Chapter 152
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 152
"I was on pins and needles, worried you might ask to 'inspect' it by sharing a glass, just like last time."
It seemed Herbert also thought of Harriet the moment he saw the wine bottle.
"If it has already passed the inspection process, there is no need to reconfirm it, is there?"
"That is true. Haha!"
For a moment, the only sound was the soft clinking of teacups being moved onto a tray. Herbert, having carefully cleared the table, spoke again.
"Viscount Listerwell seems to be discreetly spreading word that he received a fox from Your Grace. Shall we let it continue?"
"It’s fine. That is exactly why I sent it."
"Pardon? Are you saying you deliberately sent him a fox just to fuel the rumors?"
Cedric smiled faintly and gave a slight nod.
"It was the very first fox caught on the day of the hunting competition. An old thing, too slow to escape, with fur so mangy it was falling out."
The fur had been in such poor condition that the servants had intended to simply throw the carcass away. Recalling that, Cedric let out a small laugh and shook his head.
"They say everything has its use. Even a shabby fox pelt makes for good bait."
"Bait? What do you..."
"It’s nothing. And of course, as you already know, do not speak a word of what you have seen or heard here today."
"Of course, Your Grace."
Cedric nodded and rose from his seat. He felt lighthearted; things were proceeding exactly as expected. The plan for the Pelodier Theater also seemed to be on track.
As he turned to head back to his office, his gaze swept over a small holy statue hanging above the door. He, a man who had never possessed an ounce of piety, offered a silent prayer with a vague smile.
Bless him, Yawar. This young subject of yours—far more wicked, lewd, cunning, and vulgar than anyone could imagine.
And he prayed that he might be accepted by at least one woman, even after revealing his ugly true nature.
* * *
Astaire Street was home to many townhouses belonging to well-to-do families, even if they were only minor nobility. Among them, the Marshall Mansion was particularly well-maintained and always bustling with guests. Everyone believed that Jaden Marshall would eventually become the Count of Fellon.
However, recently—more precisely, after the disaster at the Kailas Ducal House's party—the carriages of noble families visiting the Marshall Mansion had abruptly ceased.
Everyone had different excuses, but the reason was obvious. That day, the world had learned that it would be impossible for Lauren or Jaden to seize power within the Fellon family.
"Vulgar wretches... To think their attitudes would flip like a palm over something so trivial. Just you wait. Just you wait...!"
Lauren, waking from a nightmare, stumbled down to the drawing room in her nightclothes and threw open a display cabinet. She needed a drink to steady her nerves immediately.
But Baron Marshall, who was already up and reading the newspaper, frowned and chided her.
"Lauren! Drinking first thing in the morning? Have you gone mad?"
Her husband, who used to cower before her, was now nagging her in a pathetic, condescending tone. She couldn't stand even the smallest slight without her temper flaring.
"You're the mad one! Do you think you could have even set foot in Genoa if you hadn't married me?"
"Why are you suddenly bringing that up?"
"Because even you are ignoring me now! But remember this clearly. Even if I am not blood-related, I am a legitimate member of the Fellon family's collateral branch!"
"If you hadn't acted so recklessly, everyone would have gone on thinking you were blood-related. Tsk."
"You!"
Lauren shrieked hysterically and hurled the liquor bottle. Baron Marshall shook his head in disgust and walked out of the drawing room.
Jaden, who had been leaning against the doorway watching his parents fight first thing in the morning, wasn't on his mother's side either.
"Why on earth did you do it? Of all places, at the Duke's party...!"
At her beloved son's accusation, Lauren's eyes grew even more hollow.
"Jaden...! You, you shouldn't do this to me. Not you...!"
"Oh, I don't know! What an embarrassment this is because of you, Mother."
As Jaden clicked his tongue just like his father and turned away, Lauren's legs gave out. She collapsed onto the floor.
"Everyone... they don't know anything..."
The Marshall family, who had only ever walked on the carpets she laid out for them, were ignorant of how the world truly worked. They didn't understand even a fraction of the desperation she felt when she rushed to the Kailas Ducal Mansion.
Roxana... if that girl debuted in high society, things would only get harder. That’s why I did it!
Lauren knew that crashing the Duke’s party was a dangerous gamble. Even a twelve-year-old would know that. Yet she had gone through with it because she was out of time.
To formally prevent Roxana from being recognized as the acting Family Head of the Fellon family, she would have had to bribe influential figures and file endless lawsuits. It would have taken immense effort. But Trisha had given her no such opportunity, debuting Roxana before she could act.
The moment Roxana was branded in the public mind as the 'acting Family Head' and 'heir to the Fellon family,' Lauren and Jaden's standing would inevitably vanish. She had to drag Roxana down in front of everyone, using her low-born origins as a weapon. She had to make it seem as if the position of heir was still vacant.
She had expected some humiliation for herself, and she could have tolerated that. But to be hit with such a massive counterattack...!
To reveal that I was adopted right then and there... what a shameless woman.
Lauren gnashed her teeth. She never imagined Trisha would reveal that fact. It was practically a disgrace to the Fellon name. The fact that the former mistress had registered a child born from an affair with another man as her own meant that Rugero Fellon, the previous Family Head, had been so infatuated that he had corrupted the family registry. What could be more humiliating than admitting that?
So, to drag me down to hell, she’ll reveal the family’s disgrace without a second thought?
If that was the case, Lauren couldn't afford to act elegantly either.
She uncapped the liquor bottle she had grabbed and drank straight from it. The harsh liquid burned down her throat, warming her empty stomach, but it wasn't nearly as hot as the rage simmering in her mind.
Just then, a servant rushed in, looked around nervously, and spoke.
"Madam. A man named 'Butcher Harry' is here. He says he has an appointment with you today, but his attire is... Should I send him away?"
"No, tell him to come in."
"Pardon? But he looks like a back-alley thug..."
"Stop chattering and bring him in!"
"Ah, yes, ma'am!"
A short while later, a truly shabbily dressed man swaggered into the room. He wasn't particularly surprised to see the shards of the broken bottle on the floor, nor Lauren drinking in her nightclothes.
"Why would a noble lady as beautiful as a flower want to see a man like me?"
His tone was casual, even mocking, carrying a hint of leisure. Lauren set the bottle down on the table.
"Why would I call 'Butcher Harry'? Because I have something to butcher."
"Hahaha! Indeed. Is the target a noble?"
That question dug painfully into Lauren's gut.
"I suppose so. Though until recently, they were a commoner."
"Hmm, then the price is a bit high. A 'Cow' is 500,000 Dirham, a 'Pig' is 300,000, and a 'Chicken' is 100,000. I take half as an advance. What would you like?"
"Cow."
"Those who know how to enjoy the craft always insist on 'Cow.' No lingering issues that way."
Butcher Harry chuckled and sat opposite Lauren.
"Alright then, shall we make a detailed plan for the job?"
Lauren smiled faintly and nodded. Her eyes were shining with a sharp, lethal light for the first time since the party.
* * *
The opening gala of the Pelodier Theater, a masterpiece built for opera, seemed to have drawn every person of note in High Society.
Harriet arrived at the theater accompanied by Gerard Austin, Cedric’s aide who had been a great help in preparing the Saint Clarissa Soap & Herb line. She stood before the entrance, breathless at its sheer grandeur.
"It’s incredible."
"Count Jim Pelodier apparently spent nearly ten years preparing this. It is likely the finest in the Empire in terms of scale and facilities. The quality of the performances will be equally high."
Even when she knew nothing of the nobility, Harriet had heard the name Pelodier. They carried a love for art in their blood, and the current Family Head was especially devoted to the stage.
"They say there isn't a single theater troupe in Genoa that isn't sponsored by the Pelodier family, right?"
"Yes. Everyone worried he was throwing money into a pit, but the results speak for themselves."
Under the Pelodier family's patronage, the Empire’s theater and opera scenes were enjoying a golden age. Jim Pelodier, as an investor, had earned an enormous fortune. Now that he had built his own theater, anyone hoping to succeed in the arts desperately needed his favor.
And an invitation from such a prominent family came to me...
A chill ran down her spine. Receiving an invitation from Jim Pelodier—who wouldn't have given her a second thought until recently—asking her to "please attend and grace the occasion with your presence," was only possible because of a casual word from Cedric Kailas.
I need to stay sharp.
Harriet took a deep breath and lightly placed her hand on Gerard’s outstretched arm. The two entered the bustling theater and located the seats indicated on their invitation.
Finding them wasn't difficult. The seats reserved for Cedric’s acquaintances were VIP boxes, easily accessible and offering a perfect view of the stage.
While she was once again marveling at the luxury, someone called out to her.