HSLF 18

Chapter 18

“I told you I’m busy right now.”

Even though it was Lyle, whom she had met in an unexpected place and in an unexpected situation, he still didn’t seem to understand what she was saying.

“If you’re being chased—”
“Stop. Stop asking.”

Dorothy, feeling anxious, grabbed Lyle’s hand tightly with her other hand. It seemed almost painfully strong, but with the black mask, it was impossible to read his thoughts.

“Miss Dorothy?”
“Let’s go together.”

Dorothy gripped his hand with determination. At this point, with Norobin Moben following, there was no time to leisurely explain the situation to Lyle. Dorothy was naturally better at explaining things through action rather than words.

“?”
“Quickly!”

And so, she ran, holding onto Lyle’s hand with all her strength.

Whether Lyle was bewildered or not, Dorothy pulled with all her might. At first, he didn’t move at all, but soon he began to follow Dorothy’s lead.

When Dorothy took three small, quick steps, Lyle matched that in a single stride.

What the…?

Before she knew it, Lyle was matching his pace with Dorothy. Annoying. While Dorothy was running as fast as she could, Lyle was merely walking briskly.

How irritating. She already felt frustrated because her outfit didn’t allow her to run properly, and now this?

Lyle, walking casually beside Dorothy, glanced back and asked:
“Why is the Moben heir pursuing you, Miss Dorothy?”

“Don’t turn around. Pretend you didn’t hear or see anything.”

Dorothy scolded him, but Lyle pretended not to hear or see, then asked again:
“You were trying to get outside, weren’t you?”

“That’s the plan, but there’s no door. Ugh, really, where is it? Whoever designed this party hall is a fool. Trapping customers to make a sale?”

Dorothy muttered irritably. Lyle fell silent.

“Quickly, Lyle, find out where the exit is too.”

“The exit door is in the opposite direction.”

Dorothy spun to face him sharply:
“Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?”

“You didn’t ask at first? You said you’d help if I was being chased.”

“No, it’s better to just tell me right away instead of making me ask. Useless. Which way do I go?”

Dorothy grumbled, sharp-tongued, and urged Lyle to guide her.

“This way. But I’ve never heard anyone say that before.”

She followed his directions, but his voice sounded quite embarrassed, as if he were shocked.

No one had ever told him that? That couldn’t be. Judging by Lyle’s actions, she was sure someone must have struggled because of him.

Even the rumors that Dorothy had traveled alone with Lyle stemmed from him.

So why didn’t anyone wake her?

If someone had gone through life so obliviously, surely someone close would have expressed their frustration.

“Lyle, do you ever feel unfairly disliked by your companions?”

Oh, did she hit a sore spot? No answer. She had asked out of pure curiosity, but suddenly felt guilty.

“You don’t have to answer. Uh, sorry.”

“Here.”

Before her brief apology ended, Lyle led Dorothy past a partition. She had expected it to be a lounge like elsewhere, but it wasn’t.

There was a secret door behind a chair.

This must be the exit. Luckily, Norobin hadn’t followed them here.

She hoped everyone would understand that she wasn’t ignoring or fleeing from the Moben heir, but simply being guided naturally outside by the servant.

“You said you wanted to leave, so I brought you here.”
“?”
“There’s one problem.”
“If you say there’s a problem, I’ll be worried.”
“This door leads to the corridor used by the servants. It might be tricky to navigate.”

That made sense. Dorothy nodded.
“I’ll stick close to you.”

Lyle didn’t reply immediately. How well she could stick close—did he not trust her? Dorothy linked her arm firmly with his.

“We’ll go like this.”

“…No, rather, Miss Dorothy. From what you said, it seems you know what kind of party this is today.”

“Me? What did I say?”

Dorothy’s memory of their conversation on the way here was fuzzy.

“About the items for sale at today’s party.”

Ah, that.

Wait, did she say that?

But how did he know?

“How do you know that, Lyle… huh!”

Dorothy covered her mouth with one hand. Oh my. Realizing this now, she pointed at him with the other.

“Drug dealer?”

Then she pointed toward the party.

“Selling medicine?”

She had thought he only dealt with dangerous poisons, but apparently he scammed people like a traveling medicine peddler? Judging by his healthy appearance, he seemed unrelated to illegal drugs, but appearances can be deceiving.

Wow, the “medicine peddler” at the party was actually him!

That explained why he was disguised as a servant. The servants here wore black masks, so no one would be distracted by his face. Wow, how calculated!

All of this just to sell medicine. Everything fit perfectly—it was chilling how well it aligned.

Wait, did she just find a bad guy sneaking into a party to scam people like a medicine peddler? Should she report him? But Lyle was her benefactor. Though they were mutual benefactors.

Dorothy, a model citizen who wouldn’t even step on grass carelessly, seriously pondered: should she report this or not?

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but it’s not that.”
“I wasn’t thinking anything.”

Caught. Lyle’s expressionless black mask seemed to scold her. She hadn’t done anything bad, so why was she nervous? Don’t be.

“…Alright, I understand it’s not that. Miss Dorothy, I still have business inside, so I must go back. Please forgive my rudeness for not escorting you all the way.”

Seeing him openly going to sell medicine made her heart pound. Being involved in illegal activity was thrilling.

She hadn’t wanted to know, but now it felt like removing one worry added another.

If crazy people can be handled as crazy, then Lyle must also be considered crazy? Nothing’s going right today.

Dorothy sighed softly, then resolved firmly:
“No.”

No matter what, she couldn’t allow herself to become that kind of person.

“Miss Dorothy?”

She couldn’t ignore someone about to do something bad. Lyle was a benefactor, so she couldn’t report him. Yet she couldn’t let him walk a bad path either. A deep sense of righteousness surged inside her.

Being a good citizen is always a difficult law to follow. How could she refuse to do the right thing?

“Don’t go.”
“?”
“Don’t go to the party. Stay with me.”

Dorothy insisted strongly.
“It’ll be more fun with me.”

“Miss Dorothy, I…”
“Me? The party?”
“I don’t know why I should answer that question.”

Not working.

“I saved you, remember?”

Dorothy spoke as if it were a reasonable demand.
“That’s different from this…”
“The benefactor is asking you. Will you go anyway?”

She added a hint of reproach. After all, they were mutual benefactors. He wouldn’t ignore her request, right?

“You’ve heard the saying, ‘You must grant a request from your benefactor.’ I’m sure you understand loyalty, Lyle?”

Of course, she made that up. But Dorothy had a way of telling fictional stories as if they were real. It didn’t matter if he later realized it wasn’t real. What mattered was that it worked now.

Lyle’s voice was troubled:
“Miss Dorothy, when you helped me then…”
“You didn’t help—you saved me.”
“Yes. I’m grateful for being saved. I’ll visit your mansion later to—”
“Now.”

Dorothy cut him off.
“What’s the point of delaying? Meeting like this is fate, isn’t it?”
“That’s difficult…”
“Now is perfect.”

Dorothy unleashed her sparkling-eyed technique. Normally, Lexa or Rops would pretend to vomit and comply when she used it.

It was a high-level skill—using disgust to compel someone to do as she wished. She used it sparingly, but sometimes the moment demanded it.

Clearly, Lyle couldn’t move one way or the other. His face wasn’t visible, but she could tell he was resisting internally.

The technique she honed while playing with the Barbarin siblings was now proving its worth. Nothing is ever useless, she thought.

Dorothy pulled Lyle toward the doorknob. Polite as he was, Lyle hesitated, unable to push away her linked arm.

“I’ll take good care of you,” she said.

At that moment, a door clicked.
“Let’s go to my house.”

Huh? She hadn’t opened it.

“Hoho, last time you gave me…? Huh? Who’s there…?”

Who could it be?

Someone entered from outside. Dorothy recognized the person.

Masks may hide faces, but not from someone you know. The people at the party were all recognizable. Dorothy had said it herself. No matter how fancy the mask, you could recognize familiar faces—just like Norobin Moben.

‘Countess Rollo…?’
“Miss Dorothy Sailor?”

Cold sweat ran under Dorothy’s mask.
“And that person next to you…? No, I—”
“……”

Likely, the Countess felt the same.

The two women, wearing elaborate party masks, faced each other awkwardly. Each had a black-masked servant linked to their arm.

It looked like both sides were enjoying manipulating a strong male servant. Quite a dangerous turn of events today.

Think, Dorothy. When witnessing the Countess’s affair before, what was the proper response?

Option 1: Pretend not to see.

But that choice vanished ten seconds ago. They recognized each other the moment they saw one another. Only one option remained:

Option 2: Deny everything.

“Lexa’s boyfriend!”