HPCM 09

Chapter 09 …

It was not particularly surprising to see young noble ladies walking around the banquet hall in pairs or trios.

Whether they were heading to the lounge or taking a stroll through the gardens, it naturally appeared far more sociable than wandering alone with only a maid in tow.

So at first glance, it certainly was not an especially suspicious sight…

“…Ludvik.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Stay here for a moment. There is somewhere I need to go.”

Alfonso simply could not ignore that scene.

“This should be far enough that no one is nearby.”

Having reached a secluded area deep within the rear gardens of Marquis Mavel’s estate, Charlotte slowly turned on her heel.

Her dress swayed gracefully with her movement before cascading elegantly back into place.

Had it been anyone else, they might have forgotten even who Charlotte Noha was—forgotten her infamous reputation entirely—and simply admired her poise.

But the woman standing before Charlotte, Vivian Mavel, could not possibly do that.

With trembling hands clasped tightly against her chest, Vivian spoke through a stiffened expression.

“If you’ve brought me all the way here, then stop wasting time and reveal your purpose. What exactly did you mean by saying that to me?”

“…Isn’t that a bit hostile just because we changed locations? Weren’t we getting along quite well just moments ago, Vivian Mavel? I thought we were having a rather pleasant conversation.”

“It would have been pleasant enough… if only my companion had been anyone but you, Lady Noha.”

“Ah, is that because I’m the infamous villainess of House Noha?”

At Charlotte’s question, Vivian squeezed her eyes shut.

It was both an affirmation and a denial.

As Charlotte had implied, Vivian truly had been enjoying herself tonight.

When the notorious villainess of Noha first appeared, she had certainly been tense—

But…

‘She was far more charming than I expected.’

Charlotte’s conversational skill was exceptional. Even among those who initially viewed her with caution, she slipped effortlessly into discussion and even led the atmosphere into something cheerful.

Vivian could practically feel the surrounding ladies’ opinions of Charlotte steadily softening by the moment.

“Lady Noha, you’re truly delightful. I almost wish I could imitate your way with words.”

“You flatter me. I’m not nearly so remarkable. Though perhaps the poetry collections I often read may have helped.”

“Poetry collections? Now I’m curious what Lady Noha would recommend.”

“Oh? If you’re curious, then I see no reason not to tell you.”

Charlotte then smoothly listed several famous poetry anthologies.

“And ‘Rhetoric of the Seasons.’ I enjoy that one as well.”

“I’ve never heard of that title before. Is it perhaps a new poet’s work?”

“Ah, yes. It isn’t famous. But I’m certain all of you would love it.”

Yes—up until then, there had been absolutely nothing strange.

The problem came after.

In the midst of their lively conversation, Charlotte bent down to retrieve a handkerchief she had dropped.

And then—

“If you don’t want everyone to learn your secret, follow me.”

A voice so quiet that only Vivian, seated directly beside her, could hear.

If anyone else had said it, Vivian likely would have ignored them.

She might even have denied everything outright.

But—

‘The one saying it is Charlotte Noha.’

Vivian had heard countless stories of the cruelties committed by Charlotte and House Noha.

There were even rumors of people who had tried to stand against Charlotte’s tyranny, only to end up with swollen cheeks, ruined hair, and complete surrender.

‘There’s no way she could know that secret.’

I just need to deny it and return calmly.

Finally steadying herself, Vivian slowly opened her eyes again.

“…I have no desire to oppose you, Lady Noha. I don’t know what you think you know, but this is some misunderstanding—”

“Misunderstanding?”

Charlotte gave a light laugh before continuing coldly.

“What exactly is the misunderstanding? That you aren’t the real Vivian? Or that the real Vivian is the one pretending to be your maid?”

“W-What nonsense are you talking about? Of course I’m Vivian Mavel. My maid is—”

“Melia Ruhen. The maid said to have grown up alongside Lady Mavel like her twin. I saw her earlier. Your build and appearance are nearly identical.”

Both had brown hair, with only one possessing a slightly more orange tint.

As Charlotte continued, the woman before her visibly paled.

“You’re accusing me of not being Vivian over something that trivial?”

“As if. Of course I confirmed it.”

Rhetoric of the Seasons.

It was not actually the title of a poetry collection.

“You claim to be Vivian, and yet apparently you don’t even know the title of the poem Vivian Mavel presented at the salon five years ago.”

“…!”

“I remember. I was there. I even remember how the opening verse begins. Can you recite it?”

“I—I…”

“‘Upon winter’s fading dusk, snow scatters over magnolia’s prayer. Frozen white foam transforms into sustenance for butterflies.’”

Reciting the verse almost like a song, Charlotte slowly raised an eyebrow.

“Can you continue the next line?”

“Th-That…”

“Someone who isn’t Vivian herself could never remember this poem, could they, Melia?”

“H-How… how do you…?”

Vivian—
No, Melia—
froze completely white.

She had intended to deny everything somehow, but never imagined she would be cornered so perfectly.

‘…How predictable.’

Vivian must have assumed that because she had rarely appeared publicly, no one would notice.

Charlotte looked at Melia with an emotionless gaze.

‘Though to be fair… no one but me probably would have.’

In truth, Charlotte herself was deeply shocked.

Because strictly speaking, this was not what she had originally intended to test.

When Charlotte had investigated Vivian Mavel—

“Vivian’s maid is named Melia Ruhen? That great literary figure?”

She had discovered a name destined to rise like a comet in the literary world three years later.

And she had also noticed that the poem Vivian presented at the salon five years ago was astonishingly similar in style to the future writings Charlotte remembered from Melia Ruhen.

‘So I merely wondered if perhaps Melia had written Vivian’s poetry for her…’

Never had she imagined that Melia and Vivian had actually switched identities entirely.

Vivian was the future great author.

Melia Ruhen was Vivian.

This catch was far bigger than expected.

“I had already found it strange. According to my investigation, Vivian Mavel was an introvert who barely participated in society. Yet the Vivian I met was lively and sociable.”

“……”

“The real Vivian likely never wanted this marriage in the first place. Becoming a duchess would be far too much for someone who’s spent her life indoors reading books.”

So she had likely handed that suffocating noble identity—one that would only act as chains—to the maid she had grown up with like a sister, while she herself wished to live as a commoner and write.

“Am I wrong?”

“…You’re right.”

At last, Melia confessed through tears.

“My lady… never wanted the life of nobility. And I… I envied her life instead. Marquis Mavel also cherished me like a daughter…”

“So that’s why you intended to carry out this absurd fraud. If this is discovered, not only you, but Marquis Mavel as an accomplice, would never escape severe punishment. And considering your target is the Duke of Eduard…”

As Charlotte murmured coldly, Melia gasped and suddenly grabbed Charlotte’s hand.

“I-I’ll do anything! Please, just keep this secret. This is all my fault. The Marquis and my lady did nothing wrong…”

“How could they possibly be innocent? You didn’t commit this fraud alone.”

“I-It’s true! Please, just this once, overlook it. There must be something you want, right? That’s why you brought me here, isn’t it?”

Melia clung to her, sobbing uncontrollably.

To her, it truly felt like the end.

‘And of all people… Charlotte Noha.’

Surely Charlotte would exploit this weakness and make some horrifying demand.

She knew that.

But she also could not allow the Mavel family’s deception to be exposed like this.

“Anything… I’ll do anything. You can even beat me until you’re satisfied, so please…”

So please, just spare us.

At last, Charlotte’s cold lips parted.

“There is only one thing I want in exchange for my silence.”

What kind of demand would it be?

Would she demand all of House Mavel’s wealth?

Or force Melia to take the blame for Noha’s crimes?

Whatever it was, Melia had prepared herself.

And finally, Charlotte’s demand emerged—

“Cancel the marriage negotiation with the Duke of Eduard. That alone is enough.”

“…That’s all? B-But this…”

This was a weakness powerful enough to destroy House Mavel entirely.

And the infamous villainess of Noha—who was said to fabricate weaknesses just to crush people—wanted only that?

‘Of course, breaking an engagement isn’t simple…’

But compared to risking her family’s complete ruin, ending one marriage negotiation was a bargain.

Melia even stopped crying as she stared at Charlotte.

Yet the so-called cruel villainess merely looked down at her with icy indifference.

“I have no interest in your circumstances. Whether you continue deceiving people about your identities or not is your problem.”

Under the tear-blurred night sky, red hair fluttered lightly in the wind.

And in that moment—

The contempt of a woman with no trace of a smile felt kinder than any smile Melia had ever seen.