VWTI 17

Chapter 17

“Raymond, could you please do something about that expression? You think I’m enjoying this?”

“Then whose fault is it that we’re in this situation? Ha, I bet you were being stubborn with Duke Martur again.”

“How many times do I have to say that’s not it—? Ugh, forget it. Talking to you is less productive than cheering for that ant crawling over there.”

The moment I said that sarcastically, I felt his arm—still crossed—tighten.

Raymond, all useless muscles, gripped my arm hard enough that I couldn’t hold back a yelp.

“Ah! That hurts!”

“As I always say, Martur, you’re terrible at finishing what you start. I almost actually fell for it this time.”

“What? What kind of nonsense are you spouting now?”

“You spouted all that crap just to get my attention, and in the end you went crying to the Duke so he’d force me to stay by your side. Look at you—were you that jealous of Stella that you had to stoop that low?”

“Wow, I’m going to lose my mind.”

He didn’t seem to like my exasperated reaction, because his grip tightened again.

For some reason, there was something desperate in his expression—something I’d never seen before.

As if he really didn’t want my words to be true.

But that flicker of emotion disappeared as quickly as it came, leaving me unsure if I’d imagined it.

‘…I must’ve been seeing things. Yeah, no way.’

I brushed off the uneasy feeling, lowered my voice so only he could hear, and hissed near his ear:

“Raymond, let me make this clear. You and I are completely over. This whole act is just something my father ordered until I find a new fiancé, got it?”

He opened his mouth to reply—

“Lady Martur, it’s been so long!”

“Ah, Madam! Yes, it has been a while.”

“I’m so relieved to see you looking well.”

Meaningless pleasantries were exchanged before the Madam’s gaze flicked toward Raymond.

She clearly wanted me to introduce him.

‘Ah, so Madam hasn’t met Raymond before.’

Raymond had refused nearly every party invite to avoid me, attending only those hosted by the royal family—the ones he couldn’t decline.

And since “Yevgenia” (my past self) had always clung to him at parties, refusing to let anyone approach, there were very few who’d ever spoken to him directly.

So naturally, even a noblewoman as prominent as Madam Highnoon was curious enough to take her chance now.

‘Though the real reason is probably that I’m not pushing people away anymore.’

No matter how much I’d said I’d changed, actions spoke louder than words.

After studying Madam briefly, I smiled as pleasantly as I could and nudged Raymond forward a little.

“Madam, this is Lord Raymond Larson, the second son of House Larson. And Raymond, this is Madam Jane Highnoon, Countess of Highnoon and our gracious hostess today.”

Raymond’s expression instantly transformed into polite charm as he took the Madam’s hand and brushed it lightly with his lips.

Madam returned the gesture gracefully, though I could feel her glancing at me for approval. I gave a pointed little nod as if to say, Go ahead, I don’t mind.

While she was distracted, I quickly slipped my arm free from Raymond’s.

“Raymond, I’m going to step into the lounge for a bit.”

I kept a faint, polite smile on my face until the doors to the ballroom closed behind me.

“Ugh, I thought my cheeks were going to cramp from smiling so long.”

Rubbing my stiff face, I headed toward the lounge—only to hear high-pitched giggles from inside.

Judging by the voices, it was a group of young noble ladies.

‘What are the odds they don’t scream when I walk in?’

The thought made me hesitate briefly, but I desperately needed a break.

They’d survive a little fright.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door.

“So I was saying—huh?”

“What’s wrong? …Eek!”

The moment I entered, silence crashed over the room like a wave.

The girls’ faces went pale, some freezing with their mouths open as if they might faint.

Seeing them like that made me reflect—again—on my past behavior.

This time, instead of throwing a tantrum like the old me, I simply walked in quietly.

That alone was enough to make the young ladies scatter like soldiers obeying an urgent command.

Within five seconds, the lounge was mine.

“Should I be happy about this… or not?”

I collapsed onto a velvet sofa, brushing my messy hair back.

“Haa… I really didn’t think Father would go this far.”

It had been nearly two weeks since my suffocating “partnership” with Raymond began—the day after I begged Father to cancel the engagement.

It was, of course, his order.

If my name being erased was part of a royal plot, then the Imperial Family might try to snatch me up for marriage—so Father wanted to shape public opinion first.

‘The Crown Prince married two years ago, so that leaves the Second Prince… Yulan.’

I couldn’t tell whether Father knew the truth about Yulan—whether he was the cold, dangerous man I’d seen, or really the frail, dying prince people thought he was.

Either way, he was not someone my father would easily approve of as a husband for me.

“And yet, marrying anyone other than Raymond is impossible right now—since I can’t reveal my erased name…”

Damn it. I had to admit it.

My clever little plan had completely failed.

Even if the engagement with Raymond fell apart, it would take years to recover from the fallout.

But both Raymond and I were already past the usual marrying age.

In fact, for nobles who’d been unofficially engaged since childhood, we were already late.

In the original story, “Yevgenia” had lost her mind long before this point, causing such a scandal in the capital that her engagement and punishment were over almost instantly.

“But still… something about all this doesn’t make sense.”

Nox—Yulan’s true identity—was such perfect material for a protagonist or a major supporting role.

Yet in the novel, at least in the version I remembered, there had been no mention of who he really was.

No matter how hard I searched my memory, there was nothing.

As I pressed my aching forehead, trying to calm the headache rising behind my eyes—

Creek—

“…Ah.”

The door to the lounge opened, revealing a very familiar voice—and a very familiar face.

I lowered my hand from my temple and nodded slightly.

“It’s been a while, Lady Aer.”

“L-Lady Martur, please, listen to me! I swear I didn’t know you were here…”

“Yes, of course. Don’t mind me—use the lounge as you please.”

I waved dismissively at Stella, who was trembling like a startled squirrel, stammering over her words.

I had no intention of bullying her—or even talking to her.

I just wanted us to coexist like total strangers—which, frankly, we were.

At least here, I wanted that much.

But for some reason, Stella didn’t just leave it alone. She kept babbling.

“I-I wouldn’t dare… Ah, please don’t misunderstand, I truly didn’t know Lady Martur would attend this party! It’s just that Raymond said he wanted to see me for a moment, and so—”

“Yes, yes, whatever. Go ahead and rest here, then head back to the ballroom and have a lovely time with Raymond.”

“E-excuse me? Lady Martur, what do you mean—”

“Whether you two share glances, feelings, or bodily fluids—it’s none of my business. Do whatever you want, just please leave me out of it, alright?”

Oops. The irritation slipped into my voice before I could stop it.

Still, I deserved some credit for holding back as much as I had.

If the obstacle’s gone, shouldn’t the lovebirds just go be happy? Why keep dragging the obstacle back into your way?

If I were the obstacle, I’d be furious too.

“You know what, forget it. I’ll just leave. Stay as long as you like, okay? Sorry for raising my voice…”

I shook my head and stood up.

From experience, being in the same room as Stella was a trap waiting to happen.

No matter what did or didn’t happen, she’d end up crying—and somehow, I’d be the villain again.

Of course, that had been Yevgenia’s fault, but still—what did I ever do?

I sighed deeply and moved to pass her on my way out—

“L-Lady Martur, I’m sorry! It’s just that Ray-Ray missed me so much, and I missed him too—I couldn’t stop myself! Please, don’t do anything to him!”

The nonsense pouring from her mouth was endless. I turned, almost against my will—and then froze.

Because for a split second, I saw it.

‘No way. Did she just… smile?’