CHAPTER~18
“An Impossible Hypothesis”
“…Mother?”
For a while, Duchess Isabella, who had not left her room, was approaching the stairs.
Her expression was as vacant as when they first arrived in Lucerne.
However, the old rabbit doll in her arms silently demanded attention on her behalf.
The strange and alien sight made Yvonne hesitate.
But she could not treat her as a ghost forever. After all, on the surface, she was still her ‘mother.’
As Yvonne hesitated for a moment and stepped closer, Isabella’s hollow eyes focused sharply on her.
“Why am I your mother!”
The next moment, her hand struck Yvonne’s cheek. With a sharp friction, her cheek was hit.
“Why do you call me your mother! Why!”
Isabella grabbed Yvonne’s shoulders roughly and struck her while crying out in despair.
The frozen servants finally rushed to pull Isabella away from Yvonne.
But Isabella, with superhuman strength, broke free from the servants restraining her and shoved Yvonne several more times, all while clutching the rabbit doll.
Yvonne, staring blankly, was brought back to her senses by Cindy’s voice.
“Miss, are you alright?”
Although Cindy continued speaking, her words were drowned out by Isabella’s cries.
The cries were eerily similar to the sobs of a mother who had once stood in front of her, grieving.
Only then did her cheek start to throb.
“Let’s go to the Leroy residence.”
By noon, Nadia headed toward the Leroy residence. It was earlier than usual.
An overly early visit was somewhat improper, but today she could not afford to wait.
Cedric Glaston had invited her to the opera, a proposal she had obtained entirely through her own effort, without Yvonne’s help.
The fact gave Nadia hope and a slight sense of superiority, so she wanted to tell Yvonne first.
Always to the one who possessed what she did not.
The carriage took longer than usual to reach the Leroy residence, perhaps just a matter of perception.
Nadia responded with a light smile to the butler welcoming her, and followed the maid into the mansion.
“Why am I your mother!”
Immediately, a tearing sound struck Nadia’s ears.
“Why do you call me your mother! Why!”
The Duchess was hitting Yvonne, venting a roar almost like a beast.
The rabbit doll in her arms wobbled strangely.
“M-Miss…”
It seemed Nadia was not the only one startled, as the frozen maid cautiously called out to her.
Understanding the maid’s meaning, Nadia stepped back before the maid could continue.
“Something urgent came to mind, so I must return. Yvonne will likely be very troubled; please keep a close eye on her. I trust you.”
Smiling with concern for her friend, Nadia then returned to her waiting carriage, erasing the smile directed at the butler and maid.
She gazed back at the mansion, replaying the scene she had just witnessed.
“Why do you call me your mother! Why!”
She had heard that the Duchess was mentally unwell due to a fever.
But Nadia could not dismiss the earlier incident as merely the actions of an unstable mind. Other concerns lingered.
‘Come to think of it, she was strange even at the hunting grounds.’
Yvonne’s lifelong health issues, her vanished scar, knowledge of wild poisonous herbs.
Pieces that were once meaningless were now fitting together, forming a clear suspicion.
Could it be…
With all the pieces assembled, one impossible hypothesis crossed Nadia’s mind.
That evening, Logan returned from the palace and heard of the afternoon’s events.
“Isabella caused a disturbance?”
He furrowed his brows, putting down his cigar.
The unexpected incident was not entirely surprising. From the beginning, Isabella had resented that commoner pretending to be Yvonne.
So far, she had kept Yvonne confined to her room to avoid encounters.
Logan had considered letting her stay at the estate’s property, but feared Isabella might act to prove Yvonne’s death, so he chose to keep her nearby and under observation.
He believed time would resolve Isabella’s problems.
The inability to send her daughter away and her resentment at being misunderstood.
Fortunately, Isabella seemed unwilling to leave her room, and peaceful days passed.
Logan assumed she had now coldly accepted reality and gave her slightly more freedom than before.
Not long after, this incident occurred.
‘How long does she intend to cling to the past?’
Yvonne was dead.
The beloved child had been left in the past, but she and Isabella had to live in the coming era.
An era where social rank was crumbling and new power came from wealth.
In such a world, Isabella, raised as a noble princess’s only daughter, would have to give up much.
And the man who married her to seize power would face the same.
Thus, Logan resolved to go against the era.
If he could return to a time of absolute royal authority, Isabella, the princess’s daughter, could have a safe life.
Many nobles shared the same desire, but desire alone could change nothing.
Logan needed funds to support this desire, and to legally obtain them, he needed his daughter.
Isabella still seemed unable to understand.
“Shall we summon Mr. Vincent to re-examine her and prescribe a new medicine?”
The butler, gauging Logan’s mood, asked cautiously.
Logan, holding his cigar and lost in thought, exhaled a sigh-like smoke.
“Do that, and make sure she cannot leave her room for a while.”
“It’s a relief it’s only this serious.”
Cindy, having finished Yvonne’s makeup, let out a sigh.
The bruise from Isabella’s slap was purple on the first day, but had faded enough to cover with makeup over the past few days.
Yvonne had hoped the bruise would last longer so she could cancel her appointment with Derrick, but fate was not on her side.
“Mistress, you should heal your emotional wounds as well…”
Cindy spoke with concern, but Yvonne understood the meaning behind her words: she must think the Duchess was too harsh.
Yvonne remained silent.
To defend the Duchess would be self-deception, but there was no resentment either.
She considered Isabella’s reactions natural.
Every time she saw portraits of Yvonne and Isabella in the gallery or heard childhood anecdotes from older servants, she could feel how much Isabella had loved her daughter.
Because of Yvonne’s pretense, Isabella could not properly mourn or hold a funeral for her child.
Left this way, Isabella would live with the grief buried in her heart forever.
For her, Yvonne could do only one thing: find her mother and disappear as quickly as possible.
Thus, she had another reason to hurry.
“Miss, the Glaston carriage has arrived.”
First, she needed to solve the immediate problem.
Following the butler’s guidance, Yvonne left her room. Derrick was waiting on the first floor.
“You look especially beautiful today, Miss. Had I known, I would have arranged more meetings.”
“You flatter me.”
Yvonne smiled faintly. Acting had become much easier now.
Escorted by him, she entered the carriage. Derrick naturally started conversation about the opera they were going to see.
Though outwardly gentlemanly, Yvonne noticed his gaze changing subtly at moments, a dangerous instinct alerting her.
Had she not noticed, she might have relaxed, but now she had no time to enjoy the opera house for the first time.
Her nerves only eased when she recognized a familiar face at the box seats.
“…Nadia?”
“Yvonne?”
Nadia stood at the doorway, blinking in surprise, accompanied by…
“I hear it’s the most popular opera lately, but I never expected to meet like this.”
Cedric Glaston. The man himself.
