CHAPTER 91………………………………..
The Villainess (3)
“‘It has nothing to do with Anje?’ Oh, how unfortunate. You must not know, but that’s all part of her scheme. The more innocent a young lady appears, the more likely she is to manipulate others under that guise.”
Countess Belkin, finding that the matriarch did not agree with her, now began to paint Anje as a fraud outright.
‘Tsk, there’s nothing she won’t say in front of someone.’
Anje furrowed her brow, unable to hold back, but the Countess ignored her and turned to the man sitting across the table, seeking his agreement this time.
“Isn’t that right?”
The man, who had been preoccupied trying to read between his wife and Countess Belkin’s words, looked dumbfounded at the sudden question. But quickly picking up on the atmosphere, he nodded hastily.
“Y-Yes, that’s right?”
He outwardly agreed with Countess Belkin, but in truth, he had no idea what was going on.
Anje tilted her head toward Count Dottrich, who was dabbing the cold sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief.
“Are you two married?”
At Anje’s question, Count Dottrich, already restless, jumped up from his seat as if doused with boiling water.
His wife frowned in irritation at her husband’s reckless behavior. Normally, she would intervene at such a display of dissatisfaction, but Count Dottrich had no time for that now.
“What on earth are you talking about!”
“Oh, aren’t you? But you’re both wearing matching designs in your accessories.”
Even those with lovers or mistresses usually know their limits. In front of one’s spouse, denial of such affairs persists, if only out of the tiniest shred of conscience.
Yet some daringly enjoy the thrill, flaunting matching couple rings, as if daring fate.
Just like Countess Belkin and Count Dottrich.
“Ma-Matching designs?”
Tsk, the key to a lie is confidence. Why provoke someone just minding their own business…
Anje clicked her tongue inwardly but smiled lightly.
“It seems to me that the emerald in the gentleman’s cravat pin and the lady’s hair ornament are of the same design. Or perhaps I’m mistaken?”
As soon as Anje spoke, Count Dottrich plucked the pin off his cravat as if tearing it off, and of course, Countess Belkin removed her hair ornament.
But their instinctive actions only fueled suspicion.
“Honey?”
Until now, Count Dottrich’s wife had been silently observing the situation, but now she quietly called her husband.
She alternated her gaze between her friend, Countess Belkin, and her husband.
Widowed early and living a somewhat lonely life, the Countess Dottrich often invited her friend over. Occasionally, her husband had complained that Countess Belkin was excessively luxurious and talkative compared to her, but was it all just an act?
The Countess Dottrich had even, at one point, doubted briefly the similarity between her husband’s cravat pin and her friend’s hair ornament. But the emerald teardrop-shaped cravat pin was a very common design.
Even couples who appear normal outwardly often indulge in secret distractions, she knew that. But she couldn’t imagine that her kind, innocent husband and her lifelong friend would do such a thing right before her eyes.
That was her mistake.
Now one of them clutched the cravat pin helplessly, the other held the hair ornament, both trying to gauge each other’s reactions.
But the one who felt the most shame in that moment was herself. Well, at least it was better than nothing—she had managed to endure these fools up to now…
The Count, seeing his wife’s rising anger, pleaded.
“Honey, I can guess what you’re thinking, but it’s all a misunderstanding.”
“I haven’t said a word yet.”
Countess Dottrich rose calmly and looked at Anje.
“Apologies, miss. I’ve caused you trouble.”
Being unintentionally apologized to by a supposed victim did not make Anje feel any easier.
“No, it was I who was rude to you. I regret it, madam.”
The Countess exhaled lightly, her cold gaze fixed on her husband.
“I’m not feeling well; I don’t think I’ll be able to attend the performance today.”
Along with that, the Countess had no intention of leaving her husband and friend alone any longer.
“Oh, what’s wrong? Shall I call the physician?”
The Count followed desperately as his wife turned away coldly.
Countess Belkin, observing the scene with a predatory gaze, turned her eyes to Anje.
“Why, do you still have advice for the matriarch regarding His Excellency’s broken engagement?”
At Anje’s icy question, Countess Belkin trembled with anger. At that moment, the sound of a chair scraping caught Anje’s attention; the matriarch was rising from her seat.
“Let’s go now. This place isn’t like it used to be; its class has fallen.”
As she moved, the matriarch suddenly glared at Countess Belkin, as if remembering something.
“Who do you think you are, giving advice? Tsk! You should be ashamed! Truly ashamed!”
Her stern voice then swept over the other nobles present, a subtle warning: they were just as meddlesome and gossipy as Countess Belkin, yet dared to offer advice. She hoped they would remember how Countess Belkin had been humiliated and think twice before intervening next time.
“Let’s go home. Next time, I’ll take you somewhere better. Or perhaps I should tell Joseph to build an entirely new theater? That way, we won’t have to face such insolent people.”
“Eh? Build a new theater? But even as a joke, wouldn’t picking and choosing guests like that hurt business?”
The matriarch laughed at Anje’s serious tone. It wasn’t entirely a joke; she had meant it to soothe Anje, who had been looking forward to the play. Yet, upon reflection, it seemed reasonable.
“Do you think I’m joking? No, I’m serious. If we have a theater, we can occasionally host musical performances, invite troupes for banquets, and entertain our guests. Above all, I thought you might enjoy it. Once Mariana marries, it’ll be lonely, and I want a new way to spend my leisure time.”
Anje shook her head in disbelief. Building a theater just for that reason? Even with endless money, that’s an incredibly inefficient hobby.
“No, it’s perfectly fine if it’s for your sake.”
The matriarch laughed heartily at Anje’s vigorous shaking of her head.
Outside, the sun was already setting.
As they boarded the carriage, the matriarch glanced back. A playful smile crossed her face upon noticing how many eyes were still following them.
From now on, it was time to show everyone what Anje truly meant to her and the Duke’s household.
The Duke woke to the piercing sunlight, frowning at the strange sense of dissonance.
The room was dark as usual, but a strong beam of light seeped through the closed curtains. It had struck his eyes directly, waking him.
Yet something was very different today.
For one, he hadn’t felt so refreshed upon waking in a long time. The dull headache that had throbbed near his temples was gone, and his body felt light as if it could float.
Previously lazy in bed, he rose cautiously at the sounds of servants moving in the corridor. His rest had been short, it seemed.
‘So, I must have dozed off leaning on Anje’s visit… until nearly dawn… huh?’
Come to think of it, he had only meant to rest briefly leaning against her. When had he returned to bed? And the room looked different.
His body sprang up like a spring as he realized he wasn’t in his familiar surroundings.
The furniture, bookshelves, chairs, even the carpet were all exactly as he remembered—but it wasn’t his room. What in the world was going on?
He reached out absentmindedly to call a servant, but only emptiness met his hand.
“Max!”
No response came.
Frustrated, he approached the window and pulled back the curtain, only to find the entire sky painted red by the sunset. He was speechless.
