Chapter 68
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 68
"Revenge?"
"Yes. I won't be satisfied until I see him fall in front of everyone."
Albert ground his teeth, the image of Cedric flashing in his mind—the man who had treated him and his father with blatant disregard ever since ascending to the Dukedom.
He thinks he’s some noble, aloof ice flower, doesn’t he? I’ll show them all. I’ll prove he’s just as human as the rest of us. I will!
With Angelic by his side, dragging Cedric down wouldn't be difficult. A chilling smile spread across Albert's face.
* * *
Even after Holy Festival Week concluded, the temple remained packed. Crowds had gathered once more for the first prayer of the New Year.
"Are you sure you'll be alright, Daphne?"
Countess Laurel asked for the umpteenth time, her face a mask of worry even after their carriage had come to a halt in front of the temple.
"Don't worry, Mother. This is a temple; surely no one would be bold enough to mock me here."
"Daphne..."
"I'm just kidding. I truly don't mind it anymore."
Daphne offered a bright smile, trying to reassure her parents. But seeing her like that only made the Laurels feel as if their hearts were being torn apart.
"What did you do wrong that you have to fear the eyes of others, even for a New Year's prayer...!" Count Laurel’s voice trailed off as he clenched his jaw, unable to finish the sentence. He looked away, his eyes burning with indignation.
But Daphne met his gaze with surprising firmness.
"You're right, Father. I haven't done anything wrong. There’s no reason for me to care what they think, and certainly no reason to miss the New Year’s prayers. So, let’s go, Mother, Father."
The Laurels stared at their daughter, stunned. They wondered if she was merely putting on a brave face for them, but her smile was as bright and clear as it had been before the engagement was shattered.
"Ah... yes. Let's go."
Regaining his composure, Count Laurel stepped out of the carriage first, then carefully escorted his wife and daughter in turn.
It had been months since the Laurels had last appeared in public, so their presence alone was enough to draw attention. But when the crowd caught sight of Daphne’s signature silver hair, they doubted their own eyes.
"Oh! It's Daphne Laurel!"
"The young lady whose engagement was broken?"
"How long has it been since she showed her face?"
The whispers didn't quite reach Daphne's ears, but she keenly felt the weight of the furtive glances following her. It would be a lie to say she wasn't nervous, but she was no longer afraid.
Why should the victim hide like a criminal?
The more you hide, the bolder Bella will become.
Harriet’s words echoed in her mind.
Yes. I’m not the one who should be hiding.
Daphne took a deep breath and let her smile widen. With every step the Laurel family took, a barrage of surprised gazes followed. Count and Countess Laurel maintained an even more composed expression for their daughter's sake, feigning nonchalance. Their daughter was trying so hard; they couldn't afford to look distraught.
Just then, someone called out to them.
"It has been quite some time, Count Laurel. Countess."
"Ah, Countess Lilburn!"
It was Countess Lilburn, the president of the Saint Paolo Temple’s Ladies’ Guild. Her intervention was a stroke of luck; she was a social powerhouse, skilled at navigating the delicate waters of high society with polite curiosity.
"I assume you've come for the New Year's prayers? Lady Laurel, it has been a long time. How have you been?"
"Thank you for your concern. I had been feeling unwell and was recuperating, but my health has recently improved, so I've come to offer my prayers of thanks for the New Year."
"Oh my! When a young lady shows such deep piety, I find it truly admirable. You've raised your daughter very well, Count Laurel."
"Hahaha! You flatter me. But I also know how difficult it is to find a bride as virtuous as my daughter."
Countess Lilburn laughed pleasantly at his reply.
"You should head inside quickly. Many worshippers have already gathered, and it will be difficult to find a seat if you wait any longer."
"Thank you. May God's blessings be with you, Countess."
After the brief exchange, the Laurel family hurried toward the chapel. As Countess Lilburn had warned, the prime seats were already taken, and the chapel buzzed with people exchanging greetings.
"Oh dear. I was supposed to meet Count Sheldon, but I wonder if I'll even be able to find him in this crowd..."
At her father's mention of a meeting, Daphne thought of Harriet.
Which temple does Lady Harriet attend?
She wanted to meet her and apologize for failing to reply to her letter, but it wouldn't be easy under her overprotective parents' watchful eyes—unless they happened to meet by chance.
If I see her at a party later, I'll definitely apologize then.
Daphne greeted the acquaintances who recognized her, suppressing her regret as she moved through the crowd. Perhaps due to the symbolism of the first of January, the chapel was completely full by the time the service began.
The New Year's prayer service was not an overly elaborate affair. It was a short ceremony, lasting about ninety minutes: twenty minutes for the opening rituals, thirty minutes for the High Priest’s sermon, and ten minutes for the choir’s hymn and private prayer, with the rest of the time taken up by seating.
"Leaving will be a task in itself," Count Laurel muttered, glancing back at the exit as the final hymn faded. Since they were seated near the front, they would have to wait quite a while to make their exit.
"It’ll go by quickly once we start greeting people we know," Daphne replied.
Count Laurel smiled proudly at her positive outlook. He had feared she might crumble after appearing before so many people for the first time in months, but instead, Daphne was the one looking after her worried parents. The wound might have left a scar, but it was no longer bleeding.
Now I can finally rest easy.
The past year had been a nightmare. He could easily ignore the mocking glances directed at him and his wife, but the ruin of his young, beautiful daughter's future had been unbearable. Watching her waste away, crying every day, was a pain so excruciating he would have rather had his heart gouged out.
Yet, those dark times had passed, and they were gradually reclaiming their peace. He didn't know exactly what had caused the change; he only knew that one day, Daphne had returned from a short outing, and from then on, she had begun to show a renewed will to live.
"Watch your step, Daphne."
"I'm fine, Father. You should look after Mother."
Daphne playfully wrinkled her nose as she teased her father. It was just then that a voice called out.
"Lady Daphne?"
The Count and Countess tensed, looking up instantly. Daphne, however, wore a look of pleasant surprise.
"Lady Harriet!"
It was Harriet, the very person she had hoped to meet. Her appearance caught the Laurels off guard, and their apprehension only grew when they realized Trisha Fellon was standing right beside her, radiating a formidable presence.
"It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Harriet Listerwell. You must be Count and Countess Laurel? I wish for God's blessings to be upon your household in the New Year."
Harriet's polite greeting was unexpected. There was no hint of mockery in her tone, and her posture as she offered her respects was flawless, as if pulled straight from a textbook.
"Ah, Lady Harriet. Countess Fellon, it has been a long time."
"It has indeed. As I've aged, it has become difficult to go out, so it's only on days like this that I manage to see you," Trisha replied.
Trisha took the blame for the long absence herself, subtly shielding the Laurel family from the awkwardness of their own social withdrawal. That small gesture touched Count Laurel. Trisha was merciless toward those who tried to use her, but otherwise, she was a woman who strictly adhered to the highest standards of etiquette. To show consideration by not mentioning the suffering of those victimized by rumors—wasn't this the true mark of a noble?
"I hope we can meet more often in the future. We're planning to host several parties this year," the Count said.
"They say an old woman like me would only spoil the atmosphere. Instead, I'll send this child, and I'd be grateful if you'd welcome her as you would me."
"Ah... haha! Y-yes, of course."
Count Laurel had no choice but to make the promise.
Meanwhile, Daphne approached Harriet and whispered in a voice too low for her father to hear.
"I truly wanted to see you. You aren't upset that I didn't reply to your letter, are you? I wrote a response saying I’d use the lavender toner you sent, but... well, circumstances made it difficult to send it."
From Daphne's nervous glances at her father, Harriet could easily guess what those 'circumstances' were. Now that Trisha had engaged the Count and Countess, this was her chance.
"Great-aunt," Harriet said, turning to Trisha. "She is a friend I haven't seen in a long time. May I speak with her for a moment?"