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Chapter 47
As expected, if it was Vivian Shartera, she would immediately deduce who the culprit was.
Ian forced down his impatience and asked in a calm voice.
“Do you have any idea who’s behind this?”
“There’s no need for guesswork. Among the people Betty has recently met, there’s no one but Felix Shartera. Not long ago, after he called her over, he even asked if nothing had happened since then. Betty, how could you have hidden it so perfectly…?”
Vivian’s answer burst out before Ian had even finished his question. The hands resting on his knees tightened into fists.
Of course. He should have suspected Felix Shartera first.
The mistake was his own—he had overlooked the fact because Betty had never once mentioned any connection with him.
But if Betty was serving Vivian Shartera, how could she not end up encountering her brother?
How dare he…
A fire of fury began to burn inside Ian.
Across from him, Vivian paced back and forth anxiously, clearly flustered for different reasons.
“You should’ve told me about Betty first! This isn’t the time to stand around. Hurry, go. Find Betty, come up with whatever excuse you must, and take her away. I’ll handle the rest, so go—quickly!”
Suddenly, reproach and an order—though not quite an order—were hurled at him at once.
From her urgent command that he must take Betty away, Ian felt an ominous chill.
“…What exactly did that man do to the young lady for you to say this?”
The Felix Shartera Ian knew was a man who could do nothing without leaning on his father’s influence and his family’s standing.
Every time they met, Felix acted arrogantly, and though he resented having to bow his head to Ian, that was the extent of it.
Ian’s judgment of him had stopped there.
Felix was desperate to belittle him, but face-to-face with Ian Deiban himself, he had never even had the courage to insult his origins.
He was nothing more than another typical high noble.
Vivian, however, wore a bitter, mocking smile and spoke in a voice full of undisguised resentment.
“He’s a cowardly, base man who unleashes his pent-up fury on those who have no power to resist.”
So even if he was nothing but a petty, arrogant fool—perhaps because of that very pettiness—inside his own household, he seemed to act as if he were a prince of the realm.
It angered Ian to realize, only now, how naturally nobles dismissed those beneath them, not even treating them as fellow human beings.
That was explanation enough.
Ian grabbed the hilt of the sword at his waist, stood up, and left the room without looking back.
Kane, startled by the icy expression on his face, asked nervously.
“My lord, where are you going?”
“Did you see Betty when we came in?”
“Ah, the maid? Yes, I saw her earlier—she said the young master was calling her and followed someone.”
Ian had never visited the duke’s mansion before, but it was obvious where the young master’s office would be. Striding down the stairs, he gauged the layout of the floors and rooms.
“Where is Young Master Shartera’s office?”
The moment Ian’s frostbitten glare landed on a servant, the man flinched and hastily pointed down a hallway.
“A-at the end of this corridor, my lord.”
Ian’s hand tightened on his sword, nearly drawing it as he advanced.
“My lord, what is going on? At least tell me—”
“You. Don’t let anyone in here. Guard this place, no matter what happens.”
“…Understood, my lord.”
Kane, recognizing the uncompromising tone of a battlefield command, finally realized how dire the situation was. His face hardened into grim resolve.
Like Ian, he set a hand on his own sword hilt and began to stand watch.
Ian took a single steadying breath, then pushed open the tightly closed door and stepped inside.
And the sight that greeted him—
—was enough to make him draw his sword at last and point it straight at Felix Shartera.
Betty had been on edge from the moment the Grand Duke Deiban arrived at the ducal estate.
Not for any other reason, but because—as always—he came accompanied by Kane.
From the office window, Felix Shartera had been watching them with calm, unreadable eyes, and their gazes had locked.
Please… let nothing happen.
But his blue eyes glimmered ominously.
Even when Lady Vivian dismissed everyone so she could speak privately with the duke, Betty considered confessing to her mistress or the duke several times.
Yet she couldn’t. To do so would be to shift onto them a burden that was hers to bear and resolve.
And besides, what could they possibly do about Young Master Shartera, all on behalf of a mere maid like her?
“The young master is calling for you.”
This time, Betty managed to respond more calmly than before.
She took a deep breath, reached the office door, and turned the knob.
“Young master.”
“Betty.”
The way he said her name, as if they were close, made her skin crawl.
Still, she hid her discomfort and bowed politely.
“What are you standing there for? Come in.”
She hesitated only a step, but Felix seized her wrist roughly and yanked her closer.
“Come here, I said.”
As her sleeve rode up, the fading bruise on her wrist was revealed. Felix didn’t care whether it hurt or not.
In a low, menacing tone, he asked the question she had expected.
“Why is the duke here today?”
“I don’t know.”
“No. You do know. The duke wouldn’t suddenly show up without a reason. If Vivian’s maid doesn’t know, then who else would?”
If she faltered here, he would be convinced there was something to uncover and would hound her endlessly.
“I truly don’t know anything. Maybe His Grace has feelings for Lady Vivian.”
Her firm denial slipped out with an unintended hint of defiance.
But so what if the duke did have other motives?
If it led to Vivian reuniting with the duke, wouldn’t that even benefit the great Shartera family?
“The duke? Impossible. He can’t do that now. That would be far too merciful for Vivian Shartera.”
“Milady has the right to be happy.”
This time, her defiance was deliberate. The price came immediately.
Felix, eyes flashing with rage, wrapped a hand around her throat and squeezed.
His crushing grip made her choke for breath.
“Ugh…”
“Say it again. What? What rights does Vivian have?”
Clinging to consciousness, Betty shoved him with all her might.
“Kh—!”
By luck, she must have struck his solar plexus, because his grip weakened.
Betty tried to dash forward, but before she could take more than a few steps, he seized a fistful of her hair and yanked her back, throwing her to the floor.
“Aaah!”
Felix Shartera didn’t miss his chance—he shoved her down again as she struggled to rise.
“Even my patience has limits. How dare you.”
Breathing harshly, his eyes suddenly dropped to the floor. Betty followed his gaze.
Lying there was the necklace that should have been hanging at her throat—the precious gift from the duke, which she had tried so hard to protect.
“What’s this? Who gave you something like this?”
“That’s…”
Betty’s hand flew to her bare neck in shock, but Felix quickly stepped on the chain, preventing her from reclaiming it.
“It’s mine. Please move.”
The small emerald dangled precariously from the snapped end of the chain.
“You want it back? Then you’d better answer me properly.”
A fire of fury ignited in Betty’s chest. Who was he to use this to threaten her?
“I told you—I don’t know anything.”
“Still mouthing off…”
Felix jerked her arm roughly, about to menace her further—
When suddenly, the door burst open.
Black hair. Deep navy eyes. Someone Betty knew very well.
The storm of emotions in his gaze was unmistakable.
But Felix, even confronted by the duke himself, did not let go of her. Instead, he drawled lazily,
“Your Grace. What brings you here?”
He spoke as though Betty were nothing more than an object, as though she didn’t exist at all.
“Step aside.”
Ian’s face was expressionless, his voice calm, but the tip of his sword was leveled directly at Felix.
