Chapter 08 …
Helena didn’t hold back. She set down her glass and quietly slipped toward the terrace connected to the garden.
The terrace was designed so that the entire garden could be seen at a glance, yet the trees surrounding it prevented anyone outside from seeing in.
From inside, however, the view outside was clear, and even the smallest sounds carried well.
Helena chuckled slyly in her mind.
“Count, have you let your guard down? This is still my territory.”
Fortunately, Count Isspern and his attendant seemed to be talking right below the garden trees that surrounded the terrace.
Helena pressed herself to silence, straining to catch their voices.
“…You seemed quite pleased. It appears you liked the woman you are to marry. That’s fortunate,” the attendant said with a ceremonial note of congratulation.
Count Isspern… reacted far more sharply than necessary.
“Nonsense.”
Helena felt a flicker of confusion.
And then, the next moment:
“This marriage is for money anyway. Nobles are just disgusting.”
Helena’s mouth fell open.
She could hardly believe what she had just heard.
But Count Isspern hammered the point home.
“She’s the epitome of a licentious noblewoman. Parading around men as if she were some kind of queen—pathetic beyond words.”
The Count’s mouth didn’t stop.
“Seeing her pleased at the sight of my face, I thought I could just toss her into the guest wing and occasionally pretend to check on her.”
“The guest wing? What if she asks for a divorce then?”
“By then, she’ll have spent all her dowry. She can leave empty-handed.”
“Still cold-hearted, as ever.”
The attendant, seemingly accustomed to such remarks, switched to business.
“Speaking of which… the gate passage fee. Considering that on the way back, we’ll have to cover the Countess’s share as well—can this be managed within the budget?”
“What? We’re out of money already?”
“Your Excellency’s ceremonial attire rental was more expensive than expected.”
“Expensive, indeed. I didn’t think renting scraps of cloth would cost so much.”
Helena couldn’t listen any longer.
Like a ghost, she rose from her seat.
She couldn’t comprehend what had just happened. Staggering as if walking through water, she returned to the banquet hall.
The guests, leisurely enjoying the feast, raised their glasses and cheered at her appearance.
“Miss Winston! Congratulations on your marriage!”
“I saw you two dancing earlier. You make a truly lovely pair.”
“Hahaha! You’ll be leaving for the south after tomorrow’s wedding, I assume? Your marriage is wonderful news, but the capital will feel emptier.”
Helena stared at them blankly.
People noticed that her face had turned pale, almost bluish, and approached her in concern.
“Miss Helena, are you all right?”
She opened her mouth but then closed it. Words failed her.
Finally, she said,
“…I’m sorry. I don’t feel well. I need to rest.”
Ignoring the worried nods of those around her, Helena exited the banquet hall and headed to her room.
Her waiting maids greeted her with bright smiles.
“Miss, how was it? Count Isspern!”
“And in person—did he really look that handsome?”
Helena silently sank into the chair at her dressing table.
Her maids, busy removing her makeup and jewelry, chattered without pause.
“I’ve never seen you so lost in thought. Our Miss has fallen in love…!”
“With the man you’re marrying tomorrow, no less!”
“Eek!”
“You two must be happy together!”
After tucking her into bed and filling her headboard with congratulatory words, the maids left.
Alone, Helena muttered:
“…That bastard…”
Benjamin Isspern was a bad man.
He had used his handsome looks to bewitch her, to steal her breath, all while scheming to betray her before the wedding.
A marriage for money? How could he say that…?
He hadn’t smiled at her—he had smiled at the prospect of her dowry rolling into his hands.
“Bastard…!”
Helena bit the edge of the sheet tightly.
She knew sleep wouldn’t come from anger.
I won’t forgive him. You’re dead. This is war…!
If this was war, Helena had the upper hand. As he had said himself, he only saw her as a stupid dowry sack.
He messed with the wrong person.
A fiery blaze ignited in Helena’s green eyes.
She would marry him.
As an agent of Empress Clarissa, she was confident in uncovering just how vile and malicious Benjamin Isspern truly was.
He seemed too poor even to cover her share of the gate fee, so at least until the massive dowry was spent, he wouldn’t dare mention divorce.
Benjamin Isspern, your life will be divided into before and after marriage. Once I gather evidence of all your misdeeds, I’ll discard you with utmost cruelty…!
Turning on her side, slipping one hand between the bed and the nightstand, Helena couldn’t help but laugh.
“Hohohoho! By the time that day comes, licking my shoes and begging won’t help you…! …Kooooh.”
With this pleasant delusion, Helena quickly sank into a deep sleep.
Helena slept soundly, but back at the banquet hall, Count Isspern missed his chance to leave and was cornered by Helena’s followers.
“Welcome, Count Isspern.”
“Will you have a drink?”
“You must have one first.”
Benjamin, unable to hide his wariness, said,
“I’d join you, but tomorrow is my wedding.”
At his words, veins popped on the foreheads of the men surrounding him.
Someone laughed heartily.
“Exactly! A wedding! So you must drink heavily.”
“Now that you’ve brought our Queen, there’s no escaping punishment.”
“Alcohol is a must at a blessed wedding!”
At that moment, all the men were of one mind:
To take down the seemingly cold-blooded Count Isspern and drag him, crawling, into the hall.
“…If you put it that way, I suppose I have no choice.”
But Count Isspern, with a dazzling face and body that could tempt any man, had an incredible tolerance.
Drinking continuously as his followers pushed him, he seemed like the very incarnation of Bacchus, the god of wine.
Helena’s followers screamed in despair.
“…Cards…! A gathering like this can’t be without gambling…!”
“Ugh… Poker…”
“Ugh…”
Even the god of gambling seemed to favor Count Isspern. He won every hand.
Eventually, Helena’s followers were emptied of everything in their pockets.
The men had only the rising sun to watch as their bellies bulged with alcohol and their efforts yielded nothing.
They were delirious.
The sky turned yellow. Only dust remained in their pockets, while their stomachs were full of alcohol.
Every breath brought up alcohol through their noses, and every movement made their stomachs slosh.
To them, Count Isspern, with an utterly composed expression, asked:
“Now are you satisfied?”
All that remained for them was stubbornness.
Sir Stan, Helena’s most devoted follower, forced a laugh.
“Hahaha, the real fun starts now.”
The surrounding stragglers looked at him as if he had lost his mind, but he ignored them.
“Do you know that the Winston estate’s hunting grounds are quite famous? The Count himself takes great pride in them. Now that you’ve come this far, you must see them, shouldn’t you?”
Count Isspern, leisurely crossing his long legs, twisted his lips slightly.
“…Hunting is tedious, though.”
He gathered his coat and rose.
“If it’s a must-see, then I suppose I shall.”
His languid voice, tinged with reluctance, somehow stirred a competitive spirit.
The men collapsed around him, but slowly, one by one, they stood again, rekindling their resolve.
“Haha, you find hunting tedious? Burwood’s hunting grounds must be remarkable indeed.”
“….”
“And since it’s the hunting festival, why not hold a light hunting competition to sober up a bit?”
“Oh, excellent idea!”
“Hoho, I know these hunting grounds inside out.”
“Understandably so. You must have visited the estate countless times just to catch a glimpse of Miss Helena…”
“….”
“….”
