CHAPTER 34……………………………………………
From the look in his eyes, I could tell exactly what kind of answer he was hoping for. Something along the lines of, “Because we’re precious friends.”
He clearly looked like he wanted to hear that.
“Because…”
“Because…?”
I drew it out, deliberately teasing him, watching how every ounce of his attention focused on my next words—like someone holding their breath for the last kick in a penalty shootout.
“Because it’s something I’ve already said a lot in interviews. You didn’t know? I was famous in Bria as the talented actress from an orphanage.”
His face fell in visible disappointment.
Somehow, that made me feel oddly satisfied—like I’d just gotten revenge.
Hmph. I’m not playing your little ‘friendship’ game.
“Thanks for bringing me back. Enjoy the rest of your holiday, and see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”
He dropped me off right in front of the Woodville estate, which made things easier.
As I walked toward the mansion, worries about tomorrow began to flood in.
The holiday was already over before I could even plan my next move.
Tomorrow, I’d have to resume lessons with Peredil.
Honestly, what was I thinking when I said I’d visit him every day?
Why do I, a noble lady, feel the despair of a working office employee?
But what terrified me more than going back to work after a holiday… was facing my parents after spending a night out.
They’d definitely scold me the moment I stepped inside.
Already bracing myself for an imaginary beating, I crept cautiously into the mansion.
“My dear daughter~! You’re back!”
The Count came running toward me with open arms the moment he saw me.
“Y-yes, I’m back.”
Even as he embraced me, I couldn’t shake my suspicion.
He was usually so sensitive about me staying out without notice—why was he so cheerful?
Was this… some kind of prank?
“Father, aren’t you mad? I thought you’d be furious that I stayed out without saying anything.”
Unable to bear my anxiety, I asked him directly, like confessing in church.
“Well, the Duke of Seymour sent a letter.”
“What? The Duke?”
The letter bore the seal of the Matthias Orphanage.
“He wrote that you came to Matthias because of him, but his schedule got unexpectedly extended, and he’s sorry. He also said he was worried I’d be upset and asked me not to blame you, but to blame him entirely.”
What the—so he is a tsundere.
He scolded me for running around like a wild horse, and yet he secretly sent a letter to Woodville?
Because he didn’t make a show of it, the gesture felt twice as touching.
“But Joyce, you look cheerful today.”
“Huh? No, I don’t.”
“Oh, come on. Your smile’s practically reaching your ears.”
I touched my face and realized—my mouth really was stretched to my ears.
I couldn’t believe I’d been grinning just from thinking about him.
“No! I just have a naturally smiley face!”
I quickly forced my lips back down and bolted away.
After what had been a rare and pleasant outing, Peredil’s mood soured the instant he stepped into his mansion.
Someone uninvited was sitting comfortably on his sofa again.
“Isn’t that a bit rude—to make a face like that the moment you see me? You know, I do have feelings.”
“You really treat a house without its master as if it’s your own.”
“Oh? And who said I’m not the mistress? I am the mistress.”
Peredil felt his earlier good mood evaporate.
He’d wanted to savor the rare joy of a carefree weekend, but this woman made that impossible.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d stop dropping by without a reason. We’re not exactly on friendly terms.”
“Then tell me—Joyce Woodville visiting your study, is that a visit with a reason? You spent an entire night drinking with her, didn’t you? Even went all the way to Matthias and stayed overnight together. I suppose all that was for a reason too?”
He suddenly felt as if he’d been bound in heavy chains.
The realization that someone knew his every move, even those he hadn’t shared, made it hard to breathe.
“It’s none of your concern—”
“Isn’t it? I’m your fiancée, after all.”
He had no comeback—he never did when faced with blunt truth.
“What’s the matter? Are you thinking of breaking off the engagement? You don’t care if Luna Woodville gets taken away now, since you’ve got another Woodville in her place?”
He snapped.
In a flash, he slammed her against the wall, his hand hovering just short of her slender throat.
“I swear, I’d rather strangle you right now and rot in prison for the rest of my life.”
She knew he wouldn’t actually do it.
Still, even knowing that, she couldn’t stop the faint tremor that ran through her body.
“Go ahead, then. If you think you can live the rest of your life without ever seeing another Woodville woman again.”
Just as she expected, he stepped back.
“Since we’re getting married anyway, stop spying on me. Whatever’s between them isn’t about romance.”
“It makes me look like a fool! How do you think people see me, when my fiancé’s running around with another woman?”
“Oh? And being the noble faction’s son-in-law who they themselves tried to assassinate—doesn’t that look ridiculous too?”
This time, she was the one left speechless.
“If I find out who tried to poison me, I could hold the noble faction responsible and demand our engagement be annulled. Isn’t that what your father’s political enemies wanted all along?”
She’d thought he was too busy with some secret affair to care about politics, but clearly he’d been paying close attention to the internal strife among the nobles.
“The only reason I haven’t done that is simple. I have no intention of digging deeper, fixing things, or changing anything. So don’t provoke me into using the last bit of strength I have.”
To her, it sounded like a warning.
To him, it was a plea.
He was begging her not to destroy the only sliver of peace he had left—those quiet, fragile moments with Woodville.
He was like a toothless hunting dog, refusing to break the leash that bound him.
“If you have time to dig into my background, you’d better spend it fixing the mess inside your noble faction.”
Leaving her behind, he shouted as he headed for his room:
“When I’m not home, don’t let that woman in again! No matter what nonsense she spouts about being my fiancée or mistress!”
His voice rang through the mansion, loud enough that everyone heard—ensuring that from now on, the servants wouldn’t have to suffer her presence when he was away.
“It’s been a while, Theo.”
“Yeah. Come in.”
I decided to spend the last precious moments of my holiday meeting Theo—to debrief him about what had happened in Matthias with Peredil, and to discuss our next strategy.
I was also curious to hear how Peredil’s attitude looked from an outsider’s perspective.
After I finished my animated, full-body reenactment of the whole affair, Theo spoke in a serious tone.
“So it’s over now, isn’t it?”
“Over? What do you mean?”
“The Duke confessed his feelings.”
“You heard what he said. He thinks it’s friendship.”
“Sure. But you’re not as naïve as he is—you know it’s love, don’t you?”
“So?”
Sensing he had more to say, I prodded him—and he gave me a new suggestion.
“Push him. Force the realization. End it quickly.”
“Push him? That’s not the right way.”
“Why not? He may not realize it yet, but it’s not Luna Woodville he’s drawn to—it’s you. If you make him face that truth, he’ll admit his feelings.”
We’d disagreed about creative direction back in Bria, but today Theo was unusually insistent.
His voice was sharper than usual, and mine rose to match.
“But it’s not ready yet! With someone like the Duke, forcing emotion isn’t right. He has to come to it on his own!”
“So you’d rather take the long road when there’s a shortcut? The Woodvilles never required love in the deal, remember?”
“This isn’t just about the Woodville family. You know that. You know I see this as my art.”
“Well, it sure doesn’t look like art to me anymore!”
Theo—who almost never raised his voice—shouted with an expression full of frustration.
I couldn’t understand why he was angry, or what he meant.
“What are you talking about? You think I’m not treating this like a performance?”
“Exactly! Listening to how you talk about him… I can feel your emotions getting mixed in. It’s like you’re actually sharing feelings with him!”
There were moments, when I was with Peredil, when I’d wonder if what I was feeling was truly my own.
So his words did sting a little.
But I was certain that wasn’t the case.
It was just emotional immersion—me channeling Joyce, the character I’d created.
“I’m an actress. I know perfectly well which emotions are mine and which aren’t.”
“You might think that—but from where I stand, it’s obvious.”
“No, it’s not! Are you saying you know my heart better than I do?”
Theo shouted louder than ever before:
“Of course I do! I’ve watched you for so long!”
