The Grand Public Reveal of the Fiancé's Affair
"You expect me to believe such outrageous lies? Servants—seize that insolent wretch at once!"
"H-how dare you slander my wife! You insolent little—!"
Silvia Robbins, the young lady of House Robbins, and Marquis Bellot shouted in perfect unison. The servants closed in on the bastard Rix.
Rix snapped his head around and locked eyes with one of them.
The servant froze mid-step.
"You. When you were little, you fell out of a tree and cracked the back of your skull open."
"H-how—how do you know that?!"
Next.
Rix turned his gaze on another servant, eyes that seemed to cut straight through a person.
"When you were five, you begged a maid to sleep with you because you were scared of the dark. Your brother overheard and never let you live it down."
"Ugh—?!"
Next.
That stare did not stop.
"You lost your underclothes recently, so you stole another servant's."
"Wha—!"
Memories surged. Fragments of the past poured endlessly into Rix's mind. One by one, he pinned every approaching servant with the secrets of their own history.
The servants gathered in the banquet hall were all the children of lesser nobles. For people who prized honor above all else, an assault of buried embarrassments was impossible to endure. As if a magical barrier had sprung up around him, none of them dared take another step closer.
"Which house is that man from?"
"The bastard of House Valentier. To suddenly start raving like a madman…"
"Tsk. This is exactly why you don't let bastards into a banquet."
The nobles murmured among themselves, thinking they were being discreet—but in the dead silence of the hall, every word carried crystal clear.
"What are you servants doing?! If you can't manage it, call the footmen! Have the footmen seize that insolent cur!"
A count's bastard, humiliating the young lady of a ducal house—unthinkable. It was the first time in her life Silvia had ever suffered such insubordination, and she could not stand it. She shouted herself hoarse.
Unable to withstand the barrage of their own dark pasts, the servants finally summoned the footmen—common-born household staff. Unlike the noble-born attendants, the footmen cared nothing for honor. They were immune to blackmail by embarrassment.
The footmen surrounded Rix, tightening the circle with every step. There was nowhere left to run.
I will not forgive this. That wretched count's bastard—!
Silvia's face had gone scarlet; her breath came hard and fast. Her joyful birthday banquet—the one meant to announce her engagement—had been completely ruined. She would drag that man and his parents before her and force them to their knees.
Kneeling is the bare minimum. I'll give him a humiliation far worse than that!
The crime of shaming a duke's daughter before so many nobles was no light matter. She would make certain he paid a fitting price.
Dozens of footmen hemmed Rix in.
He took a single step forward instead.
"Young lady of House Robbins! Are you afraid?!"
He shouted it straight at Silvia. Shock washed over every noble face in the room. A count's bastard had addressed that infamous villainess without so much as an honorific. Even the footmen flinched at the sheer madness of it.
A twisted smile pulled at Silvia's lips. She would not stand for this absurd insubordination a second longer.
"Afraid? What could there possibly be for Silvia Robbins to fear? I fear nothing!"
"If you're not afraid, then why are you trying to have me seized?"
"Because you humiliated my fiancé! Has your madness progressed so far that you don't even understand that?!"
He had insulted a duke's daughter and insulted her fiancé. Punishing him was only natural. Silvia believed that without a shred of doubt—and so she challenged the bastard head-on.
"Silvia Robbins. You're working very hard to look away from the truth."
The air around Rix turned colder still. He had already been radiating something uncanny, but now—
Wh-what is this aura?
—even Silvia could feel it. The strange atmosphere thickened. It was chilling. Looking into his eyes felt like being pulled under.
"If you're not afraid, then confirm it. Then you'll know whether I humiliated your fiancé or not."
"Th-that kind of nonsense won't—"
Silvia's words trailed off. He had struck the exact nerve she had no way to escape. The anxiety that her fiancé might be seeing another woman had been eating away at her long before the banquet even began.
…What if that man is telling the truth?
The fear she had so carefully ignored was already writhing in her unconscious. That was why she had reacted so violently—because it felt as though her anxiety had been exposed, as though someone had caught her doubting her own fiancé. And so she had shouted all the louder.
"Very well. I'll confirm it, just as you say. But if you've made a fool of me and my fiancé with lies, you'd better be prepared to pay with your life."
"L-Lady Silvia Robbins! You needn't listen to a single word from a ruffian like—"
"Be quiet! This concerns my honor. I will not simply stand by while I am insulted in front of so many nobles."
Silvia's shoulders rose and fell as she turned to Marquis Bellot. His face, like hers, had flushed an ugly, mottled red.
"Marquis Bellot. That despicable scoundrel claims your wife is having an affair with my fiancé. Where is the Marchioness right now?"
"My wife is unwell and was regrettably unable to attend this evening's banquet. She should be resting at home."
"Then confirm it. Immediately."
"Understood."
Marquis Bellot summoned a servant and whispered instructions. In this world, long-distance communication through magic existed—though only high-ranking nobles could afford to use it. The servant hurried from the banquet hall at a near run.
A suffocating silence settled over the room.
Footsteps pounded. The servant who had gone outside came rushing back in and whispered urgently into the marquis's ear.
Every noble in the hall fixed their attention on the exchange. No one was so crude as to stare openly, but every last one of them was watching from the corner of an eye.
"Marquis Bellot. Well? Your wife is at home, of course?"
"Ah… th-that is…"
The marquis's face went deathly pale. The tremor in his voice alone was enough for anyone to guess what had happened.
"…They say my wife has gone out."
"Didn't you just say she was unwell?"
"P-perhaps she stepped out for a brief walk. One does get restless, cooped up indoors all day."
"How long has the Marchioness been gone?"
Marquis Bellot avoided Silvia's gaze.
"…Even the servants don't know. It seems she left without telling them."
Gasps rose from every direction. The scene unfolding was more scandalous than any morning soap opera. The nobles held their breath, hearts pounding, and watched.
"Heh… heh heh. It seems I have no choice. I'll have to call my fiancé myself. Servant—bring me a Communication Stone."
The attendant at Silvia's side vanished at a sprint.
"L-Lady Robbins. Surely you don't mean to place the call right here?"
"Yes. That will be the most conclusive way."
"There's no need for that! We all trust you and your fiancé completely!"
"I'm doing this because I want to. Stay out of it."
Conducting a long-distance noble communication in front of others was practically taboo. Doing so without the other party's consent—broadcasting the call for everyone to overhear—was an unforgivable breach of etiquette. Silvia knew that. She decided to do it anyway. It was the only way to prove her innocence—or to expose her fiancé's guilt for all the world to see.
The servant returned with a Communication Stone the size of a palm, blue as a polished gem. Silvia took it, worked it a few times, and set it on the table.
Rrring. Rrring.
A soft click. The call connected.
"This is Fabian Seyffert. What is it?"
"Fabian, it's me. Silvia Robbins."
The voice from the Communication Stone carried through the entire banquet hall. Not a single noble so much as breathed as they listened.
"Oh. Uh—what's the occasion? Silvia calling me herself instead of having a maid do it?"
"I'm sorry. I just wanted to hear your voice."
Silvia didn't so much as twitch an eyebrow as she shifted her tone with perfect control. She could have been a master actress.
"Hahaha! It's fine. Call whenever you like, Silvia."
"Thank you. Hearing your voice made me feel better. I'll call again another time. I'll let you go now."
With that, Silvia raised her right hand and gave a light flick of her fingers in the air.
Beep.
The sound of a call ending. She had used magic to mimic the disconnect tone.
The call was still connected.
"Whew. Nearly gave me a heart attack. Why the hell is she calling out of nowhere?"
"Baby, hurry up and keep going. Forget about that bitch, okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. You don't have to nag—I'll take care of you. Just wait."
"Ahh… baby, it feels so good♡."
A woman's lewd moan spilled from the Communication Stone and filled the hall.
Crackle.
Red Lightning coiled around Silvia's right hand.
BOOM!
The crimson bolt slammed into the Communication Stone. The stone—and the table beneath it—shattered into fragments, silencing the moans for good.
"Marquis Bellot. Was that your wife's voice? You are a victim in this as well, so if you simply tell the truth, I will not hold you responsible."
"…Yes. That was my wife's voice."
The banquet that was supposed to announce Silvia's engagement had instead announced her fiancé's affair.
And the man responsible for all of it—Rix—watched the wreckage with an utterly indifferent expression.