Chapter 52

“It’s rumored that the young lady had an accident when she was a child. It’s widely said she fell off a cliff while chased by a beast. But in truth, they say she was stabbed.”

“They say the person who collapsed at the banquet has a scar on her abdomen. Blasphemously, some people are using that to fuel their suspicions.”

“You asked me to inform you of rumors about the young lady… I hesitated to say anything, but I’m sorry to bring up such stories.”

If even Daisy, a maid, had heard of it, the rumor was bound to spread quickly.

How many people have heard it today? Did someone in this mansion know as well?

Even the servants avoided her gaze today—or was it just paranoia?

Just as in her nightmares, Bleria felt herself ensnared, wrapped in a web from which she couldn’t escape. Without the Duke’s permission, she couldn’t leave the mansion and only wait for Gopher’s reply.

“…”

Feeling suffocated, Bleria patted her chest. The light tapping turned heavier, eventually becoming almost self-punishing. Over and over, she muttered the name of the one who hadn’t replied.

He said to trust him. I have to believe. Everything will get better. Eventually… eventually…

A sharp pain sliced through her head. Groaning, she bent forward, then abruptly stood up, driven by an impulse.

She opened a drawer and pulled out a jewelry box. She hadn’t touched the inside since she became convinced Eos was a fake. It remained where it had always been. The uppermost layer was still neatly arranged with easily sellable jewels.

So you don’t want to resemble your wretched biological parents? She no longer had the luxury of clinging to such sentiments.

Should she run away, even now? But how? Could she succeed on her own? And what if she was caught midway?

At that moment, the image of a man with red hair flashed through her mind. Temptation crept up, coiling around her neck, but Bleria shook her head, driving it away.

“I have to find a way to talk to Gopher.”

Harriet hadn’t nudged her forward today, but Bleria clung to an answer from the past. She decided to visit the Allnight estate. They couldn’t keep claiming he was out every time if she waited there in person. Indeed, he’d spare a brief moment even if he genuinely wasn’t home.

First, she needed the Duke’s permission to leave. Though he refused to meet her, perhaps she could appeal through someone else.

“I’m sorry, young lady. His Grace has strictly ordered that your matters not be mentioned for now.”

Bleria froze at the butler’s words.

Not only had the Duke refused to meet her directly, he wouldn’t even allow others to relay her words.

If that was the case, then the Duke…

It wasn’t mere confusion anymore. He had already… A sharp ringing filled her ears.

“I see…”

Bleria turned away. The butler seemed to offer some words of consolation, but she couldn’t make out a single one.

If the Duke has decided I’m a fake, it’s over.

For a brief moment, she thought of the condition under which Damian had promised to release her. But hope didn’t even spark. The man who had been kinder to her had changed his demeanor when the Duke collapsed. She couldn’t trust that face anymore.

She couldn’t trust anything.

Like someone dazed, Bleria wandered the corridors without purpose. She turned a corner and stopped just short of bumping into someone.

“Harriet…?”

“Ah, Bleria.”

Harriet Heaven. To Bleria, she was like an older sister—someone who would generally greet her warmly and tease her playfully. The only family member who hadn’t yet turned away.

But even that final descriptor seemed to lose its meaning. Harriet didn’t smile at all.

“I have to meet with Demy. See you.”

Her voice was awkward, noticeably strained. Harriet walked past her, avoiding eye contact. Bleria reached out toward her retreating figure but grasped nothing.

Until recently, Harriet had embraced her warmly. Now, her sudden change could only mean one thing.

You’ve heard the rumors.

Perhaps Harriet had even confirmed their validity. As Damian’s wife, she wouldn’t find it hard to get answers.

It hurt less this second time, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt at all. Bleria stared blankly at Harriet’s retreating figure, then lowered her head.

She no longer knew what to do or what she could do. She couldn’t find her way like a child in a forest.

Her legs felt weak, as though she might collapse at any moment.

This has happened before…

Just then, someone touched Bleria’s shoulder. She looked up, half-hopeful, but the person in front of her was neither the elf-like servant nor her fiancé, who removed his mask only for her.

“What are you doing here?”

Crimson eyes, level with her own, gazed down at her. Mixel Luke had finally been released from the investigation. It must have been a moment of triumph to him, but for Bleria, it was the instant when even her last shred of hope drained away.

Losing even the strength to stand, she averted her gaze. She didn’t even feel anger at meeting Mixel Luke’s eyes.

“You’ve grown frail in just a few days. Are they starving you in Heaven? Or perhaps…”

Are you trying to tell a lie?

As Bleria, who had intended to ignore him and walk past, turned back, he grinned slyly and changed his words.

“…Or did your lord order you to save on food expenses?”

“…”

“Why are you glaring at me like that? You’re scaring me to death.”

Mixel Luke shrugged nonchalantly.

“You seem free. Care to escort me somewhere? Maybe that’ll spur Gopher to come running.”

Bleria glared at Mixel Luke with a dark expression.

“Who told you that Gopher hasn’t responded?”

“Have you already forgotten what I do?”

…The head of the intelligence division.

Pressing her throbbing forehead, Bleria mechanically uttered words she might typically say.

“You’re saying you’ve already received reports? Does that mean you’ve planted informants in Heaven? And come to think of it, how are you wandering alone right now?“

“I’m not alone. Over there—don’t you see? I told them to step back because I needed to speak with the young lady.”

He gestured to a distance. There stood a knight from Heaven whom Bleria had seen a few times before. As she glared at Mixel Luke, the knight noticed her gaze and bowed his head in greeting.

Receiving information in plain sight like this—it was as good as admitting there were spies in Heaven. Though she should have questioned him further, Bleria shut her lips. Such matters seemed irrelevant now.

Mixel Luke asked, “But why are you just waiting? If you haven’t replied, why not talk to him in person? Doesn’t it frustrate you?“

“Looks like you’ve only heard half the story.“

“You need the Duke’s permission to leave, but you’re not a child. What’s the worst that could happen if you lied once and stepped out?”

That…

As if aware that the knight was observing them, he leaned in and whispered near her ear, “Do you want me to help you sneak out?”

There was no way Mixel Luke’s offer was pure, so rejecting him would be the right choice. Yet, as though under a spell, Bleria found herself nodding.

***

After passing Bleria, Harriet turned from her path to the study and returned to her bedroom. She turned off the lights and pulled the covers over herself, but soon, there was a knock at the door. The person who had promised to come but hadn’t shown up had decided to visit her instead.

Harriet didn’t respond to the knock, yet the door opened anyway.

“I’m coming in, Harriet.”

Footsteps entered the room. The mattress sank slightly beside her, indicating that her husband had sat down, but he didn’t say anything. Harriet couldn’t endure the silence.

“I ran into Bleria. So I avoided her, just like you told me to.“

Bleria’s face had looked the same as always—unchanged. But unlike usual, there had been no footsteps following her hurried pace.

Had she been too shocked to move? Imagining that, Harriet’s face twisted in distress.

At that moment, a sharp pain tugged at her abdomen. Harriet curled up, and Damian, alarmed, quickly got up.

“Harriet!“

“Don’t… make such a fuss. I’ll feel better after resting a bit.”

This has happened often recently. It was too early for her belly to harden, so Amelia had said it was stress-induced abdominal pain, and she was usually right. The pain gradually subsided when Harriet relaxed her limbs and cradled her stomach.

When the pain finally faded from her face, a sigh came from behind her.

“You need to be careful now. Don’t concern yourself with Bleria.“

“Are you trying to use the baby to threaten me? Bleria’s the one who saved this child.”

“…”

“Damian.”

For the first time since Damian had entered the bedroom, Harriet turned to look at him. His face, usually expressionless like wax, now showed unease. His eyes wavered, and his furrowed brow trembled slightly. Seeing his expression gave her some relief.

When they discussed the rumors, Damian asked her to keep her distance from Bleria and not get involved, but he seemed utterly devoid of humanity.

Though she had reluctantly followed Amelia’s coercive advice to focus solely on the child, Harriet couldn’t bring herself to agree entirely.

When she reached out to touch his cheek, Damian lowered himself toward her. His cheek was cold and dry.

“I don’t want to judge or condemn someone based on rumors alone.”