Chapter 9

Betty went to the pawnshop and pawned the necklace to get money for her aunt’s treatment.

She thought she’d save up and reclaim it someday.

But considering the treatment would require ongoing expenses, it was, in reality, a promise without any certainty.

‘It’s pretty much the same as giving up…’

As she tried to suppress the sorrowful resignation over her situation, time passed mercilessly.

Then one day—

It was Vivian Charte’s birthday, and also the death anniversary of the Duchess of Charte, who had died shortly after giving birth to her.

Despite the shower of gifts, the noble lady sat in her room all day, staring at the overcast sky, looking melancholy.

After dinner, she seemed to regain a bit of energy and abruptly said to Betty:

“You can go now.”

She had unusually rushed her bath and kept glancing at the door. Betty could easily tell that there was another meeting scheduled tonight with that knight.

“Yes, my lady.”

“Get some rest.”

Lady Charte, brushing her hair in front of the mirror at this late hour, offered an uncharacteristically kind farewell.

Though it likely meant, “Don’t even think about loitering around this room again tonight,” rather than any sincere wish for rest.

“…Wait.”

The red-haired woman paused while holding a hair ornament, her expression thoughtful.

After a short silence, she asked an unexpected question.

“Has my brother or father said anything?”

“No, my lady. Shall I inform them you’re looking for them?”

From the morning, both Duke Charte and Lord Felix had been too busy with their own schedules to even offer a simple greeting to Vivian.

All they had done was add their gifts to the pile in the corner of her room.

As if they were strangers, not family.

“No. Forget it.”

With her knees pulled up and arms wrapped around them, Lady Vivian’s back looked especially fragile and delicate.

“Why should I care about people who don’t even notice what I do? It’s pathetic.”

Suddenly, Betty started to wonder if there was a reason behind Vivian Charte’s often spiteful behavior and penchant for causing scenes.

Maybe it was all a desperate attempt to gain her family’s attention.

After all, Felix had frequently shown up to clean up after the messes she made at parties and social gatherings.

Though always with a very annoyed and tired expression.

“I’ll take my leave now.”

It seemed Vivian wasn’t even aware she was showing her vulnerable side.

So Betty deliberately kept her farewell brief and quietly closed the door as she left.

“Sigh…”

Leaning against the now-closed door, Betty let out a deep sigh.

People truly had many sides to them.

Vivian’s harsh and sharp personality was real, but so was the delicate part of her that desperately yearned for her family’s affection.

Then, as Betty unconsciously squeezed her hand, the envelope she’d forgotten she was holding crumpled slightly.

“Oh no. I can’t damage this.”

Inside the envelope were a few dried wildflowers.

Vivian had lost interest the moment she saw what was inside.

—I thought of you when I saw these.

The letter seemed to have been written on a whim after someone saw the flowers during a walk, and it left a quiet, touching impression.

‘I know he didn’t really send them because he thought of me…’

Yet Archduke Ian Dayban remembered the contents of past letters with astonishing accuracy.

Today was no different.

She distinctly remembered writing once that while the roses blooming in the ducal garden were beautiful, their scent was sometimes so strong it gave her a headache.

And that was why humble wildflowers caught her eye more at times.

Though he never replied directly, he had a subtle way of showing he remembered.

“Still, I’m relieved.”

She had deeply regretted sending her last letter, which she’d written in a moment of emotional turmoil.

She had been worrying about how the archduke would respond ever since.

‘I’m glad.’

Betty felt a quiet sense of relief at his simple letter, which made no mention of the previous one.

It was treated as just another part of their ongoing correspondence about daily life.

“Sir Roderick.”

Just then, as she walked down the stairs lost in thought, Betty nearly bumped into one of the duke’s knights.

“Oh. Right.”

The brown-haired man gave a lazy nod and brushed past her.

He was heading up the very same stairs she’d just descended.

‘It’s him.’

He was the one she had seen kissing Lady Vivian, and the one who’d accompanied her on the picnic.

Betty was already sure of it, but she quietly stopped on the stairs and looked up between the banisters to confirm.

Sir Roderick passed the second floor, where the duke and Felix had their offices, and subtly checked his surroundings.

Then, without hesitation, he continued up toward the floor where the lady’s room was located.

Betty briefly considered the possibility that she was jumping to ridiculous conclusions.

‘Really? Is the lady… really?’

She knew she shouldn’t be curious. She had decided to turn a blind eye.

But the “what if” in her heart led her steps to the lady’s bedroom door.

“…Rick… tonight, I feel…”

“Let me make you feel better…”

Though the voices were faint, the rustle of clothes could be heard between the exchanges.

It wasn’t hard to guess what was happening.

“Mmm… Roderick. Come up. Don’t just stand there.”

Their relationship had likely been going on longer than Betty had thought.

Even though she’d nearly been certain, hearing it directly made a world of difference.

Betty leaned her head against the wall for a moment, needing to gather her thoughts. Her mind went blank.

So the reason Vivian Charte had absolutely no interest in Ian Dayban was because she already had a lover.

And that lover was a knight serving in this very mansion.

Just then, a commotion began to rise from the lower floors.

It probably wouldn’t be heard by the lovers, so wrapped up in each other behind that door.

But Betty recognized the voice that rose through the clamor immediately.

“…Where’s Vivian?”

It was Felix Charte.

For some reason, he had returned and was asking for the lady as soon as he arrived.

“She’s resting in her room. Shall I have a maid inform her that you’re looking for her?”

“No. I’ll go myself.”

His voice, quiet at first as he spoke with the butler, grew louder as the sound of his footsteps approached.

Given their pace, he’d be upstairs in moments. There was no time to waste.

Betty turned back, grabbed the doorknob, and flung the door open.

“Pardon me, my lady. There’s something urgent.”

Through the sheer curtains draped around the bed, she could make out two figures hastily moving.

“What’s going on?”

Vivian, now wrapped in a shawl, met Betty’s eyes squarely.

“My lady, your brother is on his way up.”

The lady’s face hardened. She closed her eyes briefly, then opened them, and said in a surprisingly composed tone:

“My dear brother, of all possible moments, he had to choose now.”

“I think Sir Roderick should leave quickly.”

Betty, casting a glance toward the window, hinted that he might have to escape that way.

Vivian lowered her gaze but remained still.

“…My lady, I’ll take my leave now.”

The brown-haired knight, hurriedly fastening his clothes, stood up quickly.

He even opened the window, as if seriously considering jumping out.

Only then did Vivian uncross her arms and sigh deeply.

“If you break your leg jumping from there, you won’t be able to work as a knight. Just go into the dressing room. He wouldn’t go as far as to open that.”

Though her tone was sarcastic, her constant fussing with her hair showed she was clearly nervous.

Just as Roderick disappeared into the dressing room, there came a knock at the door Betty had closed behind her.

“My lady, Lord Felix is here. May he come in?”

“Let him in.”

Vivian replied in an astonishingly calm voice. She even sat naturally in front of her vanity before the door opened.

“The house is quiet. I take it you haven’t caused any incidents today.”

Felix Charte entered, speaking indifferently as always.

Vivian clenched her dress tightly. The trembling of her hand was visible only to Betty, who stood right beside her.