Chapter 4.10

A knock sounded at the attic door.  

Liz, who had been sleeping on the sofa, flinched awake.  

This had become routine lately.  

Whenever she was alone, she felt endlessly drowsy.  

But she couldn’t fall into a deep sleep, so even the slightest sound startled her awake.  

After a moment, a corner of the broken door creaked open.  

Just enough space for a single plate to fit through.  

Through that gap, a plate of food was slid inside.  

Liz lay on the sofa, staring blankly at the plates.  

The shabby plates sliding across the floor resembled those given to prisoners in confinement.  

Yet ironically, the food on them was elaborate.  

Warm soup, meat and vegetables, her favorite tea and desserts.  

It was no different from what she used to eat before everything fell apart.  

This fact wasn’t comforting. If anything, it felt mocking.  

Liz sighed deeply and rose from the sofa.  

She staggered over, picked up the plate, and sat at the table.  

It was strange. Liz had always been the type to lose her appetite when stressed.  

But lately, no matter how much she ate, she couldn’t seem to satiate her hunger.  

Even if it was because of the physical toll he took on her, it was excessive.  

It made her feel even more miserable, as if she had become some kind of beast.  

Liz tore a piece of bread absentmindedly.  

“…Huh?”  

Inside the bread was a small note.

Liz unfolded the trembling note with her hands.  

If you want to leave, eat all the apples.  

If you want to stay, leave the apples untouched.  

Dissolve the note in water to erase the ink.  

The crooked handwriting made it difficult to identify who wrote it.  

Perhaps due to the temperature, the letters had faded to a pale brown.  

Liz alternated her gaze between the note and the apples.  

Who could have placed this note here?  

Gerald was the first to come to mind.  

It was likely that someone with easy access to the kitchen, like Martha or Kate, had assisted in the plan.  

Liz followed the instructions on the note and placed it in the washbasin.  

The brown ink dissolved into the water, and the note returned to its original white.  

It was as if the note was telling her that if she left, Winchester would also return to how it had been, as if nothing had happened.  

Watching this, Liz quietly reached for the apples.  

She fiddled with the bright red apple for a long time before opening her mouth.  

The soaked note fluttered and sank to the bottom of the water glass.  

***

Some time later, at the hunting festival held at the Second Prince’s villa,  

Isabel stood beside Valentine, dressed beautifully.  

“It’s been a while, Duchess of Winchester.”  

“Oh my, didn’t I see you at the Winchester art auction? I thought I greeted you then….”  

“Ah, ah…. That’s right! Of course. Haha. Hahaha.”  

Isabel acted as if she had never left Winchester.  

Somehow, she had learned every detail of Liz’s actions at Winchester and claimed them as her own.  

The times when Liz had lain sick in bed, the incident with the turntable where she had been electrocuted, the visits to the art gallery, the theater, and the ballroom—all those memories now belonged to Isabel.  

“Ah, Madame, it’s the first time I’ve seen you since the performance.”  

One nobleman, realizing Isabel’s intent, quickly attempted to flatter her.  

Isabel naturally nodded her head and responded to his words.  

“You must mean the ‘Phothos and Himeros’ performance?”  

“Yes. What did you think of it, Madame?”  

Isabel pretended to think for a moment before opening her mouth.  

“It was truly remarkable. Especially the group dance in the second act—it was breathtaking.”  

“Ah…. Yes, indeed, it was.”  

The nobleman answered awkwardly. Isabel noticed his hesitation.  

‘Did I say something wrong?’  

But there was nothing wrong.  

That day, the performance Liz—or rather, Isabel—had seen was ‘Phothos and Himeros’.  

Isabel had also seen the performance in the past, so she knew the content well.  

Moreover, she had even double-checked the details of the performance through newspaper articles.  

The storyline hadn’t changed significantly from its premiere, and this season’s second act’s group dance had received particular praise.  

Isabel glanced sideways at Valentine.  

Valentine was smiling, as if he knew something.  

“Well then, I’ll go prepare now. Yes, please enjoy yourselves.”  

The nobleman, sensing the awkwardness, discreetly excused himself.  

He had made a mistake but didn’t know what it was, which made it all the more frustrating.  

Isabel clenched her fists and trembled in anger.  

At that moment, Valentine lowered his head slightly.  

“You should know your limits.”  

Isabel flinched.  

Valentine whispered softly, his face still smiling.  

“At that time, you and I didn’t see the group dance in the second act. That nobleman seems to have realized that.”  

“Why…? There’s no reason… How could he have known?”  

Isabel asked, her tone confused.  

Valentine chuckled lightly and spoke in a low voice.  

“Well, there’s no reason for me to tell you.”  

Valentine placed his hand firmly on Isabel’s shoulder.  

It wasn’t a gesture of affection. It was a pressure meant to weigh her down.  

“So don’t act recklessly. Just stay quietly in your place. Do you understand?”  

But Isabel forced herself to scoff.  

“…Hmph.”  

She spoke loudly, as if for others to hear.  

“Oh my, how embarrassing, speaking like this in front of others….”  

Isabel pretended as if she had just heard sweet nothings from him, holding his hand.  

Valentine pulled his hand away with a look of disgust.  

Isabel didn’t miss the chance and withdrew herself.  

“Well then, I’ll be at the partner’s table.”  

She walked haughtily toward the outdoor table where the partners were gathered.  

The people watching began to murmur quietly among themselves.  

But Isabel didn’t blink an eye.  

Instead, she raised her chin high and sat at the head of the partner’s table.  

Valentine shook his head slightly in disapproval and headed toward the participants’ section.  

While Isabel quickly drew the attention of those at the partner’s table, exchanging greetings with familiar faces, Valentine remained silent in the participants’ section.  

It wasn’t that people were excluding Valentine. No one dared to speak to him.  

The way he silently polished his firearms made him look almost menacing.  

“Now, participants, please begin the hunt. The participant who captures the stag with the largest antlers will be today’s winner!”  

The sound of a horn marked the start of the hunting festival.  

The participants, rifles slung over their shoulders, approached the outdoor table where the partners were gathered.  

The partners tied ribbons to the participants’ wrists or rifles.  

Valentine, too, approached the table with a long rifle slung across his back and a pistol at his waist.  

“Well then.”  

Of course, Valentine didn’t engage in any affectionate exchanges.  

He simply nodded briefly out of courtesy.  

Isabel extended her hand, holding a ribbon.  

“Take this….”  

“No need.”  

Valentine’s face hardened as he turned toward the hunting grounds.  

Isabel turned her head.  

“Ah.”  

Her face brightened.  

The person bringing Isabel’s shawl from afar was none other than Kay.  

Kay, momentarily startled upon meeting Valentine’s gaze, gave an awkward wink and draped the fox-fur shawl over Isabel’s shoulders.  

Isabel raised her chin, flaunting it.  

Valentine, looking dumbfounded, asked in disbelief.  

“…You brought that all the way here?”  

Isabel shamelessly nodded.  

“Well, it’s cold since we’re on the ridge. I called my escort knight and asked him to bring my shawl.”  

“No.”  

Valentine pressed his hand to his forehead. Then, gesturing toward Kay with his chin, he asked,  

“That. I mean ‘that’.”  

Kay scratched the back of his head awkwardly.  

But he didn’t argue with Valentine.  

Kay knew better than to get entangled with Valentine.  

Instead, Isabel stepped in.  

“What do you mean by ‘that’? Please show some respect for my escort knight.”  

“Hah.”  

Valentine let out a hollow laugh, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  

Isabel shrugged her shoulders.  

“Well, it’s a hunting festival, so I brought my escort knight. Is that so strange?”  

In truth, many participants had brought their escort knights.  

But Kay was far from an ordinary escort knight.  

Valentine, in a mocking tone, asked,  

“Oh, is that the dignity of the Duchess of Winchester?”  

Isabel retorted sharply.  

“Isn’t it more embarrassing to attend a hunting festival without even a single escort knight? If you didn’t like it, you should have assigned me a different knight beforehand.”  

Valentine stared at Isabel coldly, without answering.  

Isabel, in turn, boldly met his gaze.  

Onlookers glanced at the two, but Kay, seemingly uninterested, yawned.  

After a moment, Valentine sighed quietly and looked around.  

The spectators quickly cleared their throats, either leaving for the hunting grounds or averting their gazes.  

Valentine spoke in a low voice.  

“Fine. A wise decision. My skills aren’t what they used to be these days.”

He spun his rifle skillfully in his hand and gripped it.  

Then, pressing the barrel against the table beneath Isabel’s stomach, he added,  

“My hands might slip, after all.”  

“Oh, oops.”  

Valentine looked down at the ground.

Right in front of his feet, a dagger was embedded.

Kay scratched the back of his neck.

“Dropped it. ‘That.’”

Kay narrowed his eyes and grinned slyly.

A tense atmosphere wrapped around the three people.  

It was Valentine who broke it.  

“…Dropping a blade is no different from dropping one’s honor. Not that I expect ‘that’ to have any sense of it.”  

Valentine turned away with a bored expression.  

What would come of struggling for dominance with these people? In the end, it meant nothing to him.  

There was only one tug-of-war that held any meaning to him.