Chapter 77
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 77
Evangeline seemed weary of walking around and catering to everyone. No matter how transcendent she was, dealing with so many humans at once was bound to be exhausting.
Finding this slightly amusing, Kinder smiled and nodded, only to freeze in shock at her own reaction. How… how could she smile on the very day her son had died? She felt like a monster. Trying to soothe her rising anxiety, she nervously toyed with the crystal flower in her hands.
“Are you tired as well, Madame Toten?”
“Oh? Yes… I suppose I am.”
Noticing Kinder’s distress, Evangeline gestured to a maid serving wine and picked up two glasses. She kept one for herself, slipped the other into Kinder’s hand, and clinked their glasses together. She then looked at Kinder expectantly, urging her to drink. Kinder hesitated for a moment before taking a sip. Once the rich, fruity aroma faded, a bitter acidity lingered on her tongue. Having never been fond of wine, the taste felt rather strange.
“Do you feel a bit better?”
“Yes. I can breathe a little easier now.”
Indeed, the alcohol seemed to take the edge off. Her heart, which had been pounding wildly as if she were standing on the edge of a cliff, finally began to settle.
Kinder handed her empty glass back to the maid. Strangely, unlike the other servants, this one had a scarf covering the lower half of her face. When Kinder stared in confusion, the maid simply drew an ‘X’ over her scarf with her fingers. It seemed she was mute and deliberately covering her mouth. Of all the servants in the banquet hall, she was the only one wearing such a scarf.
Taking the empty glass, the maid gave a slight bow and hurried away.
* * *
“Shall we rest for a moment?”
My legs were killing me. My throat was sore, and my facial muscles were cramping from forcing a smile for so long. Gabriel had said Madame Toten was highly respected, which was why he’d invited her to be my chaperone, and he wasn’t exaggerating. Every single person we passed seemed to be an acquaintance of hers, forcing me to greet them like a broken machine.
I don’t want to introduce myself anymore… I’m not even the real Evangeline, but I’ve said the name so many times that I’m starting to experience semantic satiation. Did Gabriel run off on his own knowing this would happen? No… he did have work to do. But he said he’d be right back! Where on earth is he?
“Are you tired as well, Madame Toten?”
Looking closely, it wasn't just me; Madame Toten looked exhausted, too. It made sense. She had been dragged out to be my chaperone without even getting to hold a proper funeral for her son. On top of that, she had to pretend he was perfectly fine to prevent the marquisate from falling into someone else’s hands if Ryder’s death was revealed. The mental strain must have been immense.
There was no way I was getting through this sober. Spotting a maid with wine nearby, I quickly grabbed a glass. I handed another to Madame Toten, clinked my glass against hers, and downed the alcohol in one go. Now this was what I call legal doping.
I handed the empty glass back and dismissed the maid with a polite nod. I’d noticed other nobles just carried their glasses around, but that was probably because they still had wine left. Since I’d downed mine in one shot, I guess she decided to collect it right away. The maid gave me a strange look. What, is this your first time seeing someone chug a glass of wine? Yeah, probably.
“Your scarf is very pretty.”
When in doubt, compliments are the best way to break the awkwardness. Apparently, the recipient didn’t think so. The moment she heard my words, her face contorted into a scowl before she quickly masked her expression, bowed, and hurried away. Even the maids in the Imperial Palace moved with such elegance.
“I guess she didn’t like my compliment.”
I suppose even a compliment from a villainess is unwelcome. That hurt my feelings a little.
“Well, I would love to hear one.”
A playful, sweet voice chimed in as an unfamiliar face suddenly popped up in front of me. Wavy blond hair cascaded down, shimmering under the light of the chandelier. As our eyes met, his cheeks and the corners of his eyes flushed a soft pink, and his eyes crinkled into a warm smile.
Whoa, whoa… Is this for real? Is that an actual human face? I thought Oratorio was a gorgeous man, but this guy was on a whole other level. Judging by his attire, he seemed to be a servant at the Imperial Palace, but it was almost absurd that a mere servant could be this ridiculously handsome.
“Please, feel free to shower me with compliments.”
Well, you are incredibly handsome. Fearing I might start fangirling out loud if I spoke, I just smiled back. The handsome servant waited for his compliment, and when I remained silent, his shoulders slumped in disappointment.
“Is my appearance not to your liking, by any chance?”
As if. His beauty was, without a doubt, in a realm that transcended personal preference.
“I like it.”
Only after hearing my brief reply did the handsome servant smile brightly, looking satisfied.
“I was worried, but what a relief. Ah, Lady Evangeline, you’ll drink the wine I brought for you too, right?”
But I just downed a glass. Yet, before I knew it, another glass of wine was sitting in my hand. I guess this is what people meant by being bewitched by a pretty face. The servant watched with a pleased expression as I brought the glass to my lips, then vanished as quickly as he had appeared, as if his job was done.
Feeling a bit tipsy after two glasses back-to-back, I scanned the crowd and my eyes suddenly locked with the Count’s. Frowning deeply, he repeatedly jabbed his finger in the direction of Duke Hosaquin.
Oh, please, old man. You don’t have to rush me; I’m going. Since we made a deal, I at least have to show him I’m making an effort to approach Duke Hosaquin.
“Madame Toten, how about we go greet my maternal grandfather now?”
It wasn’t because the Count was rushing me, absolutely not. It was just that there weren’t many people around Duke Hosaquin right now, making it the perfect time. Madame Toten nodded, seemingly agreeing with my assessment.
She suggested that instead of approaching Duke Hosaquin directly, it would be easier to strike up a conversation with the person he was with. The man currently glued to the Duke’s side was Viscount Hwikel, who was notorious for being a clueless busybody. Madame Toten explained that if we simply walked past them, the Viscount would undoubtedly call out to us.
“Well, look who it is! Marchioness Toten, it has been far too long!”
“Viscount Hwikel.”
Wow. Her calculation was spot on. Just as Madame Toten predicted, Viscount Hwikel stopped her as we passed. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know about the bad blood between Duke Hosaquin and me, but his desire to show off his connection to us—the center of attention at tonight’s banquet—clearly overrode any sense of caution. It was almost impressive.
Was he not feeling the laser beams of pure hatred Duke Hosaquin was shooting at him from right beside him?
“I was rather disappointed when I didn’t receive a reply to the invitation I sent you last week.”
“Oh dear, I don’t recall receiving any letter. My butler must have made a mistake. Had I seen your invitation, Viscount, I would have replied immediately. I shall scold him severely once I return, so please overlook it this once.”
“Haha, you, scolding your butler, Madame Toten? Your sense of humor has certainly improved!”
I don’t think she’s joking, though… That butler is currently locked in her basement…
“It is all thanks to spending time with the youth. Ah, this is Lady Rohanson, whom I am chaperoning.”
“It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Evangeline Rohan—”
Shatter!
Before I could even finish my introduction, the sound of shattering glass echoed through the hall. The culprit was glaringly obvious. His face flushed crimson, Duke Hosaquin gritted his teeth and glared at me with eyes full of rage.
He really, really hates me. Hey, Count… you never mentioned the difficulty level would be this high…
The sound had come from the Duke throwing his wine glass to the floor. Servants cautiously approached and began sweeping up the shards. Seeing them reminded me of the servants back at our mansion. It seemed Evangeline’s terrible personality was inherited straight from her grandfather.
“Ah, of course! You two are grandfather and granddaughter, aren’t you!”
And Viscount Hwikel wasn’t just clueless; his situational awareness was practically in the negatives. He had been grinning like an idiot, but upon receiving Duke Hosaquin’s murderous glare, he finally read the room. Letting out a sudden hiccup, he scrambled to make his escape.
“I-I believe I have had a bit too much wine, so please excuse me…!”
Subduing an opponent with a single glare—he was indeed the grandfather of a villainess.
Viscount Hwikel had fled, but I had achieved my goal. It was enough that the Count saw me approaching Duke Hosaquin.
Now, here was the real problem. If I made one wrong move, I might trigger a “family regret” route where Duke Hosaquin suddenly starts doting on his granddaughter and leaves me his inheritance. Count Rohanson wanted that inheritance desperately, and there was no way in hell I was going to let him have his way.
In typical family regret stories, the cold family members eventually soften up because the protagonist keeps smiling brightly and acting affectionate despite their coldness. So, I just had to do the exact opposite, right? I would make it glaringly obvious that I had an ulterior motive, and I wouldn’t smile at him at all.
“Maternal Grandfather, it is a pleasure to meet you for the first time.”
Wait, was this actually our first time meeting? I recalled that the late Countess had cut ties with him after her marriage. Well, even if it wasn’t, I still had my trump card: amnesia.
“Who are you calling your grandfather?!”
“I see. So you no longer even consider my mother to be your daughter, Your Grace?”
As if. From what I could tell, Duke Hosaquin was a classic patriarchal tsundere. He probably wanted to be kind to his daughter, but because he only ever roared at her, he was likely drowning in regret and lingering attachment by now. Proving my theory correct, the Duke fell silent, as if I had struck a nerve.
“You are cruel. Mother always missed her father.”
“…Amaranth did?”
Ah, his expression softened slightly. Duke Hosaquin scanned my face with a complicated look. Just as the Count had said, Evangeline was the spitting image of her late mother. Surely he wouldn’t see her face in mine, fall into a pit of regret, and leave me his inheritance, right? That would be a disaster. I had no choice. I had to cross the line.
“Yes. She said her marriage was so miserable that she wanted to run away, but she knew her father, who had cut ties with her, would never take her back. She missed you every single day, feeling so sad and lonely.”
I lowered my voice so others wouldn’t overhear. Though my words were like twisting a knife in the heart of a grieving father, I wasn’t lying. And honestly, I wanted to criticize him. He shouldn’t have treated his daughter so coldly just because she married out of the family; he should have looked after her. Reading the late Countess’s diary, one could vividly feel just how miserable and lonely she had been.
“Why did you do that? Did you hate my mother for disobeying you? Did you find it unpardonable that she ran away to marry a man you didn’t approve of? Is that why you never visited her, not even once, until the day she died?”
“You… you…”
Cornered, Duke Hosaquin glared at me fiercely. His anger was practically boiling over like molten lava, so I decided to fan the flames.
“Yes. I am Evangeline Rohanson, your granddaughter.”
With that, Duke Hosaquin’s rage finally breached its limit. He snatched a wine glass that a servant had temporarily set on a nearby table while cleaning up the previous mess. What, is he going to splash it on me like in some morning soap opera? It's my debutante ball, and I'm wearing a white dress, of all things!
I took a step back to minimize the splash zone, but my body was suddenly pulled backward. I fell against a solid chest—a familiar scent, a familiar warmth. Looking up slightly, I met a pair of deep blue eyes. Though darkness had fallen outside the windows, his eyes alone still held the bright sunlight of a mid-afternoon.
Having shielded me and taken the wine in my stead, red liquid dripped from the tips of his black hair. It was a color that seemed utterly wrong on Gabriel, a man who was the embodiment of blue.
“Sir Gabriel.”
“Yes, my lady. As promised, I have returned before the dancing begins.”
Gabriel smiled, his eyes crinkling warmly.