Chapter 90. The Epic of Revenge

Enoch strode over, pulled me away from Mercedes, and held me in his arms.

I looked up at him in surprise. Mercedes was equally bewildered.

She looked at me as if to ask, ‘Did I do something rude…?’ and I subtly shook my head. It’s just that this man is peculiar.

“What were you talking about that made you so close?”

“Um, personal matters.”

“Personal matters?”

He responded sarcastically, his eyes blazing like golden flames. Feeling awkward, I rolled my eyes, and just then, Marquis Norbert entered the powder room. He looked us over and quickly raised an eyebrow before speaking rapidly.

“What’s going on here? What’s the situation?”

“What are these personal matters?”

Their conversations were out of sync. Enoch ignored Marquis Norbert’s question and asked me again, while I licked my dry lips, trying to gauge the situation.

The fact that Mercedes was the writer Autumn Grace must not be revealed.

Meanwhile, Marquis Norbert passed by us and muttered to Enoch, “Why is this crazy guy acting up again…”

He stood by his lover, protectively wrapping an arm around her, while Mercedes continued to look at us with a confused expression.

Yet, there was a strange sparkle of vitality in her eyes.

…What is it? Did she get some inspiration?

“Answer me, Ellen.”

Enoch was relentless. I gently took his hand and put on a face that usually worked well. A timid, upward glance—this expression was very effective.

Sure enough, Enoch flinched slightly, his eyelids trembling. Seizing the opportunity, I quickly spoke.

“It’s a secret only women can share.”

“Huh…?”

“So I can’t tell you.”

I hugged the book tightly with both arms and slipped out of his embrace. Before Enoch could catch me, I quickly escaped the powder room.

I thought I heard Warren Norbert’s loud laughter behind me.

The book I had safely guarded was entrusted to Jasmine. Since then, I hadn’t had a chance to have an intimate conversation with Mercedes—Enoch was watching over me like a gatekeeper from h*ll, giving me no opportunity—so I had to exchange secret letters with her.

Perhaps I should be grateful that Enoch didn’t try to inspect my letters…

[The novel will be published whenever Your Highness wishes. So, what I’ve given you is essentially a draft.]

Mercedes, who asked for my opinion on everything and adjusted to my wishes, and the people at [Stellio] Publishing were all truly good people.

I usually don’t have much luck with people, but recently, meeting good people frequently felt incredibly miraculous and made me grateful.

I hope Mercedes’ novel does well.

Since it’s an adaptation, there are many differences from my actual story…

Still, the thought that traces of my life would remain in the world, even in this form… It brought me a bit of comfort.

I unfolded her recently arrived letter and leisurely read it. The letter contained Mercedes’ worldview on the romance genre. Opera singer Mercedes and writer Autumn Grace—these two seemed like entirely different people, even though they were the same person.

[As you know, romance is a genre often disparaged for various reasons. But I think that’s something said by people who don’t really understand what romance is.]

[Such people often criticize it. They ask what meaning there is in a story where the female protagonist ends up with the male protagonist.]

[I started writing novels to confront such criticisms head-on. The fact that a man and a woman end up together isn’t what’s important. What’s important is that the woman holds the initiative in love and triumphs.]

[Therefore, I dare say that romance is the epic of revenge for all women who have endured throughout history and in this era.]

In truth, even though I have always been an avid reader of romance novels, I had only approached the genre superficially, so Mercedes’ perspective was very intriguing.

Is it because she’s a writer? Even though I don’t know her well, Mercedes seemed like a person with unique thoughts.

I put the letter down on my desk and approached the low bookshelf in one corner of the room, pulling out a book. This book was one of Mercedes’, or rather Autumn Grace’s, representative romance novels, published two years ago.

At that time, I had saved up bits of allowance I could occasionally get from my father to buy this book.

I still vividly remember the excitement, the darkness of the night I stayed up reading, the light, and the noise.

I carefully opened the page where I had placed a red maple leaf bookmark. A sentence caught my eye.

[Love, the weakest thing, triumphed. Revenge was always achieved that way.]

* * *

“Hmm, the opera house… I see.”

Snip.

With an unhesitating snip of the scissors, the yellow canary’s wing feathers were cut off.

The poor canary, which had never flown since coming to this greenhouse and being caged, cried mournfully.

“It must be because of Marquis Norbert. His lover is an opera singer. The Marquis must have invited them.”

I never believed the eyewitness accounts of the Grand Duke and Duchess of Bayern looking affectionate. Such outward displays must be fake.

Those two are certainly putting on a show. They must have married out of mutual interest.

After all, the Enoch I know is not someone who would fall in love with anyone.

He doesn’t believe in love, doesn’t love anyone, isn’t desperate for love, and shines alone like a lofty star.

Who or what could possibly tarnish the high stature of the Grand Duke of Bayern?

Angela put down the scissors and smirked. Ellenore Lopez… that woman will soon be abandoned.

Like Violet in 《The Lady of the Camellias.》

The difference is that Violet died in the arms of the one she loved in the end.

Ellenore will not even enjoy such happiness…

“Inform the Palmen family. My father has decided to invest in the business we discussed last time.”

“Yes, Miss.”

“And the two daughters of Baron Lopez taken in by the Palmen family… I’m thinking of inviting Miss Melissa to the tea party this Tuesday.”

“Yes…? But, that…”

“I know. She’s not a match for my status.”

Angela smiled and picked up the scissors again. The light brown whistling bird struggled to escape her grasp. That attempt was short-lived.

Snip. With an unhesitating snip, the whistling bird’s wing feathers were brutally cut off.

Despite the bird’s pitiful cries, Angela continued cutting without changing her expression and spoke.

“Still, everything has its use.”

“…Yes, Miss. I will send an invitation to Miss Melissa for the tea party.”

“Prepare a gift too. Ah, make it a dress.”

“Yes, Miss.”

After the servant left, Angela placed the now-wingless whistling bird on her hand.

The bird flapped its wings a few times but soon became still. It must have realized it could no longer fly.

Angela smiled and stroked the bird.

“Good, that’s right.”

This suits you. Your fate is not to reach the sky or the stars.

Angela’s face, softly whispering, bore the same merciful smile as always.

* * *

“It looks like it might rain.”

Ellen murmured in a flat voice as she looked out the window, and Enoch dismissed it lightly.

Rain always comes.

It was nighttime, and Enoch had no intention of letting Ellen sleep early tonight.

After their lingering lovemaking, the two fell asleep around 3 a.m.

The problem arose about two hours later, just after 5 a.m.

Although it was almost time for dawn, the sky was dark due to thick clouds, and the fierce wind and rain battered the windows, with occasional thunderclaps.

Enoch woke up to the loud thunder that accompanied a lightning strike.

He frowned in his sleep and glared out the window, then suddenly shifted his gaze to the side.

And he saw it.

Ellen, who was clearly having a nightmare.

“…Ellen?”

Half-risen from his bed, he carefully called out to her, but Ellen did not wake easily.

She was pale, sweating profusely and looking distressed.

Does she have a fever? Alarmed, Enoch placed his palm on her forehead. Fortunately, her temperature was normal. But… she was sweating too much. And her hands were icy cold.

Like someone terrified.

“Ellen.”

Enoch grabbed her shoulders and gently shook her to wake her. Even so, Ellen wandered through her nightmare, her lips moving faintly. He could barely make out her murmurs.

Mother, no, I was wrong… Don’t go. Don’t leave me alone…

“……”

At that moment.

Boom, crash!

Lightning struck more fiercely than ever, lighting up the outside like daylight.

Ellen woke up with a gasp at that very moment. But she seemed to still be trapped in her dream, trembling with fear and clutching her nightgown tightly. It was as if she couldn’t see Enoch right in front of her.

Bewildered, Enoch quickly embraced her and soothed her.

Shh, it’s okay, calm down. His gentle words gradually eased Ellen’s trembling.

“…Are you okay?”

Enoch tucked her damp hair behind her ear and asked worriedly. Ellen, who had been staring blankly at him, soon filled her blue eyes with tears.

She clung to the front of his robe and mumbled.

“Enoch…”

He hesitated.

Not ‘Your Highness,’ but ‘Enoch.’

He had grown tired of correcting her, half giving up on her calling him that.

Hearing his name in her voice… felt strangely unfamiliar and made his heart tremble.

Enoch took a deep breath and hugged her tighter.

The fact that this woman, who’s waking from a nightmare, clung to him desperately as if he were her lifeline.

That fact was maddeningly gratifying.

Exhilaratingly so.