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Chapter 26
So this was how it had all happened.
In truth, that wandering poet had been a con artist after the count’s fortune.
With his handsome face and eloquent tongue, he had approached her deliberately from the start, setting out to ensnare a naïve young noblewoman.
Otherwise, the odds of a noble lady and a wandering poet meeting by chance were absurdly low to begin with.
Even the body parts of a man found near Lady Airington’s corpse on the day of the incident had been a ruse.
He had intentionally severed his own fingers and toes to make it look as though he had died.
“…That’s how it was. Am I wrong?”
As I recounted the events of that day as though I’d witnessed them myself, the man’s face grew even paler.
“Y-you… How on earth do you know all that…?”
Obviously, I’d read it in the novel.
But there was no reason to kindly explain that to him.
“That’s not something you need to know.”
I snapped coldly and stepped into the shanty.
It was a cramped space that would feel full with just two people standing inside.
There wasn’t a single piece of decent furniture, and empty liquor bottles were strewn across the floor.
“Unbelievable. You pulled off a once-in-a-lifetime scam, and this is how you end up living?”
At my incredulous remark, the man flushed red and shouted,
“I—I was tricked by those thieves too! I’m a victim as well!”
“Tricked?”
“They—I swear they said they wouldn’t kill her! They said they’d just take the gold… but then they tried to kill both of us…!”
“……”
“That day, I barely escaped with my life!”
Ah. So they’d merely used this man for his decent looks to lure in the young lady.
And once that was done, they discarded him as well.
Even so, I had no intention of taking his circumstances into account.
I spoke coolly.
“…So what?”
“W-what?”
Staring at him in his confusion, I continued in an unfeeling tone.
“A victim? You approached Lady Airington from the start with the intention of deceiving her.”
“I—I…”
“And does that somehow excuse what you did to her?”
Unable to refute my sharp words, the man hung his head.
Yet I felt not a shred of sympathy.
In a cold, threatening voice, I asked,
“Where is Lady Airington’s rosary? You took it with you that day.”
Yes. The reason only the rosary she always wore around her neck had vanished—
Was because this man had fled with it.
“Lady Vanetta is desperately searching for it.”
“I—I know… I kept thinking I should return it, b-but I couldn’t muster the courage.”
“Why?”
“I—I was afraid the thieves might track me down…”
“Coward.”
At my blunt condemnation, the man collapsed weakly to the floor.
Even in his drunken state, it seemed he still understood shame.
If words hadn’t worked, I was prepared to beat it out of him.
Inside my pocket, I brushed my fingers against the disposable self-defense device I’d bought at a magic tool shop.
There was no way I would have come into a slum like this with only a disguise and no preparation.
Still, it didn’t seem necessary to use it after all.
Looking down at the man, his nose red, I spoke quietly.
“You know it too. The rightful owner of that rosary is the countess. She was the only person who truly loved Lady Airington.”
“Truly… loved her…?”
His voice trembled.
And not just from the alcohol.
After shaking for a long while, he slowly reached toward the floor.
What is he doing?
He lifted a rotting floorboard and retrieved something carefully wrapped in a handkerchief beneath it.
When he unfolded the white cloth embroidered with the letters [V.A.], a pink rosary appeared.
“…So that’s where you kept it.”
That must have been how it escaped the notice of debt collectors.
It looked like all the other furniture and valuables had already been taken.
As I surveyed the empty shack, I asked,
“Why didn’t you sell this to the end, even while drowning in debt? It would’ve fetched a decent price.”
“I—I tried to sell it m-many times. When I don’t drink, my hands shake too m-much. But somehow…”
“……”
“I couldn’t sell it…”
He muttered like a drunkard, bowing his head in anguish.
I let out a long sigh.
In the original story, the rosary didn’t return to Lady Vanetta’s hands until about three years later.
Just before this man died from complications of alcoholism, he sent her a parcel as his final act of conscience.
Along with a letter honestly detailing his crimes and his regrets afterward.
That he had approached the young lady with the intent to deceive her, but eventually came to love her himself.
That after the incident, his life had completely fallen apart under the weight of guilt and remorse.
The one person who had smiled so brightly at him, the only person who had ever loved him with a pure heart for the first time in his life…
“I let her slip through my fingers. I only realized it after I’d lost her…”
Covering his face with trembling hands, he continued,
“Ever since that day, I can’t sleep unless I drink…”
Without a word, I carefully tucked the rosary and handkerchief into my coat.
The man didn’t stop crying even as I left the shanty behind.
He was already wandering through his own personal hell—there was no need for me to condemn him further.
Leaving the sobbing man as he was, I swept my black coat behind me and exited the slum.
While walking through the city, I suddenly came to a halt.
Tilting my head up toward the sky, I shouted,
“Ugh, this feels awful!”
People passing by whispered as they stared at me.
“Mom, look at that person!”
“Shh. Don’t point at suspicious people.”
Ignoring them, I scratched my scalp vigorously beneath my wig.
I’d recovered the rosary, but my mood was still unsettled.
How on earth was I supposed to explain this whole mess to Lady Vanetta?
That even Lady Airington’s love had been a lie? That it had all been an elaborate scam?
The image of the elderly woman, gazing forlornly at rain-soaked blue hydrangeas, came to mind.
“…I want to offer her some kind of comfort.”
But I only knew one way to comfort someone.
Make them a good cup of coffee.
Like that bitterly cold winter day when a single warm cup of coffee had melted my own heart—
I wanted to offer Lady Vanetta a cup of comfort as well.
However, as far as I knew, there was only one place where coffee beans could be obtained right now.
And that place was run by Empress Carlota…
I loitered in the street for a moment in my suspicious getup.
“Mom, that weird lady over there…!”
“Shh.”
But my hesitation was brief.
I’m in disguise, so it’ll be fine.
If those two men I’d met before were there, perhaps they’d show me kindness again.
With that, I headed toward the suspicious building tucked away in the alley.
Dressed in the most ridiculous, bizarre outfit imaginable.
The new product development division of the Roderick Trading Company.
“…It tastes bad.”
Still wearing his disguise magic tool, Taeyon set down the cup of coffee.
It wasn’t that the coffee itself tasted bad.
After all, it was the coffee the empress had given him as he left the Rose Palace.
“A gift. It’s strong-brewed coffee. Just add hot water before drinking.”
He had poured water into the concentrated coffee contained in the enchanted thermos the empress had handed him.
Yet regardless of the taste, he simply didn’t feel like drinking it.
“The flavor of coffee really does change depending on the situation in which you drink it… I should keep that in mind for business planning.”
The building was completely empty.
He was an employer who followed labor laws to the letter.
Even on weekends, the only one who worked was the head of the trading company himself.
He had always worked without holidays, so weekend labor wasn’t unusual for him.
And yet, why did his mood feel so exceptionally heavy today?
“Is it because I met the empress…?”
Perhaps that viper-like woman really had slipped a mild poison into the coffee.
Taeyon chuckled at his own uncharacteristic fantasy.
He had no regrets about a life spent pursuing his goals.
As a royal and a grand duke, he understood well the weight of the crown he bore.
And yet, sometimes—
On weekends when others spent time with family or friends, and he found himself working alone like this—
He couldn’t help the strange sense of emptiness in his chest.
“Honestly. You really ought to start dating.”
After his mother, even Andreas had begun pressuring him.
He was well aware of the whispers circulating in society, wondering just how high the Grand Duke Roderick’s standards must be.
But he swore he wasn’t asking for much.
Even if others mocked him as naïve, he wanted—at least in marriage—to be with a woman who made his heart race.
Not a political, strategic marriage so common among nobles…
But maybe it’s time to give up…
Perhaps he would have to choose one woman from the countless portraits his mother offered and marry her.
It was then—
His sharp instincts, honed as an exceptional swordsman, sensed something.
He sprang up from the sofa with agile speed, despite having been sprawled out moments before.
At some point while he’d been lost in thought, a strange figure had approached and was now lingering by the building’s entrance.
Startled, Taeyon blurted out,
“…What is that?”
