🔊 TTS Settings
Episode 8
“Answer me, Princess.”
Lancelot urged in a languid but tense voice.
“You know I’m holding back a lot right now.”
‘…Alright, let’s start by clearing up this misunderstanding.’
I quickly accepted reality.
Given the circumstances, it was understandable to misunderstand. I get it.
“This child is just that—my child.”
As soon as I said it, it somehow felt like a line straight out of a sordid melodrama.
“Mary.”
“It has nothing to do with you.”
“Why doesn’t it have anything to do with me?”
“Because it’s not your child.”
“Not my child?”
Lancelot asked back with a hollow laugh. He seemed utterly unwilling to believe it.
I presented a logical reason to the man who seemed to have misunderstood things to an insane degree.
“This child can’t even crawl yet. It doesn’t make sense chronologically, don’t you think?”
After all, we had both remained chaste for over a year.
So it couldn’t possibly be our child. I was merely stating a fact that should have been obvious to the two of us involved.
“…Right. Now that you mention it, that’s true.”
Lancelot’s eyes, which seemed to be calculating the timing, changed.
As if he had realized something.
“Thinking about it that way, there’s no way it could be my child…”
His previously controlled voice quickened.
His eyes grew distant, his speech pattern oddly disjointed.
He had reached the limit of his patience, and was even smiling because of it.
“Then whose child is it?”
“…What?”
“Let’s hear it. It seems like a lot has changed besides the Princess becoming even more beautiful while I wasn’t looking. What happened during that one year?”
Whose child did you have, other than mine?
“Who is it? Tell me, Mary. I’ll kill him right now.”
“…”
I had hoped to quickly clear up the misunderstanding and draw a line, but it seemed the situation had only become more tangled.
‘How on earth am I supposed to talk my way out of this?’
I could understand Lancelot’s persistence, though.
If I had given birth to another man’s child based on the timing, then it meant I had cheated.
But…
“Tell me honestly. It’s okay. It’s not like I could ever do anything to you, right?”
I couldn’t possibly reveal the truth of this matter now.
‘…Right, what wouldn’t I do to protect my own child?’
I was Pippi’s only aunt.
Someone who had broken up with me and become a stranger wasn’t my top priority.
I was sorry, but right now, nothing was more important to me than my sister’s request.
“Why, did you think I couldn’t possibly see anyone else but you?”
It was true. I hadn’t seen anyone else.
Not in this life or my previous one.
Yet, as I brazenly pretended, a corner of my heart throbbed with pain.
“Our Princess always so noticeably changes the subject when she can’t answer a question.”
Lancelot replied quietly, in a gentle tone. …This bastard’s tone gets the prettiest when he’s gone crazy.
“If you’re not trying to be cute by playing hard to get, how about answering the question first?”
“…It was a one-night stand. I don’t even know who he was.”
“Then I’ll just have to bury all the bastards hanging around you.”
“…”
“So answer carefully. Depending on your answer, someone’s life is going to get pretty difficult.”
It was an indirect yet clear threat.
“Now, I’ll ask again. Whose child is it?”
The persistent questioning continued.
I kept my lips tightly shut, but eventually let out a weary sigh.
‘Before this drags on and I get caught…’
I needed to smooth things over.
Besides, it’s only natural that a long conversation with an ex-boyfriend leads to no good, isn’t it?
To kick this bastard out for now…
“…I’m sorry it turned out like this.”
I changed my attitude in the blink of an eye.
Dramatically covering my face with both hands.
“But I really have nothing to say to you.”
“Mary Blinn.”
“I’m so confused right now too…”
My apology was sincere. But now, wrap it up and get out, you bastard.
“…”
Whether my acting worked or not, the smile vanished from Lancelot’s face.
Lancelot was the type where the gap between when he smiled and when he didn’t was quite large.
I shuddered involuntarily at the unfamiliarity of a familiar face and observed Lancelot’s appearance.
A pristine white naval uniform adorned with several medals.
And his silver hair, completely disheveled, a stark contrast to his neat attire.
‘…Did he come running as soon as he heard the news?’
Just as that thought crossed my mind.
Crack—.
A crack appeared on the armrest of the sofa.
“…”
Is that even possible?
“Yeah. I know I’m not in my right mind right now either…”
The madman who had just shattered the sofa armrest with one hand slowly stood up.
“I’m giving you time because I want you to calm down and give me a careful answer, understand?”
He seemed to have barely managed to exercise patience, paid for with the life of the sofa armrest.
“I think I need to assess the situation a bit more too…”
Lancelot scrutinized my face with a sharp gaze, then disappeared in an instant.
Only after I confirmed through the window that Lancelot had reached the front gate could I relax my tension.
It seemed the situation had become as tangled as it possibly could.
***
That night.
After eating sweet soup and rinsing my mouth with fragrant powdered toothpaste, my anxious feelings subsided a little.
I tapped the newspaper idly with a bored expression.
‘It seems like Mr. Chooses-the-Wrong-Profession won’t be contacting me for a while.’
As for Lancelot… I don’t know. If we meet again, I should make him pay for breaking the sofa.
It was a high-end crocodile leather sofa I bought to commemorate last year’s peak sales.
“Miss.”
Just then, Marsha approached briskly.
“I went and found out a bit about that Alan guy.”
Since he didn’t seem like he’d give up easily, I had ordered a background check, and it seemed she had already looked into it.
“That man was easy to investigate because he’s been stirring things up everywhere lately anyway.”
Alan Cordin.
The son of a viscount, and reportedly the prospective son-in-law of the Marquis White.
‘So he really did have solid backing.’
The funny thing was that the Marquis White family itself was already connected to me.
The boutique ‘Anne White,’ owned by the Marquis family, was a rival of Piazza Lux.
And it was also run by Judith White, my academy classmate.
The person Alan was to marry was the younger sister, Selena.
Apparently, the stubborn Marquis did not readily accept the viscount’s son as a son-in-law, but Selena, who loved Alan too much, even went on a hunger strike.
“What on earth does she see in a man like that?”
I muttered, then realized I wasn’t in a position to disparage anyone’s taste in men and shut my mouth.
‘Well, anyway.’
After hearing that, what happened during the day made sense.
Someone with such a rapid rise in status right before their eyes can’t be expected to maintain their reason.
“Marsha, could you find me the letter sent by the president of the Unbelievable Times?”
I gestured towards the pile of letters on the table.
They were letters from people who had waited a year for the celebrity’s return.
“Even that president sent a letter?”
“Well, I haven’t looked, but probably?”
From a quick glance, it seemed like almost every newspaper had sent a letter.
And as if to prove this wasn’t unfounded confidence, Marsha found the letter.
[ Greetings, My Lady.
While going about an ordinary day, I received the unfortunate news that you had left the capital.
(…)
Hoping that you, who will one day return, will first share your recent news with us.
Karl Versoix, President of ‘Unbelievable Times’. ]
Just as I thought, he had sent the letter because he wanted something. This makes things easier.
I wrote a reply to Karl.
[ Dear Mr. Bersuwa.
(…)
I wish I could bring you good news, but I’m afraid that will be difficult.
Today, Mr. Cordon came to ask if my child was truly mine.
He said he was sorry, but the wound is too deep. Now, just seeing anything related to that journalist pains my heart.
So, I hope you can understand the circumstances that force me to refuse your kind offer.
Mary Blinn. ]
With a face devoid of emotion, contrasting with the heartfelt content, I stamped the seal.
‘With this, I should be able to prevent any unfortunate incidents of that bastard Alan snooping around my child.’
Since it’s an accredited newspaper, I’ll have many occasions to use them in the future, so I can’t completely fall out with them. This kind of content seemed just right.
“Oh, and Marsha.”
After handing her the letter, I patted the seat next to me.
“Before you go to send the letter, sit down for a moment.”
Marsha tilted her head but obediently sat beside me.
“I’ve been thinking about something. About Mari unni.”
More precisely, about the trump card that would reveal the truth of my sister’s death.
