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Chapter 28
There’s No Vase.
Marienne looked around Odette’s private lounge — far more luxurious than the one reserved for ordinary ladies. No matter how many times she blinked, the situation didn’t change.
“What on earth is this.”
Unwilling to give up, Marienne crawled across the floor of the lounge.
If only the furniture had been fixed to the floor — she might’ve hoped for the vase to be hidden somewhere near them. But every piece of furniture that looked heavy enough had legs.
It was a new kind of frustration — the story had diverged from the original, and now it was infuriating.
Even if the culprit had taken the earrings, the vase that the footman had supposedly left behind should still be here.
“At this rate, I’ll have to strip that bastard again.”
The brazen face of that northern man flashed through her mind. Just thinking that the missing earrings might be his own setup — that it was all his little act — made her blood boil.
“He works his subordinates to the bone, drags half the staff into this search, and then plans to take all of Odette’s trust for himself?”
And then, suddenly, enlightenment struck her.
Ah, so that’s why the novel’s synopsis had the ‘schemer male lead’ tag!
Odette uses her brain all the time, and that northern jerk just uses his body — so why the hell is he the schemer?
Marienne groaned, half in disbelief, half in outrage.
The male lead should be plotting to protect the heroine, not throwing her into the pit and then saving her to look cool!
What kind of “schemer” was that? The definition itself was wrong.
In Marienne Didi’s world, that kind of guy was called a villain.
“Hair, heart — both pitch black, that bastard…”
Marienne threw open the door of the lounge with determination.
And wouldn’t you know it — they say if you talk about the devil, he appears.
She had only been muttering a few insults to herself, but there he was — the Northern Bastard himself, standing right beyond the door.
“Crazy rabbit. Shall we have a little talk?”
◇ ◆ ◇
Marienne guessed Cain had followed her on purpose — his expression when the door opened said it all.
Cain Blackwood looked bored. Like a man who’d grown tired of waiting for whoever was inside to finally come out.
“You do realize this is the opera house’s private lounge for the Fourth Princess, yes?”
He stepped inside, one slow step after another. Marienne didn’t back away — she stood her ground.
The distance closed until her nose almost brushed his chest. And then came that familiar scent — cold northern wind, snowfields, and broken branches.
Ugh, this damn cliché again! How would I even know what snow smells like? I’ve never smelled it in my life! So why do I recognize it?!
Marienne glared up at him, furious, as she was slowly pushed backward.
Of course. This man could stop a moving wagon barehanded — flipping a small girl like her with his pinky finger would be nothing.
“My fiancée is still in the royal box,” he said. “So I’d like to hear why the Prime Minister’s third aide is coming out of the Princess’s empty lounge.”
He closed the door behind him — click. The sound of the lock sliding into place was clear.
“Obviously, I’m searching for the missing earrings.”
Instead of stepping back, Marienne tilted her head back to meet his eyes.
“Aren’t we all searching for them, Duke Blackwood?”
“You’re using proper honorifics today. What’s gotten into you?”
“There’s a southern wind this morning,” she said sweetly.
Then, stepping away, she flicked open her fan — not delicately like Cloise, but sharply, like she might use it to smack him across the face.
“I’ve answered your question. Now it’s my turn. Why did a married man-to-be block my way and lock the door?”
She tilted her head.
“Given the situation, wouldn’t more people searching be a good thing?”
“Does House Beers make smart pills now?” he muttered with a smirk.
“You’re starting to sound like my fiancée.”
“How dare I imitate the noble and wise Princess,” Marienne replied stiffly.
“You couldn’t compare anyway.”
Cain cut her off coldly.
“Odette Rose is ten thousand times smarter than you, crazy rabbit.”
Ten thousand times? Not even ten? What was she, a trilobite?
Marienne pressed her lips tightly together, holding back every curse that wanted to burst out.
“We both have questions,” he said finally. “Let’s skip the pretense and get to the point.”
He told her to act like her usual self — and to ask first. He’d answer after hearing her question.
Annoying, but fair enough.
He’d clearly tailed her — and she wanted to confirm what had happened to the earrings.
“You’re the one who hid them, aren’t you?”
Silence.
“Your turn.”
Still silence.
“What, cat got your tongue?”
“Do you know the secret of my hair?”
Question exchange complete. Marienne told him he should answer first. Cain shot it down instantly.
“No, you first.”
God, he was infuriating.
“You want to get rid of me,” he said quietly. “Yet you didn’t expose my secret to Priest Anais during the engagement ceremony. Why?”
His voice dropped lower.
“And how do you even know my secret?”
He even knew about her encounter with Anais. That meant he’d been getting reports on her movements for some time.
Marienne’s fan fluttered irritably. She was furious.
Odette was the novel’s heroine — her choices were always justified, and she was the one Baileon loved.
So it was fine to be pushed around by her. Everyone in the Empire was, anyway.
But to have been played by Cain Blackwood? That was another matter entirely.
“It’s not you I want to get rid of — just your hair.”
“My hair…?”
“If you die, who protects the North? Besides, Leslie Anais is the Second Prince’s ally. Why would I leak your secret to her and give Odette’s enemies ammunition?”
Cain’s expression twisted — confusion.
So even the “man with an ice-cold heart” could look like that when he had no idea what was going on. Marienne almost found it educational.
“So you support my fiancée, then.”
“Glad you caught on.”
“If I shave my head right now, does that mean you’ll stop bothering me?”
“Yep.”
“You… seriously…”
He muttered loud enough for her to hear:
“Did you cheat on the civil service exam?”
What did that have to do with anything?! Marienne scowled.
“Say my secret again — properly.”
“Cain Blackwood’s superhuman strength comes from his long black hair. The shorter it gets, the weaker he becomes. Satisfied?”
“So you do know. And you think I’ll just let you live—”
Whack!
Her fan smacked his mouth. He’d been too busy reciting his ominous line to block it.
“Oh, please. You’re not the only one allowed to keep secrets. It’s your turn to answer.”
Marienne glared.
“You hid the Fourth Princess’s earrings, didn’t you?”
Cain met her gaze, his eyes strangely glinting.
“How do you even know that?”
“Ha.”
Gotcha.
Marienne suppressed a tired sigh.
“Lady Beers knows the truth, too. If I don’t return soon, she and Lord Beers will come looking — and the attendants will search you head to toe. So hand it over.”
“And if I do?”
“If you do what?”
“What’ll you do?”
So much for “schemer male lead” — his brain clearly glitched halfway.
“Obviously, I’ll return it to its rightful owner.”
“Then why don’t I just give it to the Princess myself?”
“No.”
Marienne snapped.
“This whole stunt was to make her owe you a favor, wasn’t it? If you give it to her directly, it’ll go exactly how you planned.”
“So you admit it’s my setup.”
“Still no! Absolutely not. Hand it to me — or else…”
Cain tilted his head, curious.
“Or else what?”
“I’ll hand it to Lord Beers.”
He just stared for a long moment — then unexpectedly, laughed.
“So all this… was for your dear Minister Beers? Right, you like your boss, and your boss likes my fiancée.”
“Think whatever you want. Just give me the earrings.”
“You’d give all the credit for defying me to your superior? Does he even know what you’re doing?”
No — she couldn’t give him room to turn this around. He was deflecting again instead of answering.
“What’s so great about Beers anyway?”
“Go bald first. Then we’ll talk.”
Marienne snapped her fan shut loudly.
“The earrings. Now.”
“Don’t have them.”
“Stop lying.”
“Even if you strip-search me, you won’t find them.”
Marienne froze — he had prepared for that possibility.
“Then where did you hide them?”
Cain smirked.
“You’ve got the face of someone ready to jump into hellfire.”
Then he added:
“They’re in a pink envelope. Go look for it — in the darkest, scariest, dirtiest place in this building.”
◇ ◆ ◇
“So, what do you think is the darkest, scariest, dirtiest place in this building?”
Hands clasped as if praying, Marienne asked the janitor. Cloise stood beside her.
Before coming here, the two had disagreed.
Cloise, upon hearing the clue, had immediately suggested they go to the theater owner — after all, he’d have blueprints of the opera house and the authority to summon staff.
Marienne had wagged her finger. Blueprints wouldn’t say which parts were “scary” or “dirty.”
And from her humble bureaucratic experience, she knew: employees rarely spoke freely in front of their bosses.
If a janitor mentioned the dirtiest place, they’d probably be scolded for not cleaning it better.
And the result?
As you can see, Marienne won that debate. Cloise looked a bit flustered, admitting she hadn’t considered the worker’s position.
The elderly janitor, however, didn’t hesitate for a second.
“The darkest, scariest, dirtiest place? That’d be the basement storage, of course.”
Marienne could almost see it — just hearing those words.
Two hundred fifty years of history, rebuilt and expanded countless times — and beneath it all, that ancient storage room.
“A dust pit, then,” Marienne muttered.
“Oh, miss, dust isn’t the real problem,” said the janitor gravely. “No one’s been down there in… what, five years?”
The old man continued in a quiet, steady tone.
“Five years ago, a footman went in on a dare — a test of courage, they said. He strutted in, but less than thirty minutes later he came out babbling nonsense. Ran straight to a priest, begging to be saved.”
“Begging to be saved?” Cloise repeated.
“Aye, miss. Haven’t you heard? They say the basement storage is cursed. Anyone who enters sees their worst fear — an illusion so real it drives them mad.”
The janitor’s voice lowered, cautious now.
“But surely, miss… you’re not planning to go down there, are you?”
