. I’ll accept your apology. But don’t ask for forgiveness. Not now.”
“Of course. I only wanted to express my regret, not demand anything.”
Then he tilted his head slightly and lowered his voice to a whisper.
“But… if you ever want revenge on Bella—I’d be happy to help.”
Harriet narrowed her eyes.
The clouds overhead parted slowly, allowing pale moonlight to filter through. She couldn’t see his expression clearly, but the implication in his voice was unmistakable.
Men who had once pursued Bella were never… quite right in the head.
“You’d help me get revenge on the woman you once loved? And I’m just supposed to believe that?”
“I’m a victim too.” He said calmly. “Is it so strange for two victims to join hands?”
“A victim?” Harriet couldn’t hold back a bitter laugh and let out a scoff.
Yes, humans were selfish by nature. But hearing him call himself a ‘victim’ in front of someone who had endured every arrow of scandal felt insulting.
“I used to believe that too. But now? You’re just one of the people who hurt me. So tell me—what terrible thing did Bella do to you to make you think of yourself as a victim?”
“That’s….”
He hesitated.
In that silence, Harriet fixed him with a cold, piercing gaze.
The game was shifting—and she would never be used again.
