Chapter 8

Slap!

The sharp sound rang out.

Even just watching, chills ran down my spine—but I forced myself to stay composed on the surface.

Moretti’s scream filled the study.

“Ahhh!!”

“You rat! Who bribed you? Did Edmund promise you a future?”

“Wh-what are you saying…!”

The steward hurled down a book he had brought with him.

It landed in front of Moretti, its crimson cover stamped with the crest of House Cohen.

“The magic circle the Duke ordered to be taught to Edmund is this one—not what’s on this torn sheet.”

“…What?”

Stunned, Moretti snatched up the book and opened it.

The circle inside was completely different from the one she had taught Edmund.

It matched the one I had secretly destroyed earlier.

‘So that’s the real black magic.’

The cursed magic that would haunt and consume Edmund for life.

Seeing the true black magic circle, Moretti muttered blankly:

“What? Why is it different from the one I taught…?”

Anyone could see—the shapes and lines of the two circles were entirely different.

I explained to the steward, but also to Moretti—mocking her at the same time.

“While I was sitting in on lessons, I found it strange. The Duke clearly ordered Edmund to be taught black magic.”

“I did exactly as he ordered!!!”

“But Moretti was teaching him a white magic circle. I could tell—it’s the basic white magic I learned at the Academy.”

“No! That’s not true!!!”

She thrashed and denied it, but it was useless.

The evidence was right in front of us.

‘And Edmund himself already testified he learned this circle from his governess.’

Now, whatever Moretti said would only sound like excuses.

I finished like a loyal servant of the Duke:

“It was clear to me the governess had disobeyed the Duke’s orders with malicious intent, so I informed you, Steward.”

My eyes met Moretti’s. She finally realized.

“It was… you?”

“……”

“You switched the books!!!”

I only smiled.

‘Finally figured it out? Too late.’

Yes—over the past weeks, I hadn’t just sat quietly through lessons.

‘I swapped out the black magic books the Duke sent Moretti, replacing them with white magic.’

She was so careless in her teaching that it hadn’t been hard.
Between lessons, I slipped in and switched books one or two at a time.

The white magic content came partly from Cassia’s memories and partly from piecing together texts in the library.
It didn’t need to be perfect—just enough to look like ordinary magic, not black magic.

‘As long as it wasn’t black magic, it would look like she had defied the Duke’s orders.’

If Moretti had known even a little magic, it might have been harder.
But as I expected, she couldn’t tell black from white magic.

A few days ago, I’d even dropped a hint at the Duke’s estate, under the excuse of paying respects to Patrick.

“I think there may be an issue with what the governess is teaching Edmund.”

Not to the Duke directly, but to one of the steward’s men.
If this reached the Duke, the steward would be the one held responsible—since oversight of servants was his duty.

Naturally, he would be grateful to me.

And indeed, his response had been warm.

“You’ve done a great service, Little Madam.”

“It was only what I ought to do.”

That gratitude would be useful later. The steward oversaw all the villa’s staff and supplies, after all.

While he and I exchanged thanks, Moretti’s final protests were silenced.

“You! You set me up…! Mmph!!”

The servants shoved a gag into her mouth and dragged her away.

I waved cheerfully after her.

‘Goodbye. It’s been disgusting. Let’s never meet again.’

My hand wagged so quickly no one noticed my middle finger sticking up.

The steward left as swiftly as he had come, after thanking me again and again.

“As expected of the one who has caught Young Master Patrick’s eye.”

That part made me uneasy.

‘Did that shameless brat Patrick even mention me to the steward?’

When I’d visited the estate before, I’d claimed I was there to give thanks for Patrick’s earlier “kindness.”
The staff at both the villa and estate had assumed I was trying to gain Patrick’s favor.

‘They all misunderstood on their own.’

Luckily Patrick had been away visiting his mother’s family, so I hadn’t had to face him directly.
Still, I would have to be careful.

‘I mustn’t get entangled with Patrick like in the original story.’

I had no intention of becoming his lover—or of becoming a villainess.

‘Anyway, it’s not like we’ll cross paths again.’

Lost in thought, I stopped short.

Because right in front of me stood a boy.

His unkempt silver hair stirred in the gentle spring breeze.
Beneath long bangs, vivid red eyes stared straight into mine.

“Edmund?”

“……”

After a pause, Edmund finally spoke.

“Was it you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Moretti. What happened to her.”

Ah—he was asking about her being dragged away.
No wonder. The steward’s visit had caused a commotion. Even locked in his room, he would have heard something.

I shook my head. Playing dumb was safest.
There were always ears that could report back to the Duke. Talking openly in a hallway was too dangerous.

“No idea. It was sudden for me too.”

“…I suppose. You wouldn’t have that kind of ability.”

I bit my tongue. I do so have that ability!
But I held back.

He pressed on.

“…On what charge was she taken?”

“……”

I couldn’t say the truth.

In reality, Moretti had been expelled for “teaching white magic” because I had swapped the books.
But the official reason was “insulting the Young Lord Edmund.”

‘If he thinks she was punished for trying to help him, that could backfire.’

That might undo all the trust I’d worked for.
I couldn’t risk that.

So I shrugged casually.

“The steward said she disobeyed the Duke’s orders, so she was expelled.”

“……”

Edmund studied me in silence with heavy red eyes, as if trying to pierce through me.
Suspicion lingered in his gaze.

After a long stare, he finally turned and walked away.

Only then did I realize I had been holding my breath the whole time.

“Was it you?”

When Edmund asked Cassia about Moretti’s expulsion, he already knew the truth.

“Moretti. What happened to her.”

Not the official excuse—but the real reason.

Dragged away by the steward, locked in his room under guard—he hadn’t witnessed the full scene.

But Edmund Cohen was the sole legitimate heir of House Cohen.

From the corner of his room, he could clearly sense what happened in the villa.
A device embedded in the walls carried the sounds of distant rooms to his ears.

He had heard Cassia’s voice.

“While I was sitting in on lessons, I found it strange. The Duke clearly ordered Edmund to be taught black magic.”

“But Moretti was teaching him white magic. I recognized it as basic white magic from the Academy.”

The truth chilled him.

Black magic defied the natural order.
Its power was immense, but its side effects were deadly.
It could ruin his life—or even kill him.

‘To think my uncle wanted me to learn black magic… It’s exactly the sort of cruelty he would do. I’ll have to be even more on guard.’

It was true—the circles he had seen in the old textbooks were different from the ones Moretti taught.

‘I did glance at the new book when it arrived, but never tried casting it. Thank goodness.’

If Cassia’s words were true, then those earlier circles were black magic.

‘I never used them, nor did I plan to—so I should be safe.’

But the biggest question troubled him.

‘Still… Moretti would never have defied my uncle for my sake.’

This was Moretti—his tormentor since he was seven.
The one who beat and abused him so terribly.
The one he hated almost as much as his uncle’s family.

Yet she had supposedly disobeyed the Duke to teach him white magic instead?
And was punished for it?

‘Nonsense.’

Far more likely—

‘Someone set her up and had her removed.’

So who had done it?

Then he remembered.

During a lesson days ago, he had noticed Cassia making some suspicious move when Moretti wasn’t looking.

She had swapped one book for another.
And the cover color matched what he had seen today.

‘Don’t tell me… it was her?’