Chapter – 11
The banquet was brought to a halt.
Jane hurriedly pulled down her skirt and curled up in a corner of the terrace. She was wearing the same clothes as the servants who had been attending the banquet.
Rachel felt her chest turn cold.
She had read the original work and, having prepared for many contingencies, had been confident that she knew everything about Theodore and Jane.
But Theodore was beyond imagination.
To think he’d use the Crown Prince’s birthday banquet as a trysting place.
She had thought there was nothing left to be shocked by, yet perhaps because she was flustered, her legs gave out. Some noble young ladies standing nearby helped support Rachel.
“…Theo.”
At Rachel’s quiet voice, Theodore, who had frozen in place, moved. He hastily straightened his clothes and searched the crowd for his wife.
“R–Rachel. This is, well, I mean… it just happened… I was drunk, and…”
After mistaking a gift meant for his mistress as one for his wife, inviting the mistress into the house, and even gazing at her lovingly right in front of Rachel, he now seemed flustered only after being caught.
Or was he merely pretending to be flustered because there were so many witnesses?
Before anyone noticed, Berengella had also blended into the crowd. Perhaps out of shame, she could not step forward to scold Theodore; she only stayed in place, hiding her face behind a fan.
“…Hello, Jane. We meet again here.”
At Rachel’s slightly hoarse voice, the nobles began to murmur.
Jane, who had been shivering in the corner of the terrace, lifted her head.
“C–Countess…”
“You said you’d give me a perfume Theo likes as a gift. Back then, I thought you were simply someone without manners. But now that I see it, it seems you wanted to boast about your relationship with Theo to me.”
“Ah… I’m truly sorry…”
“Sorry? Don’t talk nonsense about being sorry.”
Jane’s face crumpled.
“You deliberately appeared before me and even committed something so sordid with my husband at a banquet full of nobles. Did you think you wouldn’t be caught? Or were you secretly hoping to be?”
As Rachel continued speaking, the surrounding whispers grew louder.
“Count Elosa has no sense of shame.”
“My goodness, wearing cufflinks that are a token of love and doing something like that with another woman…”
“How utterly disgusting.”
“And to think someone like that is a count. He’s dragged the honor of the nobility through the mud.”
“Who is that woman? I’ve never seen her among the palace servants.”
“Don’t forget that the count was the one who prepared this banquet.”
“Oh my, are you saying he prepared the Crown Prince’s birthday banquet just to bring that woman here? How brazen.”
Behind her fan, Berengella’s face had turned white.
Cyan, who had been standing at a distance the whole time, approached Theodore. At some point, he had taken a dining knife into his hand.
A sense of déjà vu washed over Rachel. The scene overlapped with the time Graham had threatened Theodore.
“Theodore Elosa, Count.”
At the low voice, Theodore jerked his head up in shock.
Cyan pointed the knife toward him.
“To use His Highness the Crown Prince’s birthday banquet for personal purposes—how irreverent.”
“Y–Your Grace…!”
“The count will have to pay the price for insulting the imperial family. What punishment to impose will be carefully reviewed by the imperial family and the council of noble elders. And—”
As Cyan paused, his golden eyes flashed. It was the sharp aura he usually concealed when dealing with others.
Though he had lowered himself while pretending to be a guild informant, he was still of imperial blood—once even deemed more suitable for the throne than his older brother, Sigar.
Crushed by Cyan’s pressure, Theodore collapsed to the ground. He squirmed, trying to crawl backward in escape.
“Why are you trying to run?”
Cyan knelt on one knee in front of Theodore. After briefly peering into the terrified man’s eyes, he raised the knife high—then stabbed it into the ground between Theodore’s legs.
Crunch!
“Aaagh!”
Theodore fainted, clutching his vital area. Near the knife embedded in the floor, a pink cufflink rolled away.
As if a fainted man were beneath his notice, Cyan picked up the cufflink and rubbed it clean against his shirt cuff.
“Didn’t I tell you? It was something I wanted very much as well.”
Murmuring words the owner would never hear, Cyan left the terrace with measured steps. He stopped in front of Rachel and reached out, covering her eyes.
“It’s filthy. Don’t look.”
There was no authority or pressure in Cyan’s whispering voice.
“…Your Grace.”
“Turn around. I’ll escort you to the carriage.”
She felt like a doll obeying commands. As if bewitched, Rachel quietly turned around.
While people’s gazes were briefly drawn to Rachel and Cyan, Berengella rushed to Theodore.
“Count, Count! Please wake up! Count! Theodore!”
Smack!
Behind them rang the loud sound of Berengella slapping the unconscious Theodore’s cheek.
This was bad.
Truly bad.
‘Will you be all right?’
‘I already know everything—why would I be surprised or shocked?’
‘The human heart isn’t that simple.’
Cyan had been right. She had thought that knowing everything would spare her from shock, but that was arrogance.
After all, even watching a cheating scene in a drama makes one angry. Seeing a man who had been her husband—even if only for a few days—commit adultery right before her eyes, it was only natural to be shaken.
She hadn’t thought it through. It felt dirtier than she had expected.
Biting her lip, Rachel staggered down the palace corridor.
The corridor was empty.
Right after the scandalous revelation of a count’s affair at the Crown Prince’s birthday banquet, everyone must have rushed to the scene. The mistress and the count were still pinned on the balcony.
It was a relief not to run into anyone.
“Madam.”
“Ah!”
At the voice calling her, Rachel flinched.
She didn’t collapse against the wall, but her already racing heart began pounding uncontrollably.
She had been so distracted that she’d forgotten Cyan was with her.
“Y–Your Grace.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m just… not myself right now.”
“I understand.”
“I’m sorry. You warned me that I might be shocked, and yet here I am, making a scene.”
Her voice trembled.
Watching her quietly, Cyan reached out.
Thinking he was about to touch her, she hunched her shoulders—but his hand passed her by. Click. He turned what looked like a decorative fixture, and the wall split open, revealing a hidden door.
Her ears burned with embarrassment.
“There was a door here.”
“The palace has many secret passages. It would be best if you rested for a while.”
She wanted to refuse, but her legs were shaking too much.
“…Thank you.”
“I’ll have the carriage prepared shortly. If you need warm tea or anything else, please say the word.”
“No. I couldn’t possibly burden Your Grace with such requests. You’ve already done more than enough for me.”
Cyan shook his head.
“It’s only natural to care. Half of this is… my responsibility, after all. I presented the evidence in a rather extreme way.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Rachel staggered to the chair in the sitting room Cyan indicated and sank down. As the tension drained from her body, she slumped forward and covered her face with both hands.
Calm down. Calm down.
This was what she had wanted. Theodore’s affair had been exposed to the world—now all that remained was divorce.
Of course, Theodore wouldn’t give in easily. There were many scenarios to prepare for: continued denial despite being caught, refusing to sign the divorce papers, and so on.
…For now, she would rest for just one day and think.
She let out a long sigh—when suddenly something cold touched her cheek. Startled, she swatted it away. Clatter. The sound of metal hitting the floor echoed.
Cyan, whose hand she had struck, stepped back.
“…I’m sorry. I called to you, but you didn’t respond, so I applied the medicine without asking. There was a wound.”
“A wound?”
Only then did she notice the scent of herbs. She realized that what had fallen to the floor was a medicine jar.
Come to think of it, she had forgotten to treat the injury she’d gotten during the scuffle with Theodore the day before.
Clearing his throat, Cyan picked up the jar.
“The palace keeps medicine in every sitting room. His Highness the Crown Prince is quite mischievous, so injuries are frequent.”
“I see.”
“It bothered me from the moment I first saw you. How did such an injury end up on the countess’s face?”
“It was nothing.”
She knew well that injuries—especially visible ones—were a serious matter for nobles. But she didn’t want to publicize an injury caused by conflict between her husband and son. Whatever Theodore did, Graham had to be protected.
When she touched her cheek, her fingertips came away sticky with ointment.
Watching her slow movements, Cyan hesitated before asking,
“…Madam. Are you all right?”
“Of course. It’s such a minor wound that I forgot to apply medicine.”
“I meant your husband’s affair.”
“Ah.”
Of course she was fine. She already knew, and she had obtained such clear, undeniable proof—there was no reason not to be fine.
She wanted to smile brightly and say so, but she had no strength. Rachel managed a faint smile and forced out a single word.
“I’m fine.”
She had simply been shocked by how filthy the scene was.
She was about to continue speaking when Cyan’s finger pressed gently against her lips.
