Chapter 125
The one who entered through the door was Chloe. She, too, seemed taken aback at the sight of Isabelle and froze awkwardly in the middle of the room, unable to move.
“What are you doing just standing there?”
“I-I’m sorry.”
At Rosalyn’s prompting, Chloe approached with a face full of fear.
Rosalyn glanced between the unusually tense Chloe and Isabelle, who was avoiding eye contact with a look as if she had stepped in something unpleasant. She smirked and spoke.
“I think I roughly know how you found out. So, did you finish the errand properly?”
“Yes. I sent it along with the final letter, just as you instructed, Master.”
“Good work. You may leave now.”
Chloe bowed her upper body weakly, glancing at Isabelle one last time before disappearing as she grasped the doorknob.
Once she was gone, a chilling breeze filled the spacious room. Unable to endure the cold atmosphere, Isabelle, without anyone prompting her, spoke hurriedly.
“It’s not Chloe’s fault! I—I was the one who threatened her so she’d think it would be boring if I didn’t say anything…”
“She’s a clever child, isn’t she? She does what she’s told perfectly but knows where to step in and where not to. That’s a rare quality.”
Isabelle, puzzled by the sudden comment, felt Rosalyn reassure her as if to say not to worry.
“I won’t hold that child accountable. I believe there must be a reason she told you.”
“You really care for Chloe, don’t you?”
“In a place full of betrayal and schemes, there are few who purely do what they are asked without interfering elsewhere. Losing her would make me sad instead.”
Relieved that Chloe was safe, Isabelle exhaled in relief. But her curiosity about what Rosalyn had asked Chloe to do immediately returned.
“May I ask?” She looked at Rosalyn cautiously. Rosalyn nodded, as if saying it was fine to ask.
“Duke Roschelle, may I ask what you had Chloe do?”
“I figured you’d be curious. A professional instinct, perhaps? You have sharp intuition.”
“Haha, I hear that a lot.”
Sophia often scolded her for being such a question-asking bird, but it happened frequently enough to have become habitual.
“I investigated you and confirmed he had died. Until then, it was just a suspicion, but once his death was certain, I thought the other wives should know the truth. So, I staged it as if he wrote it himself and sent the money along with the final letter.”
“So, you wanted Mr. Hilbert to remain a good person in their eyes?”
“Yes. I wanted him to stay a good person until the very end.”
Isabelle could understand Rosalyn’s reasoning, but she worried whether Rosalyn was truly okay with this. Despite still loving him, she might be trapped in guilt, punishing herself for her betrayal.
“Is it because you feel sorry for him?”
“Is there any other reason? I betrayed him.”
“Is that really all? Is there nothing else you want to say to Mr. Hilbert?”
Rosalyn’s expression darkened momentarily. But before she could reply, a sudden bout of coughing took her down.
Cough, cough! Cough!
“My goodness, Duke Roschelle!”
As Isabelle moved to help, a group of maids came in and supported Rosalyn, helping her stand.
Despite the cold sweat and the effort it took to stay composed, Rosalyn spoke calmly.
“I’d like you to leave now. Your curiosity has been satisfied, so I hope you won’t come looking for me like this again.”
“…I will leave for today.”
Isabelle tried to leave the parlor, responding vaguely to Rosalyn, but her frustration built up, and she turned back.
“Duke Roschelle. It might be presumptuous, but I need to ask while it’s on my mind. Have you ever seen Mr. Hilbert’s other wives?”
“….”
Rosalyn’s pupils flickered slightly. She probably didn’t have the courage to check that. That must have been why such a ridiculous misunderstanding arose.
“All of Mr. Hilbert’s other wives shared one thing—they all resembled you.”
“What do you mean…?”
“I believe he continued to love you, even after leaving here.”
Having finally said what she needed to, Isabelle felt relieved and grabbed the doorknob. Before leaving the parlor, she glanced back one last time at Rosalyn, who, in between coughing, had a handkerchief stained with dark red blood over her mouth.
The dark stain was blood. Was it hemoptysis? Was her health that poor?
The image of her final appearance stayed in Isabelle’s mind. If she was coughing up blood, her condition must have been at its limit.
At that moment, someone tapped the table in front of Isabelle, who was lost in worry. She looked up to see Kezeph, smiling charmingly.
“You’re here?”
Isabelle relaxed her crossed arms to greet him.
“I’m a bit late. I had some things to take care of. But why did you want to meet in such a public place?”
“Oh, that?”
Isabelle frowned as she watched Kezeph glance around the crowded café. Slamming her hand on the table with an expression full of frustration, she spoke.
“I didn’t want to say what I might to you if we were alone.”
“What do you mean…?”
“You knew Mr. Hilbert had a fiancée, right?”
Ah, that. Realizing what Isabelle meant, Kezeph brushed his face with an awkward expression.
“Where did you hear that?”
“That’s classified information, so I can’t tell you. But seriously, knowing he had a fiancée, you said that, putting me in an awkward position?”
Kezeph, who had been looking troubled, immediately turned shameless and shrugged as if it was nothing.
“Yes, he has a fiancée, but it’s a marriage of necessity.”
He leaned close and whispered into her ear.
“Isn’t that how most arranged marriages work?”
Isabelle leaned back, letting out a hollow laugh at his audacity.
She had seen countless stories where couples initially arranged to marry eventually fell in love.
Well, that was in novels, but this was a novel-like world anyway.
Still, it wasn’t much comfort.
“Judging by your expression, you don’t understand at all.”
“No, do you know how anxious I was at the time?”
“But what I say is true. You two are meant to be married, but you’ve barely even seen each other yet.”
At this point, Isabelle was curious—who was this woman promised in marriage without even properly seeing her face?
“Some houses promise their daughters in marriage without knowing their faces?”
“You must have heard of it. The Ruheld Marquis family.”
Isabelle’s expression soured.
That’s Rosy’s family, and they don’t even have a daughter.
“Oh, I didn’t mention this. The Ruheld Marquis recently adopted a foster daughter. Rumors say she is the Marquis’s hidden child, or a child they sponsored from a young age, but there’s no confirmed information.”
“Then why did she become his fiancée?”
Even as Isabelle grew more confused, Kezeph answered with a matter-of-fact expression.
“Because everything about her was perfect.”
