“Why don’t you sit and have tea with us? Just for a little while? I’d love to hear your thoughts on the current trends.”
“Your Highness.”
Evangeline saw right through her. Perhaps not quite as clearly as she did with the Duke of Theseus, but the Princess was a rational woman—someone who stood in direct contrast to Evangeline’s own nature. Still, there was one reason she couldn’t simply turn her away.
“We’re practically family, after all. Surely you can spare that much time?”
…Family?
The Revan Viscountcy was a distant branch of the House of Teje—so far removed that it was laughable to consider them kin. And yet, in this house where bloodlines were everything, even the most remote ties were clung to and honored as if sacred. That had been the norm long before Evangeline stepped into the duchy, and it wasn’t a tradition she could disregard at will.
“I’m sorry, Your Highness,” she said gently, “but I have urgent matters to attend to today. I’ll need to take my leave.”
She could only afford to care for others when she herself was safe. She had never ignored her duties toward the Teje family before—surely they could let this one pass.
“Then please, take your time and look around,” came the reluctant reply.
“But, Duchess! If you keep acting like this…”
The countess looked startled, clearly not expecting such a firm refusal. Her cheeks flushed as her companions cast side-glances, their expressions filled with awkward discomfort.
“Actually, there was something I wanted to speak with Young Lady O’Hara about—just the two of us…”
“Later.”
Everything was exhausting now. Whatever it was the countess wanted to say, Evangeline could guess. It likely involved some excuse to cling to the newly released jewels, twisting them into a ‘gift’ she would be forced to provide.
You were spoiled from the beginning.
Ever since her engagement to the Duke had been announced two years ago, her father had shown leniency to anyone affiliated with House Teje. Viscountess Revan wasn’t the only one—he had never taken money from a single member of the Duke’s family who came knocking. When she had complained, her father, Count O’Hara, had simply smiled and said:
“The worst pain is being betrayed by those close to you. So even when you know you’re being deceived… you let it happen.”
“But—”
“The easiest relationships,” he continued, “are the ones you can solve with money, my princess.”
He was right.
After losing her wealth, she found herself missing those simple, transactional relationships. Her chest felt heavy, and she stepped out toward the entrance to catch her breath.
Why was the sky so cruelly blue?
Her world had crumbled, her family ruined—and yet the world outside remained unchanged. It all felt like a dream she couldn’t wake from.
“Young Lady O’Hara, please don’t be like this. Just come with me for a moment…”
“Countess, please!”
Leave me alone.
Evangeline was stunned by the woman’s obsessive insistence. She had been raised never to let her emotions show recklessly, but even she had her limits. When Philip, trailing nervously behind her, hovered as if unsure what to do, her stomach twisted.
“Your Grace, we should return quickly. This is no place for you.”
“Why is everyone…”
Evangeline was just about to speak—truly speak her heart for the first time—but she never got the chance.
Before she could utter a single word, her head was yanked backward.
“Ah—!”
A chorus of horrified screams rang out as the countess and several other women cried out in alarm. But Evangeline, whose hair had been seized in a violent grip, couldn’t even manage a sound.
…What’s happening?
She hadn’t even registered what was happening before another blow was struck. The woman dragging her out of her quiet, dreamlike world was as wild as the pain in her scalp.
“You evil, wretched girl! Bring him back! Bring back my son!”
◇ ◆ ◇
Evangeline had never known violence.
Corporal punishment, common in most noble childhoods, had never touched her. Her father, Count O’Hara, had cherished her far too much to allow anyone—servant or kin—to lay a hand on her. Not once, not even in a moment of anger.
So the assault earlier that day had left her reeling.
“Your Grace! You must let us tend to your face first!”
“…”
“Please, here—apply the ice, at least to reduce the swelling…”
Philip’s anxious voice echoed faintly from across the carriage.
Evangeline sat in silence, her eyes unfocused, her fingertips brushing lightly against her cheek. A scratch—shallow, but bleeding slightly—told her she must’ve been raked by the woman’s nails.
Oddly, she felt no pain.
Her mind was too clouded to process anything. Only when Philip handed her an ice pack did she return to herself—and began piecing the memory together.
“While you were living in luxury, my son became fish food in the sea! If someone had to die, it should’ve been your father! Not my son! My only child!”
She must’ve been one of the sailors’ families…
The memory of the woman’s voice clawed at her more viciously than her nails had. Evangeline recalled her foaming at the mouth, shouting, shaking her by the collar.
God…
She couldn’t breathe at the thought. She had never imagined something like this would happen to her. But what shocked her even more was the speed with which the Duke’s knights had arrived—as though they had been watching the entire time. They swiftly dragged the woman away.
“…Did His Grace order all of this?”
“L-Lord Decarno did…”
“I see.”
It all made sense now.
The smooth operation of the Duke’s estate, the still-open jewelry stores—none of it was coincidence. It had all been orchestrated. Only one man in the empire could maintain such an illusion so perfectly: Decarno von Theseus.
So she wasn’t surprised to find his secretary, Michael, waiting for her at the annex. Nor did she resist when Michael informed her the Duke wanted to see her.
He returned today—of all days.
The timing said it all.
He knew everything.
“I told you not to leave the estate.”
His voice came from the window, flat and emotionless. He didn’t seem concerned with her injuries—only with the fact that she had disobeyed him.
Evangeline exhaled slowly, stunned.
“So I was supposed to stay locked up indefinitely? You were gone. I had no way to contact you.”
“So? You went out, and now you’ve seen what you wanted to see?”
“…”
His question felt like a slap. She turned away, trying to hide the raw scratches on her cheek, shame and pain rising together.
“Your Grace, you may be too busy to care about such things, but I’m not. My father is my only family.”
“Only family?”
“Who else is there?”
She met his eyes, hoping for something—anything—to soften in his gaze. But Decarno’s jewel-toned eyes remained cold, unreadable. She laughed bitterly, pressing her fingers to her brow.
“My mother left long ago. I don’t even remember her face. I have no siblings. So yes, I’m alone.”
“…”
If the former Duchess were still alive, things might’ve been different. She had been a cold, proud woman—but she had opened her heart to those she considered hers.
And now even she was gone.
There’s no one left beside me.
At least, not in this house.
“…Regardless,” she said quietly, “I can’t just sit still like this.”
“You think I’ve been sitting still? It would’ve been far easier if you hadn’t gone out.”
“And how long is this meant to last? Until I find my father’s body?”
“No,” he said flatly. “Until our wedding.”
“…Ha.”
Marriage.
In this situation?
