CHAPTER~24
I Want to Live as Myself
The quiet gaze of the man pressed down on her.
Her chest, swallowed by anxiety, began to pound unpleasantly.
Just how much did this man know?
‘Is there any room for me to deny it here?
Or….’
Her emotions and thoughts tangled, making her head dizzy.
But now she had to say something—anything.
Just as her trembling lips barely parted, it happened.
“I’ll help you.”
“…What?”
“Finding your mother.”
Had she heard that wrong?
It took several times of repeating the words in her head before she finally understood they were real.
After a brief hesitation, Yvonne asked carefully.
“Then… what should I do for you?”
What she had originally proposed to Cedric was simple—if he found her mother, she would leave, so until then, he should pretend not to know what she was doing.
But if he already knew about her mother’s existence, then the situation was different.
It meant he knew she wasn’t the Duke’s daughter, the ‘real’ Yvonne.
There was no need for him to pretend not to know and wait; if he exposed her identity immediately, Derrick’s marriage would collapse.
So what kind of price would he demand in exchange for covering her secret and waiting?
The question came from that calculation.
But the man’s answer was, once again, something she never could have predicted.
“I’m not asking for anything in return.”
So he wanted nothing?
Cedric stared at her—her brows slightly furrowed in confusion—and added with a leisurely smile.
“Well, for now… let’s just say it’s for justice.”
Yvonne blinked blankly.
For the first time in her life—one where she had endured fear alone—a hand had been extended toward her.
After parting with Yvonne, Cedric returned to the company.
He had to take care of the afternoon work that had been delayed.
“I moved the schedule for the Valentine to tomorrow, and these are the urgent documents you need to review today.”
Cedric calmly looked over the documents Blan handed him, sinking deep into thought.
About Yvonne LeRoa—no, the woman pretending to be Yvonne LeRoa.
“…Thank you.”
When he told her he would find her mother, the woman smiled as though she were about to cry.
It was the first smile she had shown—the woman who always trembled in fear and caution.
She was valuable in many ways.
Visually, and in usefulness.
Things were turning out easier than expected.
If Yvonne left on her own, there would be no need to take Derrick’s fiancée away.
In that case, there were two ways to use her.
He could simply find her mother and let her disappear quietly, just as she wished.
Or, he could let her marry Derrick first, then expose that she was a fake and help her escape afterward.
The latter wouldn’t just snatch away the card called marriage from Derrick.
It would give him the disgrace of being the victim of a fraudulent marriage.
Of course, if that happened, Yvonne might face public condemnation or be hunted for impersonating a noble.
But that was her burden to bear.
Exchanges were always cold by nature.
“One, two, three… five documents in total.
All reviews completed.
Good work today, sir.”
After confirming the last document handed to him, Blan formally announced the end of today’s tasks.
Cedric, who had already finished packing up for the day, gave his secretary one more task.
“Find out what happened to a woman named Milena Wood from the Tessell region.
She’s forty-three.
Lost her husband last year and has one daughter.
Last seen yesterday morning at the Royal Hospital.”
“And… who is this woman?”
“The family of the newsboy I met today… no, the news girl.”
“We… we have a news girl…?”
Blan, confused by the unfamiliar word, suddenly realized the truth and stiffened.
“Wait— that kid was a girl?!”
“She’s someone the Duke of LeRoa is hiding.
Investigate carefully so she isn’t exposed.”
“Wh-why are you suddenly looking for the newsboy’s— no, the news girl’s family?
And why is the Duke involved…?”
Sensing something ominous, Blan stared at Cedric with frightened eyes.
But Cedric merely smiled lightly and dodged the question.
As for how to use that pitiful and beautiful woman— that could wait until he found the person necessary for the deal.
Yvonne rode the Glaston family’s carriage back to the ducal estate.
It was a carriage Cedric lent her.
“Using this carriage will make it easier to avoid the Duke’s suspicions.”
Thanks to that, she could return home naturally, as though the Glaston family had sent her back.
The only thought filling Yvonne’s mind as she stepped down from the carriage and climbed the stairs to her room was one.
She did not run away.
She made the proposal first.
There were twists and turns, but she got the answer she wanted.
‘I… I did it.’
The result of her courage was sweeter than candy.
She had a good feeling.
At this rate, she felt she would be able to find her mother soon.
No—perhaps it wasn’t just a feeling.
If Cedric Glaston, that man, was helping… she truly might.
Her steps grew lighter as she climbed the stairs.
A faint smile even spread on her lips without her realizing it.
But not long after, that smile faded.
It happened when she saw a maid passing by with a dinner tray.
The maid was headed toward the inner hallway—the direction of the Duchess’s room.
Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen Isabella at all since the day she slapped her.
‘Is she shutting herself in her room again?’
Did I drive the Duchess back into seclusion?
How dare I.
Yvonne remembered the sound of Isabella crying as she slapped her own cheek.
At the same time, guilt squeezed her chest.
It was then she remembered her negotiation with Cedric.
“If that matter is resolved, I will leave Lucerne immediately.
Before the marriage is finalized.”
He accepted her condition.
And here—there was one more person who wanted her gone.
If so… perhaps.
Hope flickered in Yvonne’s eyes as she watched the door the maid had entered.
Yvonne quietly left her room and stopped in front of Isabella’s door.
It was close, yet she had always avoided coming here.
Was she doing something foolish?
Even though she stood before the door, she hesitated for a long time.
But finally, she made up her mind and knocked.
There was no response.
She knocked again, twice more.
Still nothing.
Her determined resolve felt empty.
Click.
The door cracked open slightly, and through the gap appeared Isabella’s green eyes—the same color as Yvonne’s.
But upon recognizing the identity of her late-night visitor, those eyes quickly filled with anger and contempt.
Yvonne worried Isabella might throw a fit, but she merely glared.
When Yvonne froze in surprise, Isabella tried to close the door.
Yvonne quickly grabbed it.
“I would like to speak with you, madam.”
“…”
“I won’t take much of your time.”
Isabella stared at her for a moment, then released the door she had been closing and turned away.
Taking it as permission, Yvonne stepped cautiously into the room.
The Duchess’s room was cluttered with belongings scattered everywhere.
The worn rabbit doll she always carried, small clothes, a flowerpot with a dead plant, portraits—
Everything was filled with traces of the ‘real’ Yvonne.
She realized she had come far too late.
And at the same time, she felt she had stepped somewhere she had no right to enter.
But even so—she had to speak to Isabella now, however late.
Isabella stopped walking and turned to her.
“What could you possibly have to say to me?”
Her green eyes were clear—unlike the rumors that her mind was unstable.
People said the Duchess was mad.
But Yvonne knew.
She wasn’t mad.
Logan had painted her as a madwoman, and by avoiding her, Yvonne had only helped him achieve that.
That falsehood became reality.
The weight of guilt she finally faced was heavy.
Yvonne bowed her head.
“…I’ve always wanted to say I’m sorry.
This should have been the first thing I said.
I’m truly sorr—”
“No.
No.”
Isabella cut her off sharply, as though she didn’t want to hear any more.
“There’s only one thing you need to say to me.
That you’ll leave this house.”
“I will.”
“…What?”
“After I find my mother.”
At her calm promise to leave, Isabella frowned.
She seemed unable to believe it.
“You really intend to leave?”
“Yes.”
“And how am I supposed to believe that?
Money, fame, power—everything a noblewoman could ever want is laid out before you.
And you expect me to believe you’ll throw all that away and obediently return to being a commoner?”
“It would be a lie to say I’ve never once desired that kind of life.”
She resented her life.
A father worse than most.
A sick mother she couldn’t afford to treat.
A life as a lower-class citizen where being ignored and mistreated was normal.
“But I want to live as myself.”
That did not mean she wanted to become someone else.
She was weak, made mistakes often, and was afraid of many things.
Yet despite all that—
“I want to live proudly as myself, not as someone else.”
Because even so—she still loved herself.
