CHAPTER 71…………………………………………
We Don’t Offer Romance-Horror Consultations
Ortega took a long, steady breath.
He seemed to be trying hard to suppress his anger.
“Even if what you say is true, what kind of problem could possibly arise at this social gathering?”
The Count did not respond immediately.
‘Any problems that could have occurred were already taken care of.’
Any issues in terms of security were resolved by Laseil and Irenes’ presence.
Procedural problems had been handled by Ortega.
And to belittle the guests would have been sheer madness.
The Count’s silence was entirely predictable.
“So, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave now.”
Ortega spoke to the Count, his voice calm as he took a composed breath.
“I never invited you, Count.”
His words were somewhat harsh, but no one seemed to care.
The Count’s behavior just moments ago had been far ruder.
“Does he always act like that?”
“He seems more emotional than expected…”
“…Trying to use his younger sister, as usual…”
As soon as the Count intervened, questions were fired at Ortega.
It was exactly the atmosphere Ortega had wanted when he first opened the social gathering.
It was also exactly the flow Laseil had advised him to follow.
At this point, negative public opinion toward the Count seemed well established.
‘He probably won’t completely ignore it.’
Laseil looked toward the door, lost in thought.
The Gielea Count family had been interacting with foreign nobles long before.
Many of their territories bordered foreign lands, so influence from abroad was inevitable.
Even if the Count didn’t let public opinion sway him, he couldn’t help but pay attention.
‘This should resolve smoothly.’
Now only the final step remained.
Once Ortega’s conversation with the Count ended safely, Laseil’s task would be complete.
‘When I return… oh, that reminds me.’
He remembered that his birthday was coming up soon.
‘I wonder if there’ll be a gift waiting when I wake up this time, too.’
At the mansion, gifts were always placed by the bedside.
Gifts that everyone in the mansion insisted they never gave.
‘Or maybe the location has changed and it won’t come?’
Perhaps the head maid might prepare something.
“Is something the matter?”
“I just remembered that my birthday is coming up.”
“W-wasn’t it… like a week from now?”
Irenes asked, her voice strangled slightly.
“Yes, exactly that day.”
Come to think of it, Laseil had always received gifts from Irenes.
Even though he had often forgotten Irenes’ birthday himself.
At least in the past five years, he had consistently remembered.
“E-Ella?”
Irenes asked softly, as if lost in thought.
“Then, would you perhaps… make time for me the day after my birthday?”
“Of course.”
Yuire would take leave around Laseil’s birthday anyway.
With nothing else to do, Laseil was grateful for the invitation.
“Thank you so much!”
Irenes smiled brightly.
Seeing that face, Laseil’s heart skipped a beat…
Skipped?
‘What was that?’
In any case, it was clearly a very unfamiliar feeling.
Laseil looked away quickly, puzzled.
Finally, a proper social gathering was about to begin.
Ortega scanned the surroundings, then looked back at the person before him.
‘I don’t need to worry about the conversation leaking.’
Alisa and the Count were deep in conversation ahead.
To be precise, it was the Count’s one-sided scolding in full swing.
“What on earth are you thinking! What if something happens? A guest could harm you…”
“Brother…”
Just as the Count’s voice began to rise, Alisa interrupted.
It seemed the Count was genuinely shocked; perhaps it was his first time experiencing such a situation.
“It seems like you want something to happen to me.”
“What are you talking about?”
The Count looked more angry than surprised.
It was as if he still didn’t know how to process the situation.
“Am I wrong?”
“Who else cares about you as much as I do…!”
“Are you really worried about me?”
Alisa asked quietly.
“You told me not to go out for a walk in the cold. Even though the doctor said thirty minutes of walking would be better.”
“I know you far better than any doctor. I have my reasons…”
“Then why did you bring an expert? And why did you open my letters first?”
“In case they contained something harmful to you…”
“Now I understand.”
Alisa looked at the Count with sharp, clear eyes.
“You’re worried about yourself, not me.”
“What do you mean…”
“To be precise, you’re worried that my actions might end up causing you harm.”
Ortega quietly observed Alisa as the conversation continued.
She looked angry at times, disappointed at others.
But she did not appear sad.
She was unusually calm.
‘Did she already know it would come to this?’
She must have already prepared herself to part ways with the Count.
Their relationship had always been strained.
Today was simply when it reached its peak.
“You say you’re worried about me, but you don’t consider my opinion at all.”
“That’s because you’re…”
“And now, you focus on criticizing me rather than listening.”
“……”
The Count fell silent.
He seemed to have enough conscience to recognize his own behavior.
‘Interesting.’
Ortega evaluated him coldly.
He had assumed the Count had no conscience, given his shamelessness.
It seemed he had to revise that judgment slightly.
That said, it didn’t change the fact that the Count was not a good person.
“This isn’t protection; it’s control.”
“I respected your rights as much as possible, didn’t I?”
Alisa ignored the Count and continued.
“I am an adult, and I am responsible for my own actions.”
Alisa paused briefly, then finally got to the point.
“I will leave the mansion sometime next week.”
“Who gave you permission…!”
“Permission?”
The Count froze.
“You respect none of my rights. And I don’t need your permission.”
“You belong to my family!”
“No, I no longer belong to the family. I officially requested expulsion.”
“What…!”
“So we have nothing more to discuss. Goodbye, Count.”
Alisa finished her one-sided conversation and turned away.
The Count seemed too shocked to even stop her.
“Count.”
Now it was Ortega’s turn to speak.
The Count, still stunned, turned his gaze toward Ortega.
“What were you thinking letting Alisa…!”
The Count shouted again, then stopped abruptly.
He slowly examined Ortega’s face and hands.
“Your face… has lost a lot of weight.”
“……”
Ortega was familiar with this situation.
He had already read it in a novel.
The details were slightly different, but it was after Alisa’s independence.
[His eyes slowly scanned Ortega. Her wrists were far thinner than he remembered.
Her once lively face showed clear signs of illness. Memories of recent events flashed through his mind:
Frequently leaving the table early, falling asleep early, struggling even to walk…
‘What did I say back then?’
He had scolded her not to seek attention with such behavior.
Recalling that moment made his heart sink.
It felt like a chance that could never be taken back had been wasted…]
What followed was the Count’s endless regret.
Reading it, one might think, ‘Hurry up and regret it already.’
But experiencing it firsthand brought no such feeling.
‘What kind of nonsense is this?’
A harsher thought came instead.
He had many opportunities to notice Ortega’s condition:
Even during a minor cold, or when her left eye’s vision was deteriorating.
If he had paid just a little more attention at all those times, he would have noticed long ago.
