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Chapter : 32
Cedric slept well.
The sight of him lying there with his eyes shut as if dead felt unfamiliar—like she was watching a stranger.
Every so often, his eyelids fluttered. Aside from that, he didn’t move at all. It was strange how quiet he was, like a corpse, even while dozing on an uncomfortable chair. The sharp, dangerous aura he usually carried was nowhere to be felt.
“If you’d just keep your mouth shut…”
Lauren muttered slowly.
At that moment, Cedric lazily opened his eyes. Still heavy with sleep, his hazy green gaze settled on her. After blinking a few times, his eyes gradually came into focus.
“I’m a light sleeper.”
His voice was low and subdued. Lauren quickly turned her gaze toward the window. Cedric didn’t add anything else, only roughly dragging a hand down his face.
“I was wondering why you were being so careless for once. Turns out you had something to rely on?”
She tossed out the comment half-jokingly.
“Falling asleep recklessly in a place like this would be idiotic.”
Now fully awake, Cedric smoothly shot back.
Lauren didn’t reply. She only stared at the scenery passing by through the narrow gap in the curtains. She hadn’t even been doing anything bad, but being caught watching him made her face feel inexplicably warm.
Silence settled inside the train car. Only the occasional clatter of the wheels could be heard.
Lauren began flipping through the newspaper again. She’d only skimmed the advertisements before, but there were quite a few interesting articles. Slowly, she became absorbed in reading.
“What’s so interesting?”
Cedric asked, seeing Lauren bury her face in the paper.
“Have you ever been to the Fernand Theater?”
She murmured without looking at him.
The Fernand Theater—
A basement theater in the heart of the capital, owned by the Fernand Troupe.
There was only one reason the once-wandering troupe touring the provinces had become successful enough to establish their own theater.
Isabella.
She was called the greatest actress of the modern era, but just five years ago, she’d been nothing more than a gofer running errands for the troupe.
Then, five years ago, a single performance—that stage—turned her life upside down. When the lead actress was suddenly injured, Isabella took her place and delivered a once-in-a-lifetime performance.
Thanks to that, both the Fernand Troupe and Isabella achieved tremendous success overnight.
Even Lauren, who had never seen a single Fernand performance, knew her name. She was famous enough to lead the capital’s trends.
“I’ve been there. Is there an article about the troupe?”
“Yes. I was just surprised that something like this made it into the paper.”
“That’s rich. You’ve made the front page of gossip rags yourself.”
Lauren snorted softly. By now, that level of provocation didn’t bother her at all. Cedric leaned slightly toward her.
“What—do you want to see it?”
She quickly folded the newspaper. Cedric’s gaze, which had been following the lines of text, drifted uselessly into the air.
“I’m bored either way. Wouldn’t it be better to at least read the paper or have a conversation?”
He stretched out his arm to take it, but Lauren folded the paper smaller and hugged it tightly to her chest before he could grab it.
A light scuffle followed—one trying to steal, the other trying to protect. After a few brief tussles, Cedric finally gave up.
“Fine. How childish.”
He sank back deeply into his seat. Childish, he said. Somehow, it felt like losing even though she’d won.
Lauren unfolded the newspaper again and continued reading. It was an article about the Fernand Theater.
The performances starring Isabella had been abruptly canceled without prior notice, and complaints were pouring in.
The article ended by raising the possibility that something might have happened to Isabella.
“Cedric, then you’ve seen Isabella in person, haven’t you?”
She closed the paper and spoke to Cedric, who was leaning his elbow against the window frame. He nodded slowly.
“I saw exactly two plays at the Fernand Theater. One was ‘O Goddess, Sing’, and the other… I don’t remember well. It was an original piece, and frankly, it wasn’t very interesting. Isabella starred in both.”
“What was she like? Was she really as beautiful as they say?”
“Sounds like the article was singing her praises.”
“Well… pretty much. Let’s see…”
Lauren flipped through the paper again and slowly read aloud a sentence that caught her eye. Her quiet voice echoed softly.
‘The audience deeply regrets being unable to witness the golden hair that looks as though it were drawn from pure gold.’
“Did you buy a poetry book instead of a newspaper?”
“I guess the reporter is a huge fan of Isabella.”
Cedric crossed his arms. As if recalling the performances he’d seen, he narrowed his eyes.
“She definitely stood out… Bright blond hair. Even from the audience, you could clearly see her face—her features were very striking.”
“And?”
“That’s it.”
He shrugged. Somehow, that felt disappointing. Traveling in silence with just the two of them was terribly dull.
Just as Lauren was about to ask something else, the door to the train car suddenly opened.
At the same time, Cedric slipped a hand into his coat and gripped the handle of his pistol. He spread his arm and pulled Lauren behind him.
Lauren’s vision filled with Cedric’s back, tense and rigid with alertness.
“Oh! I’m sorry. Isn’t this the dining car? It’s my first time on a train like this…”
The voice was extremely thin and clear. Just hearing it, one could imagine a beauty behind it. There was unmistakable urgency in the intruder’s tone.
“Cedric, move aside.”
Lauren whispered.
Cedric was tall enough that he completely blocked her view of the woman who had entered.
He hesitated briefly, then shifted aside to give Lauren a clear line of sight.
“…Be careful.”
He added the warning in a low voice.
Once Cedric moved, the woman finally came into view. She was dressed like a newspaper boy—an old brown vest and baggy trousers.
On the street, she might’ve blended naturally into a crowd. But she was standing in a first-class train car that not just anyone could enter.
A woman dressed in men’s clothes, wearing a beret pulled so low it obscured her features.
She was breathing far too heavily for someone who had simply mistaken the car for the dining area—as if she had rushed in while fleeing something.
Suspicious.
Cedric seemed to think the same, his hand still firmly gripping the pistol.
“You seem to be mistaken. The dining car is toward the back. You should have passed it on your way here… didn’t you notice?”
Lauren spoke gently. Cedric stood silently behind her, guarding her back.
“…Is that so? I was a bit flustered…”
The woman hesitated briefly, then replied calmly. She added, “Thank you for telling me.”
Even after saying that, she didn’t leave, lingering awkwardly as if she had some kind of situation.
“Well, now that you know where the dining car is, could you please—”
A loud knock cut Lauren off.
Bang! Bang!
Someone was pounding violently on the door from outside, with enough force to suggest they’d break it down if it wasn’t opened.
Tension instantly filled the train car.
“Hey! Is anyone in there?!”
The person outside began shouting.
That was when it happened.
The woman urgently tore off the beret pulled low over her eyebrows. Blond hair, hidden tightly beneath it, spilled out like a waterfall.
Hair like it had been drawn from pure gold.
Lauren realized the article hadn’t been exaggerating.
Isabella—
The muse of the Fernand Theater, the most beloved actress of high society—stood before them.
“…Cedric, you didn’t hire her, did you?”
Lauren muttered blankly.
In response, all she got was a hollow, breathless heh.
Another knock echoed from outside. Whoever it was clearly had no intention of leaving until the door was opened. Neither Lauren nor Cedric wanted any more trouble.
“Please… please help me just this once. I’ll explain everything after those people leave. Please. I’m sure they’re here for me.”
Isabella clasped her hands together and looked at them with desperate eyes.
Cedric frowned slightly. After a brief moment of resolve, he turned halfway around and pulled Lauren firmly into his arms.
