Chapter 30
“I… I was impressed. Truly amazing! I support you—I always have. I hope you know I’m always cheering for you with all my heart.”
Baron Haines’s praise wasn’t just empty words. Since Herace had played a key role in repaying his debts, his eyes were practically glowing with affection. Classic case of looking at someone through rose-colored glasses.
But unlike him, most nobles had gone pale. Others shrank back, their eyes full of disdain.
I stuck to the plan and lifted my empty wine glass.
“Your Grace, I appreciate the drink, but the shards must be cleared quickly before someone else gets hurt. I’ll fetch a servant. This should be cleaned right away.”
Herace’s demeanor shifted in an instant. As if I were the only one in the room, he leaned close and locked eyes with me.
“Thinking of the other nobles—how thoughtful of you. But why should you move?”
His voice was honey-sweet, shocking the entire crowd. Some even rubbed their eyes as if they couldn’t believe it was real.
“So, all I need to do is clean this glass? If you need anything else, just say so.”
“Cleaning it is fine. I can do it.”
The onlookers were rattled. If I could manage a man like him, maybe they’d been mistaken about me all along? Their confusion was plain on their faces.
“But then I’d be left with nothing to do for you. I’ll fetch more water too. Just wait here.”
After offering Baron Haines a polite farewell, Herace strode off into the crowd. Even after he disappeared, silence lingered like a heavy fog.
The impact he’d left behind was strong. Soon, nobles who had only given me brief greetings began striking up longer conversations.
I drew on every bit of social skill I’d trained with Melissa and Herace—speaking calmly, holding myself with poise, managing my expressions with elegance. Slowly, their attitudes softened.
Not bad at all.
Honestly, it was even a little fun. Seeing their reactions change exactly as I hoped—it made me wonder how much further I could push this.
That’s when Whisler appeared before me.
His gaze swept over my dress, and his whole body froze. Then his eyes went wide with shock.
“Lady Light… so it was you, that night?”
What nonsense was this? Was he hallucinating?
The moment Whisler arrived, the nobles around us scattered. Perhaps to appease him, perhaps out of fear, they left us space for a private conversation.
This was the power of wealth, status, and reputation. I hadn’t asked for it, yet they cleared the way for me on their own.
One day, I’d seize all of it.
“Marquis Gass, I don’t know who this woman is you’re imagining, but I am Philena. I’m not her.”
Too blunt? Worried I’d made the same mistake as with Mille, I quickly added:
“But if you tell me who this woman is, perhaps I could help you find her.”
If it was a delusion, he needed a doctor. Either way, my behavior had been flawless—nothing like a so-called villainess. Even without Herace by my side, I’d kept my composure. I felt proud, lifting my shoulders slightly.
Besides, this exact situation had been discussed in the carriage beforehand.
If Whisler approaches, draw a clear line, but do it politely.
Plenty of noble ladies had done the same in breakup stories I’d read. I could act that much. After all, I had dated once before—and now I was in a contract relationship.
“Tell me—at the masquerade ball… were you there, Lady Light?”
Ah. That night. I had snuck in. But what use was secrecy now? My plan back then had failed, and I’d changed course anyway. Better not to lie—if caught, it would only cause problems later.
Feigning ignorance, I asked back:
“Which ball are you referring to?”
“The one two months ago. Were you there, Philena?”
Such a line—it sounded like something out of a male lead’s mouth. Surprising, coming from Whisler. I gave a small nod.
“Yes, I attended. I even tried to find you, Marquis, but it was difficult in masks. A shame, really.”
I pulled my lips into a regretful frown.
“Then… that means…”
He trailed off, his eyes blazing with a swirl of emotions.
“According to you, you were there. And that means you met my brother.”
“I never said I met Herace.”
Quickly, I glanced around. Thankfully, the other nobles still kept their distance. His line of questioning was dangerous, so I prepared my answer carefully—only for him to fire another barrage.
“Were you wearing a red dress that night too? With a mask of red and white?”
…How does he know that? Calm down. Stay calm.
“Yes. I did meet Herace. And yes, I wore that red dress with the red-and-white mask.”
Herace and I had agreed long ago to keep that night consistent in our stories. No point hiding it.
“So it was you. My brother knew too.”
Whisler dragged a hand down his face, twisting his lips. Then, to my shock, he closed the distance between us.
In full view of everyone. At such a public event. He invaded my space.
Before I could react, his furious whisper struck my ear:
“My Philena—don’t think you can run from me. Today, you’ll be mine again. And if not today… you’re destined to be mine eventually.”
Then, just as suddenly, he stepped back as though nothing had happened.
I remembered Herace’s advice: In awkward situations, just give a small nod.
So I nodded. Awkwardly.
Still, I couldn’t shake the thought—was Whisler hallucinating? He definitely wasn’t sane.
For the first time, he felt less like a flat “novel male lead” and more like a real, flawed human. Maybe it was the pressure of this cutthroat society. Mental health really did matter.
But just because I could rationalize it didn’t mean I was okay with his breath on my skin. Disgusted, I rubbed my neck and drew a conclusion:
So he really does feel inferior to Herace. That must be why he got so worked up when I admitted I’d met Herace at the masquerade.
I was just about to find Herace and report everything when a hand suddenly reached around my shoulder and pressed a wine glass into my palm.
Drinking was out of the question at this party. Even without looking, I knew who it was.
“The Duke of Gray has returned,” I muttered.
The moment I turned, a laugh slipped out. Herace had arranged a whole table nearby—snacks, chairs, everything neatly set.
“How did you manage all this?”
“Threats, oops—mistakes, and some negotiation.”
Herace nudged me gently toward it.
“Why don’t we sit? I gathered everything here to make you comfortable. Got permission too, so don’t worry.”
Normally, this would’ve ruined a party. But since it was Herace, somehow it worked. I knew this was his surprise for the night.
I flapped my hands, acting torn between “I want to refuse” and “I don’t want to be rude.”
“Well done, Philena. Now I’ll just have to drag you over there myself.”
“All right.”
“It’s your first party in a while. You must be tired. Rest. Just a little, then we’ll get up again.”
As he escorted me, I whispered to him about what had happened with Whisler. And, I had to admit—I was starting to enjoy his little surprises.
“Wait—he actually said you’d become his lover tonight?”
“Yes. But that’s impossible. He’s not the host of this party. He has no power here. Honestly, making a confession tonight would be practically impossible for him.”
