Chapter 188
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 188
"Harriet...!"
John hissed her name through gritted teeth, his voice low and dangerous. Harriet didn't so much as glance at her uncle. Instead, she turned to the Imperial Investigator and introduced the man standing beside him.
"This is Baron Alfonso Billay. He was the closest witness to my parents' accident."
John was the first to snap. "Where did you hear such a blatant lie?!"
Only then did Harriet deign to look at him. "Ah, you’re right. He wasn’t actually the closest. Apparently, there were two other people right next to my parents when it happened."
"And who were they?" the investigator asked.
In response, Alfonso slowly raised his hand. His fingertips, trembling slightly with age, pointed directly at the man who had been screaming until the veins in his neck bulged just moments ago. John Listerwell stood there, his face turning a sickly, ashen gray.
"Th-th-that's absurd! You! When did you ever see me? How much did she pay you to tell such a lie? Huh?!"
In stark contrast to John, who looked like he might collapse from sheer agitation, Baron Billay remained calm. There was a heavy sense of resolve in his eyes.
"If you had turned around just once—if you had looked back even for a second at your brother as he screamed for someone to save his wife—you would have seen my wife and me rowing toward you."
"What are you talking about? I was resting in the grass near the pier with my wife at the time!"
"Then how would I know the exact location of the accident if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes?" Alfonso turned his regretful gaze toward Tasia Lake.
It was a beautiful lake, shared by four large parks. Its intricate shoreline and abundant trees offered elegant scenery, but they also created many blind spots. Alfonso pointed past a willow tree that had only just begun to sprout its pale green leaves.
"If you go further in, there’s a spot where the shelf drops and the water suddenly turns deep. During boating season, they sometimes place buoys there. But there were none back then." He let out a small, weary sigh. "It was about eighty meters northeast of that spot. In my haste, it might have felt further, but it was definitely in that vicinity."
"You're just reciting what was in the newspapers! Investigator! Harriet is falsely accusing me!"
As John raged again, the investigator frowned in annoyance. "If you believe that, then file a formal complaint later. For now, I am only here at Miss Harriet Listerwell's request to oversee the salvage of the boat as evidence. We aren't going to drag you away based solely on Baron Billay's testimony, so please, calm down."
"Do I look like I can calm down right now?!"
"There is no reason you shouldn't. If you are truly innocent, you should welcome the retrieval of the boat. Don't you realize that getting angry only makes you look more suspicious?"
At that, John’s mouth finally snapped shut. He let out a few hollow, performative laughs as if he were simply dumbfounded by the absurdity of it all, but the crowd’s gaze had already shifted. The air was thick with distrust.
John seethed. The situation had spiraled out of his control with terrifying speed.
The title of the Duke's mistress certainly has its perks, he thought bitterly. Everyone is bending over backward just to stay on Harriet's good side.
How much better would it have been if his own daughter, Bella, had claimed that position instead? Because she hadn't, he was reduced to standing here, waiting for that Wesca bumpkin to fail the salvage operation.
Fine. Even better. Let that boat be smashed to pieces right in front of her eyes. Maybe then she’ll learn her place.
John crossed his arms, settling in to watch the "show" fail.
A short while later, Morris Declan finished his inspection of the salvage vessel and the equipment that had been moored in the lake since the previous day. He jogged lightly to the pier and announced that preparations were complete. The onlookers, though they didn't fully grasp the technicalities, clapped and cheered in excitement.
"I'm counting on you, Mr. Declan," Harriet said.
"Of course, my investor." Morris tipped his flat cap with a playful flourish and headed back to the water.
Watching his retreating figure, Harriet struggled to suppress the surge of emotion rising in her chest. It could still fail, she reminded herself.
They had confirmed the boat was down there two days ago. She had barely been able to hold back her tears that day. But according to the diver who had scouted the lakebed, the boat was covered in soft mud, making a clean recovery difficult to guarantee. The pressure of the water combined with the weight of the silt could cause the wooden frame to disintegrate.
It was Morris who had calmed her fears.
"Don't you worry! I'm the man who salvages treasure ships abandoned for over a century. A mere twelve-year-old wooden boat? I can pull that up in my sleep!"
She clung to his confidence, standing on a fragile floor of hope. Yet, a voice in the back of her mind whispered, Don't get your hopes up. So few things in her life had ever gone the way she wanted.
"Alright, we're off! Wish us luck, everyone!"
With Morris’s shout, the salvage boat and the divers set off toward the center of the lake.
*
At that very moment, Cedric was monitoring the situation from his office, relying on a steady stream of documents and informants.
"At 10:23 AM, Mr. Declan set off with the salvage boat," Butler Herbert reported. He had just finished a brief word with a messenger outside. An informant had been stationed on the top floor of a nearby mansion, watching the park through a telescope.
"Keep watching. Report anything unusual immediately."
"Yes, Your Grace."
Herbert bowed, but instead of leaving as he usually would, he hesitated. "Wouldn't it be better for Your Grace to be by Miss Harriet’s side today?"
Cedric looked up, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before a subtle, knowing smile played on his lips. "Why do you think so?"
"Because this operation is undoubtedly vital to her. Her uncle has appeared as well. If Your Grace were there, it would surely provide her with the reassurance she needs."
"Indeed. Many would think so. That is exactly why I didn't go—no, why I couldn't go." Cedric let out a short sigh. In truth, he wanted nothing more than to rush to her side. "If I were standing with her today, how would it look to the public?"
"They would say Your Grace went to great lengths for the woman he loves. Surely that would stop any baseless rumors?"
"Quite the opposite. They might smile to my face, but behind my back, they would slander Harriet. They would say she is using the power of the Ducal House to torment her uncle. Everyone knows of their conflict now."
"Surely not. As you said, the public generally knows by now that the scandal surrounding Miss Harriet was a fabrication."
Herbert implied that no one would dare harbor such malice, but Cedric knew human psychology all too well—especially the jealousy people felt toward those who had climbed higher than them.
There were brothers who couldn't stand to see their own siblings become royal consorts; how much more envious would these people be of a woman they barely knew?
"In any case, today must be Harriet's moment above all else. Besides, I have plenty to do behind the scenes."
He lightly waved the documents in his hand and returned to his work.
The papers Cedric was reviewing contained a meticulous, date-organized trace of someone’s movements. The fact that these dates were from twelve years ago was the most telling detail.
Disguise, threats, silencing, even murder... Viscount Listerwell certainly put in the effort. But he wasn't perfect.
The only reason the Viscount hadn't been more thorough in covering his tracks after killing the previous Family Head was likely because he had underestimated Harriet. Cedric marked the crucial details, categorizing them into a file that would serve as the final nail in the coffin. He was wielding the true power Harriet needed, all without her ever knowing.
After two hours of intense focus, the news finally arrived.
"Your Grace! The boat has broken the surface!"
Cedric’s grip tightened on his pen. He imagined Harriet, overwhelmed and finally vindicated, and it pained him that he wasn't there to hold her. But if a brief period of patience could yield a greater victory for her, he was willing to endure it.
He looked at Herbert, who was waiting for his next command.
"Immediately strengthen the personal protection for Mr. Morris Declan."