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Chapter 54
Nine Breads. Shit is Shit, It Can’t Become Soybean Paste (4)
“Hastings, I need a word with you.”
“What is it, sir?”
A rather brazen reply came back.
Duke McClure, who had been trying to use Seth to summon Prince Marc, raised an eyebrow.
That brat, who always shrank before him like a frightened mouse, now had his eyes wide open and unflinching. It irked him. Yet Seth grinned even as he saw the duke’s face harden with cold displeasure.
“If it’s not urgent, let’s talk later. His Highness Marc is waiting for me.”
“You’ve grown quite arrogant. Is being reduced to a mere prince’s servant really something to boast about?”
“Are you really in a position to say that to me, Your Grace? Shouldn’t you be the one trying to stay on my good side?”
“You little….”
“You told me to know my place, didn’t you? I finally feel like my eyes are open now. Foolishly, I couldn’t see straight, bewitched by Elaine’s looks. But after staying by His Highness Marc’s side, I realized—why should I hang myself on some girl who’s nothing but a pretty face?”
“What did you say? How dare you speak of Elaine that way!”
“She’s just a bastard, isn’t she? What words are forbidden to the heir of House Hastings when it comes to a bastard?”
“Are you so sure you won’t regret saying that with your own mouth?”
At the icy threat, Seth rolled his eyes.
Watching how desperately Duke McClure wanted to meet him, Seth realized that he had a better weakness in his hands than he thought.
He’s scared I’ll blab to Prince Marc about her being a bastard, huh? Since we look like we’re pretty close these days.
After sticking around Marc, who could do anything at any time, the duke’s empty threats seemed laughable. Marc, being near him, was far more terrifying.
Elaine is just a woman, after all. There’s no need for me to throw away my pride clinging to her.
He had expected that the duke would object to the marriage and the engagement would collapse. But after staying at Marc’s side, Seth realized the duke’s wishes meant nothing.
Even if Duke McClure disliked Marc, how could he unilaterally break off the engagement? That meant Elaine was practically Marc’s possession already.
Seth didn’t have the courage to oppose Marc. And since no woman Marc had ever touched ended up unharmed, Seth easily severed his first love, his lingering regrets, and his obsession.
Of course, in his own mind, it wasn’t out of fear of Marc—rather, it was because he finally realized Elaine was nothing more than a piece of meat.
Like those people who died last night.
Marc could never sit still, not even for a day.
Even when visiting his brother’s villa, a place he feared the most, he complained he was suffocating, and ‘asked’ Seth to prepare the usual gift.
They only returned after lunch, and Marc had passed out again. Which meant Seth’s excuse that Marc was waiting was a lie.
“I don’t think I’ll regret it, actually.”
“…So your guts have spilled outside your body, huh. Fine. Do as you please. I’ll make you regret wagging that tongue, in hell.”
“You must’ve forgotten, but I’m not a bastard, Your Grace.”
“……”
“The House of Hastings is no lower in rank than House McClure. Watch your tongue.”
It felt exhilarating. Seth wanted to burst out laughing. The sight of Duke McClure struck dumb was not something often seen.
Seth snorted and was about to move on when he suddenly stopped, as if something occurred to him.
The duke, who had just been imagining the most painful way to tear Seth limb from limb, glared at him.
“Elaine won’t be attending tonight’s banquet, will she?”
“Can you say that after seeing how emaciated she is? If not for that damn bastard’s rampaging…”
“Careful with your words.”
Seth said it like he was humming a tune, grinning broadly.
“I see. If she’s unwell, she should rest, yes. But Your Grace must attend, of course. His Highness Marc is terribly worried that His Highness Damian might be offended.”
A mere pup, who could lose everything with a single puff of air, now drooling and barking because he’d been given a bone to guard—it was pathetic. Duke McClure ground his teeth.
The moment we return to Layad, you will fall into ruin.
She knew very well that everything was her fault.
Because she had been born, Ellie lost her mother and had to endure her father’s cold neglect all alone. Because she had begged for help, Franz had been killed. Elaine knew.
The cause was herself.
Because I was born.
Born as the fruit of a filthy relationship, ruining everything, and even dragging innocent people to their deaths.
“When I look at you, I can’t ignore it. It feels like my little brother might be wandering somewhere too.”
“You’re a genius! Are you really human?”
“At this rate, you’ll soon be stronger than me…. Still, don’t defy me. I’m your teacher, after all.”
She couldn’t stop thinking about that relaxed, smiling face. It drove her mad.
Elaine felt trapped in the day she saw Franz’s corpse. Time hadn’t moved since.
Her deepest regret was not being able to give him a proper funeral. The next day, her father was to return, and afraid that someone else would get caught up and die, she had hurriedly gathered the body and handed it over to the mercenary guild.
At the time, she thought that was the only option. Even now, it still seemed the right choice.
But still—she had wanted to hold a funeral for Franz. Though perhaps Franz himself would not have wanted it.
“Even if we meet by chance, let’s just pretend we don’t know each other. That’s the only thing I want from you.”
Even Ellie had said that much.
The injustice of Franz’s stolen life was beyond words.
And yet shamelessly, Elaine felt that even if he had hated being tangled up with her, if she didn’t vent this sorrow and rage somehow, she would suffocate to death. She couldn’t just sit still.
When she had thought her father was the culprit, it had been the same. His desperate plea for her to swallow it down made her sick—she felt she would vomit on an empty stomach. But she hadn’t dared ask, because she lacked the courage to confirm if her father really had killed Franz.
But her father wasn’t the culprit. Knowing that and feeling relief only made her feel more like trash.
The culprit could only be Seth Hastings.
Elaine resolved to avenge Franz.
“Being on the same team means we’ll never abandon each other, no matter what. If you’re in danger, I’ll save you. And if I’m in danger… well, I’ll handle it myself. I’ve only got one life, and I can’t trust a chick like you with it.”
Franz, I’m still on your team.
Elaine wrote a note and left it in Seth’s room.
Since childhood, Seth had always demanded “rewards” and “compensation,” like kisses or lingering touches on her hand, as if it were a game. So she expected he’d rush over at once. But he didn’t come.
It seemed he hadn’t even gone into his room last night. Lately he reeked of that nauseating stench from hanging around her so-called fiancé, Prince Marc.
The note was simple:
Seth. Help me. Prince Marc terrifies me. I don’t want to marry him. I’m scared of leaving the Kingdom of Rosso and going to the Empire of Yan. You’re the only one who can save me. If we become lovers before the wedding, Father can’t oppose it. And if Prince Marc knows I’ve long been the lover of a trusted friend, he’ll generously break the engagement. Please, help me. I beg you.
If he so much as saw the note, Seth would definitely come knocking.
In the dark room, Elaine imagined over and over stabbing him.
Then, this morning, she recalled the man she had seen in the garden outside her window.
Commander Ban of the Badger Knights.
His short hair gleamed like sunlight. He seemed surprised too, frowning at the sight of her. That meant she must look utterly miserable.
That angelically handsome man had always looked at her with cold eyes. The eyes of a stern judge, as if to make her realize just how filthy her existence was.
Even when his lips smiled, his green eyes were cold.
At first, she had resented and raged at that. But now, she thought it only natural. He knew Ellie, and he knew who Elaine was.
If he was here, then maybe Ellie too… no. I mustn’t look for her. I mustn’t even think about it. From now on, I’ll never cause Ellie any trouble again.
Her only regret was not being able to say those words to her directly.
