CHAPTER 17
“Eliza, you haven’t been able to sleep well lately, have you?”
“Oh my, how did you know? I’ve been having so many nightmares. Maybe that’s why my skin is getting rougher too…”
Everett cut off her increasingly irrelevant talk.
“The nightmares aren’t what’s important. It’s your future that matters.”
At the word future, Eliza leaned in closer.
“Oh, what does my future look like?”
“You’ll soon face a decision that will shake your life. Someone will ask something difficult of you.”
“A request…?”
“Yes. When that time comes, remember this: whatever it is, you must make the choice that’s best for you.”
Eliza, who had been so excited just moments ago, now stared at Everett in silence.
“You come first. No matter what anyone says, your life is the most important.”
Her expression began to twist.
“Um, Master Naz? I have no idea what you’re talking about. How am I supposed to understand when you speak so vaguely?”
Her softly trembling voice gradually turned sharp. Then she slammed the table and stood up.
“Ha! The great fortune-teller? What a joke. Just a bunch of nonsense. You were saying weird things the first time too, and you’re still at it.”
Everett calmly stared at the agitated Eliza, having anticipated her reaction.
She just doesn’t want to believe it.
The glass cup on the shaky table fell to the ground.
Amid the scattered shards, her thin ring glinted under the light.
“I don’t want to give you a single penny, but out of my great generosity, I’ll let this go, you fraud! Take that ring and get lost!”
Still spewing curses, Eliza turned abruptly to leave.
“Eliza.”
Everett called to her softly as she was walking out.
“Eliza, leave.”
Eliza snorted in disbelief.
“What… what did you say?”
“Isn’t the fact that you’re this angry proof that you understood exactly what I meant?”
She didn’t respond.
“Eliza, your prince on a white horse isn’t looking at you. So leave now. If you don’t…”
Everett held up the Five of Pentacles, pointing to the woman in ragged clothes, walking with difficulty.
“You’ll end up carrying all of that man’s burdens. And that’s a weight you can’t bear. So leave.”
“You… you crazy witch!”
Eliza slammed her bag hard against the table. The loud bang echoed all the way outside the shop.
“Auntie, shouldn’t we go in?”
Outside the door, Masha and Daisy had been standing since Eliza started shouting.
Daisy wrung her hands anxiously as Eliza’s angry voice grew louder.
“Let’s wait. If we go in, it might just make things worse. The lady can handle herself—she’s no ordinary woman.”
Even as she said it, Masha couldn’t shake her worry.
Inside, Eliza was trembling all over, unable to control her rage.
“I—I’ll soon be the Viscountess of Kestharican! How dare a lowly fortune-teller speak to me like that?! Leave? Carry all the burdens?!”
BANG!
She slammed the table again with enough force to break it.
Daisy and Masha finally burst through the door.
Eliza screamed at them.
“You bring in a fraud like her and actually charge people? I won’t let you all get away with this! I’ll expose everything—just wait!”
Shoving Daisy aside, Eliza stormed out, slamming the pub door behind her with a deafening bang.
“Miss, are you alright? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine.”
“Is Eliza insane? What’s wrong with her?”
Masha rushed over, checking Everett to make sure she was unharmed.
“I’m alright. She just got worked up on her own.”
“She’s crazy if she thinks she can talk to you like that.”
Everett let out a quiet, bitter laugh.
“Some people react violently when they don’t hear what they want.”
“What do you mean, what she wanted to hear?”
“She wanted to be told she’d live happily ever after.”
“What did you say to her?”
“I told her that if she wanted to live happily, she should leave right away.”
Eliza, who had sworn revenge, threw herself into the task with passion.
At every gathering, she badmouthed the tarot reader Naz, calling her a fraud and claiming the rumors about her skills were spread by hired people.
Every time she said Naz’s predictions were nonsense, she would cover her mouth with her left hand and laugh.
On her fourth finger was an unnaturally large, glittering ring.
If someone asked about it, she would blush and shyly say:
“My prince on a white horse has come for me too.”
Thanks to her relentless efforts, the number of customers visiting the tarot shop noticeably declined for a while.
One day, Daisy, unable to stand it anymore, stormed off to confront Eliza and demand an apology.
But instead of an apology, she returned with different news.
“Miss… Miss…”
Daisy rushed into the shop, breathless.
Because the tavern had closed early that day, Everett was enjoying a light snack.
“Slow down, someone died or something?”
Daisy’s eyes widened.
“How did you know someone died?”
Everett had already heard earlier that day from another customer: Eliza had been arrested.
“Miss, seriously, stop drinking Kuna and tell me—how did you know?”
“Daisy, nothing moistens life like an iced Kuna after a productive day.”
“Miss, please—stop joking around!”
Masha looked between them, asking what was going on.
“Eliza is dead.”
Tears welled in Daisy’s eyes.
Everett took another sip of her Kuna, now with a solemn expression.
The drink that had been sweet moments ago now tasted bitter, like medicine sliding down her throat.
“She’s really dead, then. I thought she’d end up in prison. I even considered the worst-case scenario… but still…”
In her mind, Everett pictured the King of Swords.
Eliza wasn’t executed by a government executioner—but by the Viscount of Kestharican himself.
Her crime: poisoning Dora Kestharican.
The viscount begged endlessly—pleaded to be allowed to end the life of the one who took his only daughter.
His wish was granted.
As the cold blade flew toward her neck, Eliza’s eyes were still searching for Chad.
“My love, Eliza. Please confess that you killed Dora—for me.”
“But Chad… you’re the one who…”
“My love, you know better than anyone that Dora was going to die soon anyway.”
Chad had, as planned, won over Dora and the viscount. He became the viscount’s son-in-law.
But human greed is a bottomless pit.
After gaining one thing, he craved more.
How long would he have to humor the sickly, irritable Dora?
She was going to die anyway. Would it really matter if he sped things up a bit?
If only Dora—and the old viscount—were gone, everything would be his.
“Eliza, my love. You’ve cared for Dora so sincerely. Everyone in the empire knows that. The judge will surely take that into account. So please—just endure it a little in prison. No matter what it takes, no matter how much money I must spend—I’ll get you out. My love, you are the only woman for me.”
Chad cupped Eliza’s face gently in his hands.
“Eliza, Viscountess of Kestharican.”
His final words clouded Eliza’s judgment.
By then, Everett’s advice had long vanished from her memory.
But contrary to Chad’s promises, she didn’t go to prison. She went straight to the execution grounds.
“My love, Chad. Even if I’m no longer with you, please don’t grieve for too long.”
Facing death, Eliza still worried only about Chad.
While searching for him among the crowd, the viscount’s enraged roar rang out.
At the same time, the chill of the blade and the fear of death crept in.
In that final moment, Eliza finally saw Chad’s face.
Ah, Chad…
She thought he would be crying, devastated.
But instead, Chad looked at her execution—and smiled with satisfaction.
Before her breath fully stopped, Everett’s words flashed through her mind like lightning.
Ah… so this is what Master Naz meant. If I had just left then… or even refused to confess in his place… this wouldn’t have happened. In the end, it was all because of my foolish greed.
Eliza’s severed head rolled across the execution grounds.
The incident concluded as the tragic end of a maid who confessed to poisoning the viscount’s daughter.
But the public’s curiosity shifted in an unexpected direction.
To the tarot master—Naz.
Because Eliza had loudly repeated the prophecy Everett gave her in her vengeful rants, when news of her death spread, people recalled the prediction.
If she had left when told, she would’ve lived.
The tarot had foreseen her death with chilling accuracy.
And so began the legend of the tarot master Naz, known as the greatest fortune-teller in the capital.
