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Chapter 80
“Now, don’t joke around. I’m not in the mood for these ridiculous little games with you.”
It was a firm denial, full of certainty.
Yet, seeing Patrick arch his eyebrows and smile as if pitying her, Laurazné was taken aback.
“This is impossible! What about me? I even took poison for you and ended up like this! What am I supposed to do?!”
“There you go again, Rose. I’ve told you countless times. Don’t get so worked up first. Calm down and try to have a rational conversation.”
“Even in this situation, you’re trying to lecture me? Hah! You, you dare play me for a fool?”
“Play you for a fool? Where did you learn that kind of thing? From some back-alley street punk?”
Patrick frowned at the rough, dry texture of Laurazné’s skin as he made her sit in a chair.
“Do you think I enjoy this situation? But what could I do? The Empress suddenly proposed a marriage with that family. Some noble must have urged Her Majesty, and I was just as taken aback as anyone.”
“If it’s that inconvenient, you could just refuse, couldn’t you?”
“Hm…”
His beautiful eyes rolled, thoughtful.
“How could I refuse a request from the Empress herself, Rose?”
“Hah? Hahaha! Kya-haha!”
Laurazné let out a strange, incredulous laugh, so exasperated she was at a loss for words. Was there anyone more infuriating than this man?
“Do you think you’re sitting in this room because of the Empress alone? All those naive, obedient fools on the streets praising you—do you know why? Because of me! Because of Laurazné!”
Laurazné ground her teeth.
A nobleman with a steadfast, devoted love caring for his sick lover. That one image alone had swayed public opinion, and then what?
Even when her treasured shoe heels had broken, she had thought at least someone might have shown more courtesy than this.
“Do you think you can maintain that position without me? Public opinion can turn in an instant! You claim to love me, yet you treat me like this?”
“More innocent than I thought, our Rose,” Patrick said, mockingly widening his eyes.
“Love? That was just formal words between you and me, wasn’t it?”
“Huh?”
“We got together because our interests aligned, didn’t we? I needed a partner from a respectable family to support me, and you needed the title of Duchess. Isn’t that right?”
Patrick leaned forward slightly. His glasses jingled over his cheekbones.
“You thought I wouldn’t notice, Rose. You tried to get close to my brother first, and when that didn’t work, you came to me.”
“When did you…?”
“What does it matter? Anyway, thanks for the effort you made for me. But now, it’s time we parted ways. My interests and yours, Rose, are starting to diverge. For a Duchess, you need at least a Marquess family, not a Count’s, right?”
Seeing Patrick still smiling so sweetly at a moment like this, Laurazné let out a hollow laugh.
“You’re trash.”
“What? That’s all? Thanks for the compliment.”
“If I had known, I wouldn’t have treated that girl, Letrisha, so harshly. I didn’t expect my actions to come back at me like this.”
Laurazné gathered her bag and stood.
“Fine. Go ahead and do things your way. But I can’t even pretend to congratulate you on your marriage.”
“Leaving? Ah, wait a moment.”
Patrick turned toward the dresser occupying one side of the wall, covered with a tapestry.
Bending low, he rattled around in the lowest drawer, searching for something.
Laurazné could have just stormed out, but a faint hope prevented her, and she stood silently, trembling with shame.
Then her eyes caught something lodged deep in a groove at the corner of the desk once used by Duke Godwin.
“What are you doing?”
“Ah, nothing!”
Laurazné quickly hid her bulging hand behind her back, suppressing a sneer threatening to escape.
“…Here. Take this. A parting gift. You’ll need the antidote.”
Seeing the glass bottle he offered with an air of magnanimity, Laurazné burst out laughing and snatched it, scratching the back of Patrick’s hand.
“Thanks a lot. Yeah, you arrogant, foolish bastard. Fine, I’ll go up there. I don’t know if that lowly blood running in you will be diluted by it, though.”
Patrick’s facial muscles twitched at the provocative remark.
Laughing at him as much as she could, Laurazné tore off her veiled hat and turned to leave.
Patrick, observing her retreat for a few seconds as if out of courtesy, soon calmed down and hummed to himself as he reopened a gossip magazine.
Yes, it’s the last time. I can let such harsh words slide.
The gossip magazine prominently displayed Letrisha’s portrait. Next to her, Kilian’s portrait appeared as well, but Patrick subtly hid Kilian’s face with his thumb.
In the magazine’s typical cluttered handwriting, Letrisha’s activities were listed, from antidotes to the latest fairy tales.
The new Duchess, said to have brought a spring breeze to the north, or something like that.
Patrick pursed his lips while reading the embarrassingly bold comments placed right in front of him.
“What a waste.”
If only I knew she had such talents, I might have kept her closer.
Feeling a pang of jealousy, Patrick rubbed his stomach, then looked up.
A lingering gaze met him: Laurazné was still standing at the doorway.
Holding the hat, a clump of hair in her hand, Laurazné somehow looked quite pleased.
“Why are you lingering there instead of leaving?”
Patrick waved awkwardly, and Laurazné waved back in response.
Then she finally disappeared from view.
Thinking she was more obedient than expected, Patrick closed the gossip magazine and opened a portrait of the Marchioness Fernado.
Even if not as stunning as Letrisha or Laurazné, she was still an exceptional beauty.
While Patrick sighed in satisfaction, imagining an ideal married life, Laurazné stopped in the hallway, looking at her hand.
When she opened it, a glimmering emerald brooch appeared.
“Looks like the Duke never taught you that betrayal is bad, huh?”
Laurazné kissed the brooch borrowed by Peter from the Duke before his death.
“Then I guess I’ll have to teach you, won’t I, Patrick?”
“Just as expected, Her Majesty the Empress intends to unite Patrick with the Fernado family. Seems straightforward,” Peter said, elegantly cutting a potato in half.
Because he complained that eating alone was too lonely, everyone had gathered at the dining table.
“Since there was a noble meeting today, Laurazné probably heard the news too. I wonder how things will go between them.”
Neither the Empress nor Patrick had the slightest clue.
The noble who recommended the Fernado family and even the Marchioness herself were all influenced by Peter. Of course, it all started with Letrisha’s suggestion.
“If it were Patrick, he would have definitely chosen the Marchioness, not Laurazné.”
Everyone around the table agreed with Letrisha.
Rumors had begun spreading that the recent epidemic originated from Duke Godwin’s household, confirming that Laurazné and Patrick had clearly fallen out.
“That’s right!”
Peter, chewing his potato, clapped his hands suddenly.
“Come to think of it, even without an autopsy, there might be another way to determine my father’s cause of death.”
“What is that?”
“The day Patrick came to the mansion, my father borrowed a brooch from me. You know, the one with the recording function. I thought he just wanted to scold Patrick at the time, but perhaps it recorded the situation as well.”
“It wasn’t in the evidence list. Does the Young Duke still have it?”
“Hmm… unfortunately, no. I don’t remember getting it back.”
Under everyone’s gaze, Peter sheepishly pursed his lips.
“Still, unless the brooch has legs, it must be somewhere in the Duke’s mansion. Haha.”
“……”
“I’ll check it out tomorrow.”
“No need. A search order must have been issued.”
“I can do it without being noticed. I have more tricks up my sleeve than people think.”
Peter whispered conspiratorially, putting a hand to his mouth.
“I’m actually a magician. Staying unnoticed is easy for me.”
Kilian raised his eyebrows, and Justin snorted.
“You mean that tiny bit of magic? I didn’t know that counted as being a magician.”
“I had only a little when I was younger, but I’ve grown since, Master.”
“Magic doesn’t just stretch like a rubber band, does it?”
“There are exceptions in life, right?”
Peter smiled sweetly. Justin continued to glare at him, still displeased.
‘A magician… Peter Godwin?’
Kilian also fell into deep thought.
With everyone’s attention on Peter, Letrisha quietly set down her plate unnoticed. Even with her request for a small serving, most of her food remained untouched.
