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Chapter 10
“That’s a fresh way to say happy birthday.”
Vivian’s voice, retaliating as if she wouldn’t back down, trembled slightly.
Her hand, pretending to rummage through the jewelry box while deliberately lowering her head, was also shaking. As soon as Betty noticed, she quickly stepped in.
“Milady, are you looking for something?”
“…That sapphire earring from last time. I can’t find it anywhere.”
The sapphire earrings she mentioned weren’t even supposed to be in this jewelry box.
Both Vivian and Betty knew that.
“They must be here somewhere. I’ll help you look.”
Her hand gripping the jewelry box lid had turned ghostly white from how hard she was holding on.
“Alright. Thanks.”
Vivian wasn’t the type to say thank you over something so trivial.
Which is why it felt more sincere—an unspoken thanks for helping her regain her composure in a moment of panic.
Realizing that, Betty blinked in surprise and stood frozen for a moment.
But Vivian, indifferent to Betty’s reaction, let the faint smile on her face fade away.
Soon she wore her usual mask of cold detachment and threw a frosty question at Felix.
“…You’re always so busy, but today you made time to visit me. What’s going on, Brother?”
“I didn’t come to waste time either. I’m here to inform you of something important. I don’t want you to mess it up.”
Still, wasn’t she his biological sister?
How could he say such cutting things so casually?
Vivian’s hand, hidden on her lap, was trembling again—whether out of rage or humiliation was unclear.
“The Archduke is coming. He’ll visit here right after his audience with His Majesty the Emperor. Make sure you dress extravagantly to greet him.”
“The Archduke? What… which Archduke…”
“Vivian Sharte. I don’t like repeating myself. As if there are two Archdukes in the Empire. You should be able to figure it out yourself.”
Even a small comment was laced with biting sarcasm.
Betty flinched, feeling like she was the one being scolded, and when she fully processed what Felix had said, her eyes widened in shock.
Archduke Ian Dayban had arrived in the capital.
After tossing out that bombshell, Felix turned on his heel and left without another word. Silence lingered in his wake.
Then, Vivian suddenly raised her voice.
“Rodrik. You can stop hiding and come out. Are you planning to stick around until the Archduke gets here?”
Amidst the shock, they had half-forgotten the knight’s presence.
The knight emerged from the dressing room and placed his hands gently on Vivian’s shoulders, bowing his head and whispering.
“Are you truly marrying His Grace the Archduke?”
“It was always a known future. Don’t get clingy now. Want to get kicked out of the duchy?”
“I just thought… we’d have more time.”
It seemed their relationship had always been silently destined to end the moment the Archduke returned to the capital.
“I told you—if you’re going to cling like a fool, don’t take my hand in the first place.”
Betty had assumed they were a tender pair of lovers, but it appeared she was wrong.
“…I’ll take my leave.”
Though Vivian’s words had been cold, warning him not to linger, the knight left with eyes full of longing, like he was the most heartbroken man in the world.
Even then, the young lady didn’t look back. Instead, she turned to Betty, who was standing awkwardly pretending not to have noticed anything.
“Thanks for earlier. Looks like you figured things out with Rodrik but didn’t say anything.”
Vivian’s voice dipped lower.
“Honestly, I was touched. No one’s ever cared that much about my well-being.”
“The Duke and the Young Master surely do…”
“You think they care deep down? Don’t be silly. I know. Whether it’s genuine or not. Felix Sharte has always, always hated me from the bottom of his heart.”
She had paused in picking out earrings and now stared hard at her reflection in the mirror, muttering bitterly.
“No matter what I do, I think he just hates me. If only he’d get angry to my face. But he never does.”
Sitting alone at the dressing table, she looked proud—but also terribly lonely.
All her rebelliousness, the noise, the scandals—they now seemed like nothing more than desperate cries for attention.
“I suppose I should at least wear the earrings he gifted me. Don’t want to embarrass the great House of Sharte.”
Her obsession with status—perhaps it was because that was the only part of her that her family paid attention to.
“That ring I gave you last time… do you still have it? It stands out more than any of these.”
She picked out a small earring with a careless hand. Then her blue eyes in the mirror met Betty’s. Betty flinched.
“The ruby ring… it…”
“You already sold it?”
There wasn’t any accusation in her raised eyebrows. Just honest curiosity.
“You don’t seem the type to run to a jeweler the moment you get something, but maybe I was wrong?”
“No, it’s not that…”
“Don’t mumble. I’m not going to eat you.”
Vivian sighed, lifting and dropping her hair repeatedly in frustration.
She turned fully to face Betty, her voice suddenly softened, perhaps out of guilt.
“I meant it when I said thank you earlier. I won’t ask you to get the ring back. I don’t know why you helped me, but I’m not that unreasonable.”
“I was just doing what I’m supposed to. It’s only right—I serve you, Milady.”
“…You’re too kind to be working in a place like this.”
It was praise that sounded like scolding. Betty hung her head, speechless.
“So what happened to the ring? Did you have to sell it?”
“My aunt is very ill. I couldn’t afford a doctor or medicine. I gave it to the healer as payment.”
“How much?”
Vivian suddenly opened a drawer and dropped a heavy pouch of coins onto the table with a clatter.
Only when she pushed it toward her did Betty realize the question had meant, “How much do you need?”
“This is money I receive separately. Even the butler doesn’t ask how I spend it.”
“I can’t accept this…”
“If it’s not enough, just say so. If it’s extra, keep it. I don’t even go out much, so I don’t have many chances to use it. The shops just bill House Sharte directly anyway.”
Vivian lived a life anyone would envy.
But who would’ve thought she couldn’t even leave the house freely, always watching her father’s and brother’s moods?
“Just take it. Think of it as payment for keeping my secret.”
“Why are you giving this to me?”
“Because you kept my secret. Like I said.”
Her flat tone made it hard to believe she’d just handed over a fortune.
“What if I take this and tell the Young Master anyway?”
“Then I’ll assume you were just another ungrateful maid trying to use your position to crawl into Felix’s bed.”
She said it like it was something that happened all the time.
“He actually did ask me,” Betty admitted. “About whether you’d been acting strange lately.”
Vivian scoffed.
“He always does. Tries to bribe my maids to spy on me. I gave up trying to behave. What’s the point when he already doesn’t trust me?”
“Then… should I try to find out more?”
The thought that Felix might’ve had some special reason for his suspicion had been worrying. But if it was just his usual routine, Betty felt relieved—and confident enough to offer.
“About what?”
“Why the Young Master… treats you the way he does.”
“Maybe there’s no reason. Maybe he just hates me.”
“No. There has to be a reason.”
Betty shook her head. People didn’t act that way without a reason. If they claimed to, it usually meant they just didn’t want to admit the reason to themselves.
“I think I can find out.”
She wasn’t thrilled about dealing with Felix Sharte again.
But if she could feed him just enough believable lies about Vivian’s behavior… maybe she could uncover something in return.
“You really are too kind.”
Vivian looked at her for a long moment, then waved a hand dismissively.
“Forget it. I already make you write my letters—can’t ask for more. Like I said, I’m not completely heartless.”
That was when the thought struck Betty like a splash of cold water. The Archduke. The letters.
“What if the fact that I wrote the letters causes a problem?”
Vivian, misreading her stiff expression as fear of punishment, soothed her.
“Don’t worry. The Archduke probably didn’t read them properly. None of the noble heirs I dealt with ever did. Just tell me roughly what you wrote. I’ll handle the rest.”
The problem was—that wasn’t true at all.
But Betty could only force a smile and nod.
Even if Vivian was starting to treat her warmly, there was one truth she couldn’t reveal.
That she hadn’t just written the letters for the young lady…
…but had written them as the young lady herself.
