Chapter 160
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 160
She pulled her hand from Cedric’s grasp and asked, "Why... why would you say something like that?"
"You aren't smiling."
"Because I have no idea what you're talking about. So, why...!"
She couldn't find the words to finish the sentence. What could she say?
Why are you saying such heart-fluttering things to me? Do you actually have feelings for me? Or are you just testing me? Are you toying with me?
Cedric merely watched her, his gaze enigmatic.
Harriet finally forced a small laugh, trying to hedge her way out of the tension. "It’s strange, isn't it? Offering a greeting like that when there isn't... that kind of relationship between us."
As soon as the words left her mouth, the silence inside the carriage became stifling.
Cedric lowered his eyes. His expression was unreadable—neither smiling nor angry. He slowly clenched and unclenched the hand that had just been holding hers.
"Is it strange? Then I have been rude."
"It’s not so much strange as it is... bewildering. Perhaps I’m just old-fashioned, but saying 'I missed you' feels like something permissible only between... lovers."
"And yet."
To Harriet, who was trying her best to act nonchalant, Cedric dropped another bombshell.
"If you were to tell me that you missed me, I believe I would be quite pleased. Regardless of what you meant by it."
The carriage fell silent once more.
Harriet bit her lip, her eyes darting around as she desperately searched for a response. If she didn't start babbling about something, she was certain Cedric would hear the frantic pounding of her heart.
As she fumbled for words, Cedric—perhaps sensing her discomfort—naturally steered the conversation toward business.
"In any case, a major incident will soon be reported in the newspapers. When you see it, please prepare yourself to take the stand as a witness."
"Ah, I understand. It seems there will be many witnesses besides me, so I expect the trial will be quite long."
"Well, the matter is so grave that, contrary to expectations, a conclusion might be reached rather quickly."
Harriet nodded solemnly, grateful for the chance to shake off the lingering awkwardness.
Meanwhile, the carriage, having circled the sparsely populated streets of Genoa, headed back toward the Fellon Estate. Realizing their time was drawing to a close, Harriet opened her bag as the estate’s main gate came into view.
"This... you might not really need it, but..."
She pulled a small package from her bag and handed it to Cedric.
"They’re bath salts made with hot spring minerals. They’re a specialty of Einspora. Since they weren't expensive, I bought a few as gifts while I was there. I tried them myself, and they made my skin incredibly smooth. It was quite nice."
Embarrassed, Harriet babbled on as if it were a trifle.
She had agonized over whether to give this to him. She worried that offering a mere fifty-dirham gift to a Duke and a man of his immense wealth would seem ridiculous.
But she couldn't bring herself to keep it.
She wanted to convey the fact that she had thought of him while she was away—a truth only she knew, even if he never realized the depth of it.
Cedric slowly turned the packaged box over in his hands. "You tried them as well?"
"Yes! The exact same ones. It’s a shame I can’t exactly... show you the results."
Whatever she said must have been amusing, because Cedric let out a soft "Pfft"—a small, sudden burst of laughter. It was a smile that seemed a little awkward, perhaps even a bit bashful.
"Thank you. What am I to do, always being the one receiving gifts?"
"You’re always giving me much greater things, so please, don't worry about it. It wasn't even expensive."
"Price doesn't determine a gift's value, does it? I’ll be sure to repay you someday."
"You d-don't need to feel obligated...!"
Just then, the carriage came to a complete stop.
Cedric opened the door, not even looking at Harriet as she waved her hands in protest.
"Please forgive my rudeness in not escorting you to the door. There is a possibility of surveillance."
"Again, I told you not to worry about such things. Well... I’ll see you next time."
"Yes. We will meet again."
Harriet met his eyes one last time before stepping out.
Soon, the carriage departed, and the meeting that had kept Harriet awake with excitement for days came to a quiet end.
*
While one person was lost in the perplexing anxieties and melancholy of a first love, another was cursing everyone but herself in the face of utter despair.
"This is absurd! If there is a God, this shouldn't be happening!"
Sitting in the cold stone room, Lauren cried out repeatedly. When her throat grew raw from shouting, she resorted to mumbling; when her mouth went dry, she summoned a guard for water, quenched her thirst, and began screaming all over again.
She couldn't give up. She clung to the hope that someone might listen to her claims. She even ate every meal diligently, refusing to skip a single bite, solely to conserve her strength.
A week passed in this manner, but no good news arrived.
"All the requests for legal counsel you submitted have been rejected, Madam. It seems the lawyers have refused to represent you," the prison guard informed her, not even bothering to hide his annoyance.
"You! You’ve been bribed by Trisha Fellon, haven't you? You’re lying to me! Call my husband or my son! I can’t trust anyone!"
"Hmph. I told you last time, didn't I? The House of Marshall hasn't submitted a single visitation request. If they won't come, what am I supposed to do? Drag them here by force?"
"Lies! I’m the victim! This is unfair!"
"Yes, yes. You can explain all that at the second trial."
The guard didn't spare another glance for Lauren as she lunged for him. He simply walked away.
She collapsed back onto the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
Any thought of maintaining a noblewoman’s dignity had long since vanished. From the moment she felt the gut-wrenching realization that everything was over, only stubborn defiance and malice remained.
"Just you wait! Do you think I’ll just back down like this? I’ll get out of here, no matter what!"
Wiping her tear-streaked face carelessly with the back of her hand, Lauren gnashed her teeth.
It wasn't as if she were entirely out of options.
A deal, perhaps? She could receive a reduced sentence in exchange for naming an accomplice, or she could try to negotiate with an accomplice who feared being exposed.
If I’m to be punished, then Bella Listerwell should be punished too! Honestly, if it weren't for that woman, things wouldn't have escalated this far. This is all that bitch's fault!
She regretted being swayed by Bella’s instigation to kill Trisha.
Instead of acting then, she should have gone after Roxana, who would have been left vulnerable after Trisha’s death. If she had done that, it would have been simple, and she wouldn't have been caught.
The only problem was that, trapped here, she couldn't reach Bella herself.
Let’s try writing home one more time. I don't know if these guards, bribed by that old hag, will actually deliver it, but...
She couldn't send a letter directly to Bella. If she did, the investigators would intercept it and interrogate Bella first, and Lauren’s leverage would vanish.
She had to send a letter home to force either her husband or Jaden to visit. If they didn't come this time... then she would have no choice. She would name Bella to the investigators at the second trial and aim for a reduced sentence.
She gripped the bars tightly and shouted into the corridor.
"Guard! I want to send a letter to my family! Let me write a letter!"
At her shout, the assigned guard, who was standing some distance away, let out a heavy sigh loud enough for her to hear.
"Again with the daily letters? I’ve delivered every single one! They just aren't coming, I tell you!"
"Shut up and bring me stationery and a pen!"
The guard clicked his tongue in boredom. However, he couldn't refuse the request. This was a prison for the nobility, and the prisoner’s rank still carried weight.
Perhaps feeling sorry for his colleague, another guard patted his shoulder. "Stay here. I’ll go instead."
"B-but she isn't your assigned prisoner..."
"My assigned prisoners don't call for me nearly this much. Get some rest."
He showed his colleague some grace and then brought Lauren the stationery and an envelope.
To an outsider, it might have seemed natural, but Lauren looked puzzled that he had brought an envelope as well. Usually, letters leaving the prison were only sealed after being censored.
Sensing her confusion, the guard whispered, "Just this once, I will secretly deliver the letter for you. Write freely."
"How can I trust you?"
His voice dropped even lower. "Yesterday, Sir Jaden Marshall asked me to help you. I’ve already received a considerable sum for my trouble. If I were to lie, I wouldn't keep my life for long."
At his words, a look of pure elation bloomed on Lauren’s face.
"J-Jaden...!"
"Shh! Keep your voice down. On one sheet of paper, write something that is fine for the censors to see. On the sheet you put in the envelope, write the real message you want to convey. And be sure to seal the envelope tightly."
"Thank you, thank you!"
Lauren was deeply moved by the fact that her son had not betrayed her.
Though she had so much she wanted to say, she held back her tears and wrote. One ordinary letter, seemingly asking about her family’s well-being, and another—the real letter that needed to escape these walls.
「Jaden. Bella Listerwell is an accomplice. Tell her to find a way to get me out. If she refuses, tell her I will confess her name at the second trial.
I love you.
— Mother.」
She tucked the letter into the envelope and sealed the flap tightly with her saliva.
The taste of the adhesive on her tongue was somewhat bitter, but she easily dismissed the minor detail, her mind already on the son who would soon come to her rescue.