CHAPTER 97………………………
“Good day, Lady.”
According to etiquette, the lady should have extended her hand, and the man should have kissed the back of it in greeting—but he stood there with his arms crossed.
Perhaps because of the man’s overwhelming presence, all the attention being drawn toward them made Roy Echelon feel distinctly uncomfortable. He forced himself to keep his expression under control. He considered slipping away, but that would only raise suspicion.
He was already being watched with distrust for having been close to Jacques Horel. He’d even heard whispers—quiet but spreading—that questioned his association.
It felt unfair. Yes, he had been friendly with the man, but that didn’t make them the same. How could anyone have known Jacques would commit such monstrous acts? He’d told the soldiers who came to question him exactly that.
But then—why had this young lady sought him out?
“At Baron Delos’s banquet, Jacques Horel said something rather interesting, didn’t he?”
Cordelia began lightly. Normally, proper decorum required a few pleasantries before easing into serious topics, but today she seemed intent on ignoring all such formalities.
‘That’s right, yes. He was wandering around with that fellow earlier. Met Miss Jasmine, too, didn’t you, Miss Jasmine?’
‘Ah, well…’
‘When she turned away with that water glass, she looked absolutely cold. But I suppose it’s understandable—one can’t keep Lady Cordelia waiting, after all.’
“I did think it was odd,” Cordelia continued. “Because as I heard it, Miss Jasmine told you all she was simply going to take care of some business. And yet…”
Her eyes lowered for a moment, her voice softening, before she lifted her head again to look at Roy. Though her eyes curved prettily, the blue within them was glacial.
“How did you immediately assume she was going to find me?”
Roy hesitated before cautiously replying,
“I don’t know why you’re asking me that. I simply assumed, since the two of you seemed close, that you came together.”
“No, that’s not it. None of you actually saw Miss Jasmine and me arrive together. And even when we met later, the topic never came up. Besides, during that conversation, she and I weren’t even standing near each other. We hadn’t known each other long, and even at the reading club, we never showed any special familiarity.”
Her voice was calm and precise, each point articulated clearly.
“So how could you so naturally link the two of us together?”
Cordelia tilted her head slightly.
“No matter how I think about it, it only makes sense if you’d already seen us together—or if someone told you we arrived together. The question is, who could that have been?”
The ambient noise around them gradually faded. Everyone pretended not to look but was clearly listening.
Of course they were. A kidnapping victim and someone known to be close to the kidnapper—it was irresistible gossip.
It was the same reason Lady Mirian had refused to attend any gatherings since her return.
Roy quickly scanned the crowd and spotted someone holding a glass in the distance. His face drained of color. If his eyes weren’t deceiving him, that man was none other than Duke Frederick Weitzen.
This was a modest event hosted by a low-ranking viscount’s family. What on earth was the duke doing here? For a man known to choose his appearances so selectively, this was extraordinary.
Roy’s instincts screamed that he’d walked into a trap. Still, he tried to recover the situation.
“Perhaps we should move somewhere more private to discuss—”
“I wanted to discuss this before, but the count refused to answer any of my messages,” Cordelia interrupted sharply. “It’s an important matter to me, and so I had no choice but to be… discourteous.”
She cut him off deliberately. If they moved elsewhere, he might find another excuse to flee. His repeated silence had already made that clear—so this was her only chance.
There were too many eyes here for him to run now. She had wanted to settle this quietly, but he had squandered that chance.
“But that’s not even the main thing I wanted to address.”
Cordelia shifted topics smoothly, watching Roy’s carefully controlled expression.
“Do you remember? When I asked about Miss Emilia’s whereabouts, you told me she was in the garden. But when I went there, the one I met was Jacques Horel.”
That was how she had realized who the culprit was—and she had nearly paid for it with her life.
“At first, I thought it was a mistake. Maybe she’d gone elsewhere. But later I learned that at that exact time, Miss Emilia went toward the main entrance and upstairs. She never went near the garden.”
When Cordelia had realized Emilia was the one who pushed her, Tyraine had secretly followed her movements from the ballroom all the way outside—confirming the truth.
“So why did you lie? Why send me to him?”
Cordelia gave a bitter laugh when he didn’t answer.
“You knew, didn’t you? You knew something was wrong with him.”
Even if he hadn’t been certain, he must have suspected something. The flicker in his eyes said as much.
“Were you hoping he’d… take care of me? Because you resented that I survived? Because you couldn’t stand to see the woman you liked accused?”
She’d already found his behavior suspicious—how he’d deflected others’ answers when she was questioning people about the culprit, how he’d looked at Emilia. She had guessed, but she’d kept her mouth shut.
Whatever his feelings, it would be Emilia Brodin who bore the consequences. Her reputation was already ruined; adding “seduced a man to cover her crime” would be unbearable.
“Emilia was cowardly, but you… you’re truly contemptible.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Apologize. For letting your personal feelings blind you to a crime—and for putting my life in danger.”
Cordelia lifted her chin proudly. She wanted to grab him by the collar, but that would only backfire.
Roy, as if mocking her restraint, replied coolly,
“I don’t see why I should apologize. It seems to me you’re the one letting emotions cloud your judgment.”
“What?”
“I regret what happened in the garden, but I fail to see how that concerns me.”
Cordelia’s jaw tightened. Roy continued, calm and cold.
“What Emilia Brodin did was unfortunate. But you survived unharmed, did you not? I can’t imagine what grievance drives you to make such a scene now.”
His voice slithered like a snake’s tongue, dismissing her anger as trivial.
“The same with Jacques Horel. If merely crossing paths with him put you in danger, then surely I was at greater risk than you. Ah, but of course—he took an interest in you instead. How unfortunate.”
His gaze swept slowly over her face. Cordelia’s blood boiled, but she clenched her fists and ground her teeth.
After Jacques Horel’s arrest, the truth of his crimes had become public—how he chose his victims, where the murders took place, the kinds of families the women came from.
Given that, she could easily see what Roy was implying—and it made her sick.
“So you’re saying I brought it on myself because of my face? Is that it?”
“Where there’s light, there must also be shadow.”
A confirmation, thinly veiled. Cordelia was speechless.
“Wow. Is an apology really that hard for you?”
She hadn’t expected him to apologize—after all, he’d ignored every letter—but still, hearing those words drained her strength.
“You’ve got to be kidding me. What was that? Say it again. Are you saying I deserved what happened to me because I’m beautiful?”
Her voice rang out clear and sharp across the now-silent ballroom.
“I didn’t say that exactly. But surely your looks have brought you more benefit than harm.”
A few people blinked, half in agreement before realizing how awful that sounded, averting their eyes. Frederick’s brow furrowed slightly.
“So because I’ve gained from it, I should also ‘endure’ being assaulted? How absurd. Tell me—if someone hit you over the head just because you’re a count, would you simply nod and say, ‘Ah, I see your point’?”
“That’s not the same—”
“It is the same. I’m saying it’s unjust to face mortal danger because of what you were born with. Goodness, your arrogance is unbelievable. I haven’t met anyone so shameless in years.”
Even if she could forgive what happened to her, she couldn’t forgive it for Mirian’s sake.
When Mirian disappeared, what rumors had spread? That she’d run away for love, that the “quiet little cat had climbed the stove.” All while she was being held captive, her life in danger.
Even after returning, she refused to go out in public, too traumatized to face the world. And now all of that suffering was being dismissed as “because she was beautiful”?
It was outrageous.
Cordelia strode forward until she stood right before Roy, her voice low and trembling with fury.
“Apologize.”
Her blue eyes blazed.
“I said apologize.”
He pressed his lips together, defiant. Cordelia smiled—a sharp, dangerous curve. Frederick’s fingers twitched around his glass. He murmured under his breath,
This is going to get ugly.
“Fine. If, as you say, my appearance is the problem—then so be it.”
Everyone has a breaking point. She heard the imaginary pop of the cork flying off her restraint.
“You there! Come here!”
Startled by the uncharacteristic command in her voice, a servant hurried over.
“Y-yes, my lady?”
“Scissors.”
“Pardon?”
“Go get me a pair of scissors. The gardening shears. Right now.”
At her ice-cold tone, the servant bolted and soon returned with a large pair of shears—sharp enough, by the look of them, to cut through bone.
Someone tried to intervene at last.
“Lady Cordelia, wait—violence isn’t the answer. Please, calm yourself—”
“Everyone. Stay where you are.”
The quiet voice belonged to Frederick, who had been silently observing until now. Instantly, the room fell deathly still, and every gaze turned toward Cordelia.
