Chapter 143
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 143
“Miss Annabelle!”
“Oh, Miss Harriet! It’s been far too long. How have you been?”
Annabelle Leighton, whom Harriet hadn't seen in some time, clearly still maintained her reputation as a social butterfly. A small crowd lingered around her, guests craning their necks just to catch her eye and offer a greeting.
Harriet wasted no time in introducing Roxana.
“Aunt, let me introduce you. This is my friend, Miss Annabelle Leighton. She is a woman of great culture and even greater connections, always with an ear open for fresh perspectives. Miss Annabelle, this is my aunt, Lady Roxana Fellon. She is attending today’s festivities on behalf of Great-aunt Trisha.”
Annabelle, who had never heard Harriet mention an ‘aunt’ before, tilted her head in momentary confusion. However, she quickly smoothed her expression into one of polite interest upon realizing Roxana was the official successor to the House of Fellon.
“It is a true pleasure to meet you, Lady Fellon.”
“The pleasure is mine, Lady Leighton. I trust the Viscount and Viscountess are in good health?”
“They are! Do you happen to know my parents?”
“They visited the manor a few years ago to call upon my mother. I remember them as individuals of remarkable insight.”
“Oh! Then we must certainly arrange for you to greet them later this evening.”
Annabelle treated Roxana with exactly the kind of polished deference Harriet had hoped for. The onlookers, who had been watching with predatory curiosity, now had the basic facts: Roxana was a Fellon. Slowly, the dismissive, cold glances began to thaw.
Following that successful introduction, Roxana was led through the crowd by her chaperone, Countess Hashton, and Harriet.
The reactions they encountered were split down the middle. One group immediately showed respect the moment ‘the Fellon successor’ was mentioned, while the other cast long, suspicious looks her way.
‘Let’s see how long you can keep those looks on your faces,’ Harriet thought, grinding her teeth. She felt the sting of their judgment more sharply than if they had ignored her personally.
However, the atmosphere shifted the moment the hosts of the gala, Jeremia and Cedric, made their entrance.
“Welcome, Miss Roxana!”
Jeremia greeted Roxana with a warm hug, treating her like a dear, long-lost friend.
While the prestige of Countess Hashton was a powerful shield, Jeremia’s welcome carried the weight of royalty. Even now, people still whispered of her as ‘the Youngest Imperial Princess,’ and her favor drew every eye in the room.
“I have always been concerned about the Fellon succession, but seeing Miss Roxana, I finally understand why Lady Fellon was so composed. I cannot imagine why she kept such a person hidden away for so long.”
“There were various circumstances to consider, Your Grace. I hope we shall have the opportunity to meet often in the future,” Roxana replied gracefully.
“The House of Fellon has long been a dear friend to our family. We will continue to assist with Lady Fellon’s treatment, so please, do not worry yourself too much.”
Those eavesdropping on the exchange quickly began to recalibrate. Jeremia had not just welcomed Roxana; she had publicly validated her as the heir to the Fellon earldom. In an instant, Roxana’s social stock plummeted upward.
Meanwhile, Harriet was doing her best to ignore Cedric, who stood tall beside Jeremia.
‘He said he was looking for a bride at this party... and he is absolutely dazzling. Simply radiant.’
Harriet had never seen a man so meticulously put together. His hair was slicked back perfectly with pomade, revealing the sharp symmetry of his brows and the fine lines of his eyes. It was enough to make Harriet see Cedric Kailas’s beauty in an entirely new light.
His dark ruby eyes caught the glow of the chandeliers, sparkling like polished gems, and his prominent nose gave his profile a sense of strength and nobility. His lips, curved into his signature polite smile, looked particularly soft today—almost alluring.
And then, those lips addressed her.
“You look as beautiful as ever today, Miss Harriet.”
“Me? Oh... me?”
Harriet was caught off guard. The greeting came while Jeremia was still busy introducing Roxana to other acquaintances.
“Thank you, Your Grace. You also look... truly splendid today.”
“Do I?”
“Yes. Truly.”
“Then my efforts were worthwhile.”
Harriet assumed he was joking. She couldn't quite picture a man like Cedric fussing over his appearance.
Just then, Jeremia turned her attention toward Harriet.
“Oh, where is my head! Welcome, Miss Harriet!”
“Ah! Th-thank you for the warm welcome, Your Grace. The ballroom is so magnificent, I found myself completely lost in admiration.”
“I am glad you like it. I hope you enjoy the festivities today.”
With that, the formal greetings concluded. As the hosts, Jeremia and Cedric had a sea of guests to navigate.
Harriet stole one last glance at Cedric as he followed Jeremia away, only to find his eyes already fixed on her. She should have looked away, but she found herself captivated by that crimson gaze, unable to move.
‘Should I say something?’ she wondered, her mind racing.
As Harriet fumbled for words, Cedric silently mouthed a single phrase.
‘See you later.’
Then, he turned fully and began greeting the next group of nobles.
Harriet stood frozen, wondering if she had hallucinated the moment. But no matter how many times she replayed it in her head, his lips had clearly formed those words. Her heart gave a foolish, traitorous flutter.
‘It was just a polite remark. Why am I getting worked up? Get a grip, Harriet. You have a job to do. You’re here to support Aunt Roxana.’
She shook her head vigorously to clear the stray thoughts and scanned the room for Roxana. Her aunt was currently submerged in a barrage of greetings. This was exactly the moment a ‘slightly impudent’ niece was needed.
“Excuse me! There are many others over there who are dying to meet my aunt, so I’ll have to borrow her for just a moment.”
Feigning a bright, apologetic smile, Harriet linked her arm with Roxana’s and pulled her out of the press of bodies. She led her to a quiet refreshment bar, poured a cool drink, and pressed it into her hand.
“Catch your breath.”
Only then did Roxana realize that the ‘other people’ were a total fabrication. She let out a long, relieved sigh.
“Thank you, Miss Harriet.”
“I’m sorry I can only help with small things like this.”
Roxana drained the glass in one go and shook her head.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but honestly, you’ve helped me more than I ever expected today. I’ve relied on you a great deal—emotionally, most of all.”
“Really?”
“Yes, truly. I didn’t realize I would be this nervous. It’s only because you’re here that I can even manage to pretend to smile.”
A slightly awkward, embarrassed smile touched Roxana’s lips. She couldn't quite meet Harriet’s eyes.
The confession filled Harriet with an immense sense of pride. She lifted her chin playfully, boasting with a grin.
“See? I taught you well, didn't I? Just you wait. Someday, I’ll—!”
Before Harriet could finish her boast, Roxana’s expression went cold. She reached out and gripped Harriet’s arm tightly.
“W-what’s wrong?”
Roxana didn't answer. Instead, she gestured with her eyes toward the entrance of the ballroom. Lauren was walking in, flanked by a small entourage. She was scanning the room like a predator, clearly searching for someone.
The smile vanished from Harriet’s face.
“They said they invited every family with an unmarried daughter, and I suppose they meant it. Even she managed to crawl in.”
As Harriet ground her teeth, Roxana took her hand and gave it a firm, grounding squeeze.
“This is the Kailas Ducal House. If you cause a scene, it will only bring trouble to Lady Fellon. With so many eyes watching, Lady Marshall won’t dare act out of turn, either.”
“Unless they pick a fight first, I have no reason to cause a scene.”
“I mean it, Harriet. Respond with dignity, no matter how she tries to provoke you.”
“I’ll try.”
Roxana gave her one last warning look, then adjusted her gown. With her face set in a mask of firm resolve, she began to walk back toward Countess Hashton.
Harriet followed, though her expression was far from composed.
‘The nerve of that woman. How dare she show her face here? She’ll probably put on that hypocritical act again, pretending to worry about Grandmother’s health in front of everyone. Ha! How am I supposed to stomach that?’
Harriet had already reported Joseph Alden to the Imperial Investigators for the attempted murder of a noble. It was only a matter of time before he was caught, and once he was, Lauren would be implicated as his accomplice.
Under the circumstances, shouldn't she be preparing to flee the country instead of brazenly walking into a ducal gala?
Harriet’s blood boiled, but she forced herself to endure. Today, Trisha’s orders were clear: protect Roxana.
‘Fine. I’ll let it go for now. But next time, I won’t hold back.’
Just as Harriet managed to force a smile and take her place beside Roxana and Countess Hashton, a sharp, piercing voice cut through the music.
“Roxana Valbenus!”
The voice belonged, unbelievably, to Lauren.
She strode across the floor, closing the distance in seconds, and roughly shoved Roxana’s shoulder.
“You shameless wench! Renounce the adoption this instant!”
“Lady Marshall, what do you think you are doing—!”
Roxana realized then that she had vastly underestimated Lauren’s desperation. She had expected Lauren to stick to refined, biting sarcasm, mindful of the high-society audience. It seemed Lauren no longer cared for such trivialities.
“What am I doing?! Lady Fellon is ill and clearly not in her right mind! You must have manipulated her! How dare a gutter-born wretch like you covet the Fellon earldom!”
The outburst sent a shockwave through the room. Roxana, Harriet, and every guest within earshot stood frozen in disbelief.
This was the Kailas Ducal House. This was the first gala the Duke had hosted in five years. The breach of etiquette was staggering.
The room fell into a stunned silence, broken only by the quick, rhythmic clicking of heels as Jeremia approached the scene.
“What is the meaning of this commotion?”