~Chapter 160~
Harriet pulled her hand out of Cedric’s grasp and asked,
“Why… why would you say something like that?”
“You don’t smile at me,” he replied.
“I have no idea what you even mean. So why—!”
She didn’t know what words were supposed to follow that “why.”
What was she meant to say?
Why are you saying something that makes my heart flutter?
Do you… have feelings for me?
Or are you testing me?
Playing with me?
Cedric simply looked at her with an unreadable expression.
In the end, Harriet let out a faint laugh and tried to brush it off.
“It’s strange, you know. Saying something like that between two people who aren’t… anything.”
As soon as she finished speaking, she suddenly noticed how unbearably quiet the inside of the carriage felt.
Cedric neither smiled nor looked angry. His gaze lowered as he slowly opened and closed the hand that had just been holding hers.
“Is it strange? Then I must have been rude.”
“It’s not exactly rude… just surprising. Maybe it’s because I’m old-fashioned, but saying something like ‘I missed you’ feels like something only lovers would say.”
“But.”
Cedric dropped another emotional bomb on her, just as she was desperately trying to act calm.
“If you greeted me by saying you missed me, I would be genuinely happy. No matter what you meant by it.”
Silence fell in the carriage again.
Harriet bit her lips hard and rolled her eyes around, desperately trying to think of something to say. If she didn’t fill the quiet with words, she was sure he would hear her heart pounding.
When she hesitated for too long, Cedric, perhaps sensing her discomfort, naturally shifted the topic back to “work.”
“Anyway, a major incident will be reported in the newspapers soon. Once you see it, prepare yourself to testify.”
“Ah, I understand. I’m sure I’m not the only witness. The trial will probably take a long time.”
“Not necessarily. Considering the severity of the case, the conclusion may come much faster than expected.”
Harriet nodded firmly, as if trying to shake off the previous awkwardness.
While they talked, the carriage finished circling the quiet streets of Genoa and headed back toward the Pellon estate. Realizing their time together was ending as they approached the front gate, Harriet opened her bag.
“This may not be very useful to you, but…”
She took something out of her bag and handed it to Cedric.
“It’s a bath additive made with hot-spring minerals. It’s a specialty from Einsfora. It wasn’t expensive or anything, so I bought a few as gifts while I was there. I tried it myself, and it made my skin so soft.”
She rambled on, pretending to be nonchalant, because she felt oddly embarrassed.
She had debated for a long time whether to give it to him.
Wouldn’t it look ridiculous to offer a 50-diram bath pack to a duke—an extremely wealthy one at that?
But she couldn’t not give it.
Even if he never realized it, Harriet wanted to leave behind the truth that she’d thought of him while she was there.
Cedric turned the wrapped box slowly in his hands and asked,
“You used it too?”
“Yes! The exact same one. It’s a shame I can’t show you the testing process in person.”
For some reason, that amused him. Cedric let out a soft laugh—puh-hu—a small, slightly embarrassed smile that looked both awkward and endearing.
“Thank you. I keep receiving gifts from you… I feel bad.”
“You always give me far greater gifts. So please don’t worry about it. Besides, it’s nothing expensive.”
“The price doesn’t determine a gift’s worth. I will repay you properly someday.”
“You— you really don’t have to feel obligated…!”
Just then, the carriage came to a complete stop.
Without even looking at her flustered gestures, Cedric opened the door.
“Forgive me for not escorting you to the entrance. There might be people watching.”
“As I’ve said before, it’s fine. Please don’t worry about that. Well then… I’ll see you next time.”
“Yes. Until next time.”
Harriet met his eyes one last time before stepping out of the carriage.
Soon the carriage rolled away, and the meeting that had kept her awake for days with excitement ended quietly, just like that.
***
While someone was drowning in the confusing ache and longing of a first love, someone else was sinking into pitch-black despair, resenting everyone except herself.
“This is impossible. If there’s a god, he wouldn’t allow this!”
Sitting in her cold stone cell, Lauren shouted over and over again. When her throat hurt, she muttered instead; when her mouth went dry, she called for a guard, demanded water, drank it, and then screamed again.
She couldn’t give up—someone had to listen to her eventually.
She even ate all her meals without skipping any, determined to conserve her strength.
But a week passed, and not a single good piece of news reached her.
“The lawyers you requested have declined the case. All applications were rejected. They say they refuse to defend you.”
The guard told her this with undisguised irritation.
“You! You’ve been bribed by Trisha Pellon, haven’t you? You’re lying to me! Call my husband or my son! I won’t believe anyone else!”
“Sigh… I already told you last time. No one from the Marshall barony has applied for visitation. If they don’t want to come, how am I supposed to drag them here?”
“Lies! I’m the victim! I’m innocent!”
“Yes, yes. Save that for the second trial.”
The guard walked away, ignoring Lauren as she reached for him through the bars.
She collapsed back onto the floor, sobbing loudly.
The dignity and pride of a noblewoman had long since disappeared. From the moment she sensed everything was over, only stubbornness and malice remained inside her.
“Just wait! You think I’m going to go down quietly? I’ll get out of here somehow!”
Wiping her tear-streaked face roughly with the back of her hand, Lauren gritted her teeth.
There was at least one option left.
A deal, perhaps.
She could point out an accomplice in exchange for a lighter sentence—or threaten an accomplice who was terrified of being exposed.
If I’m punished, then Bella Listerwell should be punished too! If it weren’t for that woman, none of this would’ve gotten so big. This is all her fault!
She regretted trying to kill Trisha under Bella’s encouragement.
She should have moved after Trisha died, striking at Roxana while she was alone.
That would have been simple. No risk of being caught.
But now she was stuck in a cell, unable to reach Bella at all.
Let me try sending a letter home one more time. I don’t know if the guards bribed by that old hag will actually deliver it…
She couldn’t send a letter directly to Bella.
If she did, investigators would go to Bella first, interrogate her, and Lauren would lose her leverage.
So she had to send a letter home—to her husband or to Jayden—and force them to come see her.
And if they still didn’t come…
Then during the second trial, she would tell the investigators Bella’s name and aim for a reduced sentence.
Gripping the prison bars tightly, Lauren screamed outside,
“Guard! I want to send a letter to my family! Bring me paper!”
The guard far down the hall sighed loudly, making sure she heard it.
“You’re writing another one? I delivered all your letters! They’re just not coming!”
“Shut up and bring me paper and a pen!”
The guard clicked his tongue in annoyance.
But he couldn’t refuse—this was a noble-only prison, and the prisoner outranked him socially.
Feeling bad for his colleague, another guard gently patted his shoulder.
“Stay here. I’ll go.”
“But… she’s not assigned to you…”
“My assigned inmates don’t scream for me constantly. Take a break.”
He kindly went instead and handed Lauren paper and an envelope.
To the casual eye, it might have looked normal—but the fact that he brought an envelope made Lauren suspicious.
Usually, prison letters were inspected first and then sealed.
Sensing her understanding, the guard whispered:
“I’ll smuggle the letter out for you just this once. Write it freely.”
“How do I know you’re not lying?”
His voice dropped even lower.
“Yesterday, Sir Jayden Marshall asked me to help you. He already paid me handsomely. If I deceive you, I won’t live long.”
At those words, Lauren’s face lit up with pure joy.
“J-Jayden…!”
“Shh! Quiet. Write one letter that’s harmless even if it gets inspected, and another with what you really want to say. Put the real one in the envelope and seal it tight.”
“Thank you, thank you!”
Lauren felt relief flood her chest—her son hadn’t betrayed her.
She had so much she wanted to say, but holding back tears, she wrote two letters:
one ordinary letter asking about the family, and one that actually needed to escape the prison.
The real letter said:
[“Jayden.
Bella Listerwell is an accomplice.
Tell her to find a way to save me.
If she refuses, threaten her—tell her I’ll confess her name during the second trial.
I love you.
— Mother.”]
She placed the letter inside the envelope and licked the flap, sealing it firmly.
The glue tasted bitter on her tongue, but she ignored it easily.
She was too busy imagining her son coming to visit her soon.
