~Chapter 84~
“…Eva.”
“It’s only natural to help a friend in trouble.
Even if it were a stranger—hearing something this outrageous—I’d jump in to help.”
Her sharp retort left me speechless.
Evangeline’s eyes narrowed, cutting like blades.
“What are you apologizing for, saying you’re sorry just because you’re in trouble?”
“B-but…”
“No buts! None of this is your fault to begin with!”
The words struck me like a blow to the head.
…She’s right. This isn’t my fault.
The realization sank deep into my skin.
The one in the wrong was Gregory.
I was merely the unwilling victim caught in his scheme.
Of course I needed to do what I could to resolve the situation—
but there was no reason to be so harsh on myself.
“So don’t you dare say that again. Understood?”
Her voice was firm, almost fierce.
I lowered my head and nodded.
“…Yes.”
Evangeline watched me with pity, then deliberately raised her voice, as if to lighten the mood.
“By the way, have you had dinner yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Perfect! I haven’t either.”
She looped her arm through mine with a bright smile.
“When you’re in a bad mood, the best cure is good food. How about steak? Or maybe some chicken?”
She chattered cheerfully, doing her utmost to cheer me up.
For the first time that day, I felt myself able to smile.
Gregory, meanwhile, was in rare high spirits.
That’s what you get for trying to run from me.
Humming a tune, he stepped down from his carriage and into the Gusto townhouse.
The marriage registration had gone through smoothly.
He had even proposed to Laritte in front of everyone, loud and grand.
By now, society would surely take their relationship as a settled fact.
Just as planned.
Soon enough, Laritte would be his.
Time to teach that arrogant girl a lesson.
He was grinning at his own fantasies when a stern voice cut through.
“Gregory.”
He froze mid-step, about to enter his room.
“Father?”
At the landing of the stairs stood Count Gusto, gazing down at him with an inscrutable expression.
Then the Count turned, beckoning.
“Follow me.”
A short while later, in the Count’s study.
“What were you thinking?” the Count snapped.
“Proposing to that girl Laritte with such a ridiculous display?”
“I just came up with a brilliant plan.”
Gregory’s tone was excited.
“If I register the marriage first, then I’ll have time to persuade her, won’t I?”
“What?”
The Count’s face twisted in fury.
Gregory hurried on with his explanation:
With the registration, Laritte would be bound to him legally.
While the court reviewed the case—which would take years—he’d have time to sway her.
True, Laritte had vehemently denied any consent.
She had insisted she never agreed, pointing out that if she had, she would never have sent the annulment letter in the first place.
So yes, in the end, if it went to trial, he would likely lose.
“But annulments and divorces both take about three years of legal review, don’t they?
And three years is more than enough to secure the Viscounty of Ansie.”
Gregory smirked, shrugging.
“What can she really do? Keep resisting? Even if she presses the case, it’ll only drag Ansie’s name through endless scandal.”
He knew Laritte well enough.
Her sense of duty and love for her house ran deep.
The very idea of her family name becoming fodder for gossip would torment her.
“So all I need is to confirm our marital status legally, and then…”
Glancing sideways, Gregory expected to see his father’s approval.
But something was off.
Huh?
The Count’s face was reddening by the second, fury rising like a tide.
“You dare… call that a plan?”
“…What?” Gregory blinked.
Bang!
The Count slammed his fist onto the desk.
“If you’re going to pull such a stunt, the least you could do is check whether it was properly handled!”
“F-Father?!”
“You caused a mess this big and didn’t even make sure it was done correctly?!”
Gregory stammered, bewildered.
“What… what do you mean?”
“The papers you submitted were faulty!”
“What?!”
Gregory’s eyes went wide.
“The Bureau contacted me directly! Do you ever do anything right?!”
“F-faulty? That’s impossible—”
His pupils trembled violently.
He had been certain everything was perfect.
Back when Laritte had clung to him, she had entrusted him with even her most personal details—
enough for him to fill out the forms accurately.
Even the Marriage Bureau had raised no objection at the time.
The Count clicked his tongue.
“Regardless, I smoothed it over. For now.”
“S-so… the registration with Laritte still stands?”
“Yes.”
The Count nodded, then fixed him with a stern look.
“So focus on one thing only:
Keep that girl Laritte Ansie bound to you. No mistakes.”
“Yes, Father.”
Gregory bowed, pale-faced.
The Count muttered under his breath, almost to himself.
“Perhaps it’s for the best. The Viscounty of Ansie is far too valuable to let slip away.”
“…Pardon?”
“You weren’t entirely wrong.”
The Count stroked his chin, voice low.
“After all, the registration’s already in place. What can they do now?”
His gaze lifted to his son.
A foolish, pathetic second son—
with not a single admirable trait.
But still.
If I can use him to seize Ansie’s Viscounty…
It would be worth it.
The Count patted Gregory’s shoulder twice.
“So don’t mess it up again. Understood?”
It was the first time Gregory had ever heard words of encouragement from his father.
His face lit up with delight.
“Yes!”
Meanwhile, Seraphina was sunk in deep misery.
Ever since her humiliation at Bailey’s Restaurant,
not a single gathering had welcomed her.
“…How could Gregor treat me like I don’t exist?”
She had shut herself in her room for a week, even skipping meals.
And yet Gregory hadn’t once checked in—
not about her health, her sleep, her meals. Nothing.
“He’s so cruel!”
Her outrage flared—
only for her stomach to growl loudly.
Grumble.
Scowling, she staggered up from bed.
“Hah… I’m starving, and still he doesn’t even show his face.”
Normally, a maid would prepare at least a light meal.
But the Lopez Barony was far too poor for that.
To hire a servant in the shared townhouse, you also had to rent them a room.
She couldn’t afford it.
Once, she had lived lavishly thanks to the Ansies and the Gustos.
But no longer.
“This is infuriating.”
She stomped irritably toward the door.
Cooking was out of the question—she’d never so much as boiled water.
She’d have to buy something to eat.
But when she stepped outside—
Huh?
Seraphina frowned.
Something about the atmosphere felt strange.
