WHCP 25

Chapter 25.

But no matter how far she let her imagination run, it was impossible to gauge the extent of Aletheia’s mind-reading ability. In the meantime, fortunately, Aletheia’s condition visibly improved.

“Are you feeling a bit better now?”

“…Yeah.”

Aletheia let out a weak breath and looked at Mio.

“Don’t worry. Once we arrive, I’ll stay right by your side. Then there won’t be any problems.”

“Ah, y-yes….”

Right. Well, if he stayed glued to her side, it would be easier to witness any villainess patterns anyway. Since things were improving, Mio didn’t want to say anything unnecessary to an unwell Aletheia.

‘But if he’s this much better, shouldn’t I let go of his hand?’

At a banquet hall with lots of eyes watching, it would be one thing, but holding hands the entire time even inside the carriage was still awkward. Besides, he seemed to be feeling better now.

Feeling warmth returning to his once-cold fingertips, Mio felt a bit embarrassed about how much she had been rubbing someone else’s hand just moments ago.

‘It should be okay to let go now….’

Thinking that, Mio loosened her grip slightly—only for Aletheia to readjust his hold and clasp her hand again. The meaning was clear: don’t let go. And so, until they arrived at the banquet hall, Mio had no choice but to remain awkwardly trapped in Aletheia’s hand, to the point where she was even conscious of her own breathing, all because of something as trivial as holding hands.

“Oh my, that dress is….”

As soon as they arrived at the banquet hall, Mio could feel people here and there recognizing Caleb’s dress. But perhaps because Aletheia was right beside her, there was none of the blatant muttering she was used to.

‘Heh. There are upsides to having Aletheia stuck to my side.’

Mio ignored the whispers as she was accustomed to and moved forward. Since it had come to this, it seemed best to quickly take care of whatever villainess business she needed to do and leave. Aletheia wasn’t feeling well, after all.

As Mio bustled ahead, Aletheia spoke from her side.

“Mio. Why are you in such a hurry?”

Why indeed. Because of you. Instead of saying that, Mio used Caleb as an excuse.

“Caleb went out of his way to send the invitation and the dress. I want to thank him.”

“…I’m fine, so take your time.”

Worried that Mio, who was practically running, might trip, Aletheia grabbed her to slow her down. Since one of her hands was still being held, Mio had no choice but to slow her pace, like a dog on a leash during a walk.

Just as she took another frustratingly slow step, someone blocked Mio and Aletheia’s path.

“O, oh! Lady Mio!”

“…Count Duon?”

“Thank you! Thank you so much, Lady Mio!”

What was with the sudden thanks? And hadn’t Count Duon been arrested for smuggling?

It was an unexpected appearance in many ways. Fortunately, Count Duon began explaining the situation on his own.

“You spoke well of me to Lady Aletheia and got me out, didn’t you? I’m truly a lucky man. This is the benefit of having built a connection with you, Lady Mio. Hahaha!”

He repeatedly bowed deeply, saying how grateful he was to Aletheia as well, who was standing beside her. Considering his usually rather lecherous disposition, this was an extraordinary display of gratitude. The only question was how much the amnesiac Aletheia could understand.

‘Come to think of it, Aletheia lost his memory after Count Duon was arrested.’

He’d said he would personally investigate and all that—did he get released in the meantime by sheer luck?

For both Mio and Count Duon, the smuggling case being quietly swept under the rug was not a bad outcome. Though Count Duon had been the one arrested, Mio was involved in his smuggling business as well. It was better for it to be treated as if it never happened.

Count Duon extended his hand for a handshake and said,

“Lady Aletheia, we greeted each other at the shop last time, didn’t we? Allow me to formally introduce myself again. I am Baphomel Duon.”

“…….”

But of all things, why reach out for a handshake toward the hand she was holding so tightly, like affectionate lovers?

Mio felt Aletheia lower his gaze and quietly look at the hand Count Duon had extended. She felt awkward for a moment.

‘Oh dear, this is going to be embarrassing for Count Duon.’

Perhaps because they had even been business partners at one point, Mio found herself oddly concerned about Count Duon’s impending embarrassment and was about to signal for him to offer his other hand.

“…A pleasure.”

To her surprise, Aletheia released Mio’s hand first and shook Count Duon’s. Mio looked up at him in surprise. With a blank expression, Aletheia addressed the count.

“Are you… close with my fiancée?”

“Oh my, of course! Of course we are. Very close indeed. Isn’t that right, Lady Mio?”

With the arrow suddenly turned toward her, Mio answered awkwardly.

“Ah, yeah. Well… I suppose.”

“If I’d known this would happen, I would’ve treated His Grace much better that day! It’s embarrassing to admit, but I only heard about your engagement quite late, since I was released from prison not long ago.”

Count Duon said excitedly. Mio frowned slightly. Something about this didn’t quite add up. She had assumed that the reason the count acted as though he knew Aletheia was because they’d met when he was dragged off to prison—but was that not the case?

Looking back and forth between Aletheia and the count, Mio asked,

“But what do you mean by ‘that day’? Did the two of you meet separately?”

“Oh! Have I not told you yet? Oh no!”

The count clapped a hand over his mouth as if he’d made a slip of the tongue, glanced around nervously, and then hurriedly disappeared. What on earth was that about?

Now there was only one person who could give her an answer: Aletheia. But Aletheia’s expression was strange. Just like when they were in the carriage earlier, all the color had drained from his face, and he looked as precarious as someone about to collapse…

“Ugh….”

Sure enough, Aletheia clutched his forehead and let out a groan. Mio quickly grabbed his hand, but it was already too late—or perhaps it did no good. Aletheia merely lowered his head, groaning in even greater pain than before.

‘Damn it, what do I do?! At this rate, he’s going to collapse right in the middle of the banquet hall!’

The worry she’d had about something happening while dragging around someone unwell had just become reality. What an icon of misfortune!

When she hurriedly looked around, she spotted Count Duon—who had fled earlier—watching them with a curious expression, as if wondering what was going on. Mio gestured for him to come over.

“W-what is it?” he stammered as he rushed over.

“Let’s go to the lounge first! Support him! Count!”

“What?! Me?!” Count Duon exclaimed in surprise.

Mio tilted her head at him as if to say, Then am I supposed to move this big man alone?

In the end, the count carefully supported Aletheia. Whether his condition was truly that bad or not, Aletheia allowed himself to be led obediently all the way to the lounge.

After laying Aletheia down with a grunt, Count Duon panted and whispered,

“Whew. What on earth is going on, Lady Mio?”

“…He’s just not feeling very well.”

Mio rubbed Aletheia’s forehead and cheek roughly. With his eyes closed, Aletheia let out a faint groan at her touch.

‘He hasn’t come to his senses yet.’

Coming out today was really a bad choice. As Mio looked down at Aletheia with a heavy heart, Count Duon seized the moment to whisper,

“Well, you see—His Grace stopped by our shop recently to buy a gift for his fiancée. So I recommended a whole bunch of items we had in stock, and he said he’d buy every single thing I showed him. If I’d known that fiancée was you, Lady Mio, I would’ve jacked up the prices a bit and shared the profits with you. Hohoho.”

Hearing that much, Mio clamped a hand over Count Duon’s mouth.

To think the lunatic who’d overcharged Aletheia was Count Duon of all people. Then again, he was the kind of man deranged enough to go into business with Mio, who was infamous as a villainess.

“…What kind of thanks is overcharging someone? You were just thanking me earlier for getting you released.”

“Overcharging? I didn’t take a single extra coin. I charged nothing but fair prices. And the atmosphere was so different that I only realized later that he was the Grand Duke.”

Straightening his shoulders proudly, Count Duon insisted that what he’d said earlier was merely a wish—that he should have overcharged him.

“Either way, you made him buy a bunch of useless things. If that’s not overcharging, what is?”

“Hmph. It was nothing more than legitimate sales technique.”