Chapter 82. Cheap Story

“Yes, I am Marco from the Almand Merchant Group.”

The man who was pointed out introduced himself with a smooth smile. Aster stared intently at him.

Marco, who seemed to be around Aster’s age, was quite young. Despite being a newcomer to the Black Shadow, he exuded an unusual aura.

Though not certain, Marco appeared to be the most dangerous among the ten people identified today. His inscrutable smile was slightly unsettling.

Aster asked nonchalantly, as if the decision was beyond his control.

“The Duke suggested collaborating with your merchant group. What do you think? Will you take it on?”

Coincidentally, the Almand Merchant Group was at the top of the list provided by the Duke. Unaware that Aster was investigating the Black Shadow, the Duke aimed to choose the fastest distributor.

For Aster, pretending to follow the Duke’s orders while tracking the Black Shadow was convenient.

Marco raised one arm to his chest and said,

“If you entrust it to me, I will do my best.”

“Good.”

Aster readily agreed and signed the documents granting the magic stone distribution rights to the Almand Merchant Group.

Then, pretending to shake hands, he examined Marco’s wrist. Confirming the Black Shadow tattoo, Aster nonchalantly withdrew his gaze. The only strange thing was that his tattoo lacked a red stone.

* * *

On the day of the Almahar Foundation’s 100th-anniversary performance, Paris sighed as he finished preparing to leave Apelli.

Paris was still reluctant to go to the countryside. His head throbbed from drinking heavily again last night.

The smell of alcohol was overpowering even from a distance. Isabelle adjusted her son’s attire and advised him.

“Rest well in a nice place. I’ll call you back to the capital once things are settled.”

“Are you sure they said they would leave?”

“Yes. So don’t worry about anything.”

Recently, Paris had also been caught up in the backlash from the Shepherd Gate incident. It was Paris who had enthusiastically promoted the Blanche family.

Paris sighed deeply in his opera viewing attire.

“Do I have to go to the performance? He’ll be there too, won’t he? It’s uncomfortable.”

Isabelle patted his shoulder as he whined.

“What can we do? Your father ordered it.”

“Phew.”

Paris displayed his displeasure openly. Originally, he was supposed to leave today.

However, the Duke suddenly ordered him to attend the performance, delaying his departure by a day. The Duke probably thought it would make a good impression on the Letia family if the entire Blanche family attended.

Feeling like a cow being led to slaughter, Paris headed to the theater. When the Blanche family arrived, the theater staff guided them to the box seats.

Paris tried to sit next to the Duke, but the Duke stopped him.

“Aster, you sit here.”

“……”

Aster nodded slightly and took the seat.

Paris glared at Aster, clenching his fists in humiliation. He trembled with rage. The seat next to the Duke was always his at official events.

Even after Aster came to Apelli, the Duke usually seated people by age.

So naturally, that seat should have been Paris’s, not Aster Blanche’s.

“Paris.”

Isabelle called his name softly, gesturing for him to sit next to her. Paris swallowed his curses and sat next to Aster.

Isabelle and Camilla then sat beside them. The box seats were excellent. As Alyssa had said, it seemed the Letia family had put a lot of effort into them.

After a brief announcement and the orchestra’s tuning, all the lights went out simultaneously.

Then an actor appeared, delivering a passionate performance of song and acting. But as the story progressed, Isabelle and Paris’s faces grew pale.

The content of the Almahar Foundation’s ambitious original play felt strangely familiar.

The storyline was roughly as follows:

The female lead, born into an ordinary rural family, marries the most handsome man in the village and lives contentedly until she meets a nobleman at a city party she attends by chance. This encounter leads her to be torn between two men.

The man who loves me, or the man who makes me shine.

The actress’s aria¹ an accompanied, elaborate melody sung (as in an opera) by a single voice, reflecting this conflict, resonated with delicate yet passionate notes.

The lyrics mostly expressed dissatisfaction with her current husband.

“My dreams are broader and higher, so why do I settle here? Ah, if only I were the wife of that splendid gentleman.”

After attending the party, the woman completely changes. Not only does she became discontent with everything she once appreciated, but she also runs away upon discovering her pregnancy.

And the place she heads to is the hotel where the nobleman is staying.

After spending a night with the gentleman, the heroine pretends her husband’s child is the gentleman’s and leaves for his country, ending the first act.

“……”

Isabelle trembled with clenched fists. The original play’s content was clearly her story.

Her heart pounded wildly, wondering what the second act would reveal. Fortunately, the Duke seemed oblivious.

Though she wanted to storm out, doing so would arouse the Duke’s suspicion. Feeling like she was sitting on pins and needles, Isabelle waited for the second act to begin.

And when the second act started, Isabelle found it even harder to maintain her composure.

* * *

As the play progressed, I could feel Isabelle stiffening more and more. After all, it was a creative play that contained her story.

Anyone who wasn’t a fool would have realized it by the end of the first act.

The second act began with the protagonist commissioning the assassination of her family for the sake of her own success. It was a stark contrast to the ending of the first act, which was wrapped in the guise of a beautiful love escape.

“Oh, I will be reborn! Like a splendid red rose blooming in a greenhouse, I will live beautifully.”

Having killed once, the woman’s actions became unrestrained. Not satisfied with being recognized as the legitimate wife after giving birth to a son, she committed all sorts of evil deeds, causing trouble for the gentleman.

She even tried to kill the gentleman’s legitimate heir, but instead faced backlash and was expelled from the family when all her misdeeds were revealed.

The story ended with the destitute woman living as a street beggar with her son, yearning for the glory of the past. On the surface, it appeared to be a well-structured tale of poetic justice.

Though slightly altered, the symbolism in the story made its meaning clear to the person involved.

“Ugh.”

At that moment, Paris clutched his head and groaned, bending over. It seemed he too had realized the content of the play.

I glanced at the Duke. His face revealed nothing. However, his expression was too stiff for someone simply enjoying an opera.

“Almahar is nothing special. To think they would make such a cheap story their main feature.”

The Duke yawned with a bored expression. It seemed he found the content dull and didn’t connect it to himself.

After all, he firmly believed Paris was his son, so the story would have little impact on him.

I observed the surroundings as a third party. Isabelle, with a pale face, pressed her lips together and replied.

“Indeed. It was so boring that I almost fell asleep.”

“Well, if you consider it an ordeal for the sake of the reception, it’s not too bad.”

Soon, the actors gathered on stage in small groups. The audience stood up and applauded.

The Duke of Blanche also stood and clapped. At that moment, Paris, who had been sitting hunched over, suddenly stood with a pale face.

Without waiting for anyone to stop him, he stormed out of the box seat. The Duke frowned at Paris’s sudden departure. Judging by his expression, it was clear he was displeased with everything Paris did.

When Isabelle subtly tried to follow Paris, the Duke stopped her.

“Why follow a guy who’s just gone to throw up from drinking too much?”

“But…”

“There are many eyes watching. Just stay put and smile. The Marchioness of Letia has been looking over here for a while.”

The Duke of Blanche seemed more concerned with making a good impression on Letia than with his son’s condition.

Isabelle glanced between the direction Paris had disappeared and the Marchioness of Letia in the adjacent box seat, but reluctantly stayed put.

Naturally, Paris was nowhere to be seen at the reception that followed. It seemed he had fled in shock.

Just then, Alyssa appeared with Joseph as her partner. I watched the dynamic between Isabelle and Alyssa with great interest, as if it were an entertaining show.