Chapter 4 – Part 4

Olivia tapped the bars with her fingers.

“You should be grateful I have a sense of ethics. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here intact.”

Intact? Harry wondered if he had heard wrong. He tried to argue, but Olivia cut him off.

“Enough whining. Did you order Kellic to steal the bomb?”

“What nonsense is this? Kel… who?”

“Still playing dumb, huh? I’m talking about Kellic, the knight who planted the bomb in the demilitarized zone. He already confessed.”

“That’s bullshit! What are you even talking about?!”

Harry flared up, but Olivia just shrugged nonchalantly.

“Kellic is your guy. Explaining more is tiresome. Refuse to confess, and your sentence will double.”

“What…?”

“Oh, Harry, look over there!”

Olivia exaggeratedly pointed to the end of the corridor. Several men were being dragged by guards.

…Every single one of them was a familiar face.

“That one gets 127 years, and that one gets 135 years!”

“……”

“These are the guys who embezzled taxes, committed assaults, and imprisonments under your orders. Your new cellmates will keep you company.”

Olivia proudly boasted about the makeshift cemetery she had set up in the prison. Harry was at a loss for words.

“You know, Harry, I despise those without shame. I abhor false repentance. While I don’t love the world, if there’s one thing I can do for it, it’s burying scum like you so decent people can live happily.”

Her demeanor suddenly grew heavy, no longer theatrical.

“So, Harry.”

“……”

“If you were going to do bad things, you should have been prepared for this.”

Her tone wasn’t playful anymore. Harry found it hard to stay standing.

“Oh, and one last thing before I go. Why did you laugh during the trial, Harry?”

He was desperately clinging to the bars like a lifeline. Olivia tapped the bars as if knocking.

“You laughed unpleasantly just before the explosion. You knew something, didn’t you?”

Harry kept his head down, hiding his expression. Olivia turned away, not expecting much.

“Not that I ever got any useful information out of you. Maybe thirty years in here will make you a better person.”

‘If you’re still alive by then.’

Olivia murmured as she started to walk away.

“…Abyss.”

“Hmm?”

She turned her head slightly, annoyed by his muttering.

“Why don’t you suspect him?”

“Speak up. I can’t hear you.”

Olivia sighed, sticking her hands in her suit pockets. She didn’t want to see his face—not here, not anywhere.

He’d probably just spout more nonsense. As her thoughts began to drift, she heard it.

“Gael Abyss.”

Harry pressed himself against the bars, his face lifeless.

“Kellic is someone Gael Abyss planted through me. Why don’t you suspect him?”

***

Olivia found Harry Palmer’s gaze filthier than the moldy prison air.

It wasn’t just because he couldn’t die alone. Harry’s core was too murky and vile to be simply called cowardly.

“Abyss planted someone through me, saying he was worried about your safety. You think I brought all those lackeys in?”

Harry laughed maniacally. Olivia leaned against the wall, gesturing for him to continue.

“Love, my as$. Abyss was pocketing money. You were dumb enough to be deceived by him. When he distanced himself, you cried like the world was ending, clinging to him. You were… just that kind of woman.”

“Wow. Should I cry now? I don’t really feel much.”

Olivia was indifferent. She genuinely didn’t feel complicated. Adding Gael Abyss to the list of suspects was simple.

“Done talking? Bye, Harry.”

Olivia smirked, waving her hand.

“What if I have concrete evidence that Gael Abyss did it?”

So persistent. Olivia admired Harry’s tenacity. As he leaned forward, the bars creaked.

“I’m serious, Olivia. I know that Gael Abyss… planned to trap you…”

Concrete evidence.

Olivia stared at Harry. It amused her how his desperation only surfaced when dragging someone else down with him.

She slowly approached the bars. Harry Palmer’s wrists were much thinner than before. Olivia stood in front of the cell.

Harry grinned.

“Finally…”

“……!”

Olivia’s eyes widened. With a sinister laugh, Harry’s grip tightened around her neck.

“Finally, I get to kill you!”

Harry’s hands shot through the bars, clamping down on her throat before the guards could react.

***

Gael Abyss despised the atmosphere of the count’s manor, a sentiment that had taken root one sunny afternoon during a tea party.

As the late Count’s youngest son, Gael was expected to find a suitable match early on to ensure an heir. The count had dragged him to every social gathering imaginable.

While Gael naturally had an interest in women, he loathed the idea of being forcibly led to marriage by his father. This aversion made him averse to socializing in general.

This attitude extended to the young Marchioness as well. Despite her striking red hair and beautiful eyes, Olivia Charbert looked out of place in her dress. To him, she was always a timid woman, easily torn apart by others’ criticisms.

“How dare you point a knife at someone!”

That was when Gael saw a different side of Olivia.

At a modest baron’s tea party, a madman barged in, brandishing a knife at the guests. Among those nearly injured was Olivia’s maid.

Olivia had swiftly disarmed the intruder, her movements precise and swift. The dress that once seemed awkward now flowed like a blazing flame in the wind, blooming like a flower in its flurry.

Although that loyal maid was later demoted to another household by Harry Palmer, it was from that day forward that Gael began seeking Olivia to escape the oppressive air of the count’s estate.

If it weren’t for Ronae, he would have already been happily married to Olivia.

“This is all your fault. What should I do with you?”

Gael looked down at Ronae, who was sleeping on the sofa. He had stopped by the baron’s residence before heading home, only to find Ronae napping peacefully instead of waiting for him.

“Maybe I should keep you under my thumb forever instead of breaking the spell. But Olivia has lost her memory.”

Gael chuckled softly. Olivia’s survival had been unexpected, and her amnesia even more so. It was both good and bad news at once.

“Pray earnestly, Ronae. Your fate depends on Olivia’s actions from now on.”

He brushed his hand lightly against Ronae’s cheek before leaving the room. Ronae’s delicate eyelids fluttered.

***

Allowing Harry Palmer to choke her was part of Olivia’s strategy to understand the man’s mind, even if it meant suffering an inconvenience.

By observing his reaction—whether he showed regret or anger—she could determine how wary she needed to be of him. As the plan formed, she decided to use Harry Palmer accordingly and willingly let him grab her throat. Then, she casually broke his wrist again.

“Ugh! Another fracture!”

“Arghhh.”

Harry Palmer was all skin and bones. Olivia sneered at him.

‘Pathetic. Letting a paper doll like you grab my neck had a purpose. I didn’t fall for the trick of getting closer to the bars out of sheer stupidity.’

Of course, Glenn had scolded her thoroughly. Despite being older, he often sounded like an elder with every word.

He wanted to know her dangerous plans, wished she would delegate risky tasks to them instead, and scolded her for not sharing her intentions sooner. She barely restrained herself from asking when he had become so devoted to her.

“You remind me of my sister.”

Her cherished family from her past life. Illehan reminded her of her late grandmother, while Glenn was reminiscent of the sister who had to grow up too fast.

Seeing his guilt over not being able to do more mirror her sister’s expression, Olivia decided not to argue with him. Besides.

“What a mess! What if it had been more serious?”

“When did you start worrying about me so much?”

“Well, as your attendant, I must be concerned about you.”

Melanie was bustling about like a worried friend, making Olivia tired. Perhaps it was because she had transformed herself so much that Melanie had grown attached to her. Olivia scoffed.

Regardless, Melanie diligently applied ointment to Olivia’s neck.

“Anyway, Marchioness, you need to take care of yourself. If it had been more serious, we would have called a doctor regardless of your objections.”

“Hmm, this isn’t something the Marchioness needs to hear.”

“As a Marchioness, you should hear it. You know how chaotic this house was during your six-month absence.”

It was more of a lament than a reprimand. Considering Harry Palmer’s antics, it was no wonder she felt detached.

“Maybe it’s because I didn’t get the chance to serve you up close, but I don’t ever want to see Charbert House without you again.”

“Oh, that’s quite a touching speech.”

Olivia’s praise made Melanie blush deeply, flapping her arms like a fledgling bird.

“Well, the ointment is applied, so I’ll take my leave now.”

“Confessions are always welcome, Melanie.”

“It’s not like that!”

Melanie flushed red, almost combusting as she fled the room. Olivia chuckled to herself, finding the situation amusing.

‘If I can keep winning them over like this, I can do it even more.’

For Olivia, who had mastered social interactions, getting close to people was not an uncomfortable task. While the regional vassals were a bit clunky, the servants were generally diligent and kind-hearted.

Even if there had been little trust in her, that was in the past. She could win them over from now on. The prickliness was merely a remnant of the fears that had accumulated in this family.

‘It’s not people like Glenn or Melanie who are the problem.’

Olivia’s concerns deepened. She had dealt with Harry Palmer, but that was only the beginning. She had to hire new people to replace those who were ousted, among other myriad tasks.

‘Gael Abyss.’