ITTRAETML 38

~Chapter 38~

The one speaking to her was a woman about Lovelace’s age. She had wavy brown hair falling down her shoulders, stood proudly, and looked Lovelace up and down. It felt like she was evaluating her.

“Who are you?”

“Garri Handrake.”

The woman only said her name and lifted her chin.

Ah, Lovelace remembered seeing her earlier at the entrance.

Recognizing Garri, Lovelace gave a slight nod and tried to pass by.

“Hey.”

Garri called after her.

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? They say you lost your memory, but it seems you lost your manners too. I’m the only daughter of the Handrake family. A Princess of the Empire.”

Lovelace wondered who was higher ranked—a Count or a Princess. Garri’s attitude made it seem like she outranked Lovelace. But in the novel Lovelace knew, Counts and Princesses weren’t really compared.

In any case, Lovelace had no intention of getting involved with Garri. She certainly had no thought of romance.

“Alright then, Lady Princess. Enjoy the banquet.”

She waved lightly and began to leave, but Garri chased after her.

“Let’s talk.”

“You’re asking me for a favor, then?”

Lovelace stepped closer.

“You want to talk to me, right? That’s a request.”

Garri frowned, as if confused.

“When you ask for something, you should do it politely. Right now it sounds like you’re picking a fight.”

Lovelace kindly explained. Normally she would have just ignored this, but since her soul was twenty-five years old even if her body wasn’t, she thought she should act like an adult.

‘I’ve become such a nag,’ she thought, regretting it immediately.

Garri smirked.

“If it sounded like I was picking a fight, then I made myself clear. I am picking a fight.”

“…What?”

“Do we have some history? Sorry, I lost my memories. If I wronged you in the past, I’ll apologize. Otherwise, excuse me.”

“There’s no history.”

Lovelace’s eyes narrowed.

“We’ve never met before. This is our first time.”

“Then why are you picking a fight…?”

“Are you dating Sir Larvihan?”

Lovelace paused. Ah, so that’s what this was about. She pieced together Garri’s attitude, their words, and Larvihan. The answer was obvious.

“You like Larvihan.”

“What woman wouldn’t?”

She had to admit it. Larvihan was handsome—especially tonight in his formal suit. His dangerous eyes made the neat attire even more alluring.

A man who looked good in anything now looked even more striking—no wonder women lost their composure around him.

Garri looked annoyed under Lovelace’s steady stare.

“Do you have something to say?”

So she picks a fight and then asks her if she has something to say? Lovelace didn’t bother replying. She simply waited. Jealous people always made mistakes—and when Garri slipped, Lovelace would strike back.

“I asked, what is your relationship with Sir Larvihan?”

What could she say? Engaged? Kissed? Slept in the same bed? All true, yet none defined them.

Just then, a voice cut in.

“She’s my fiancée.”

Larvihan appeared, placing a hand on Lovelace’s waist. Garri didn’t flinch even at his arrival.

“Then tell me, is there no chance you’ll change your mind?”

“There isn’t.”

Larvihan’s reply was sharp and firm.

Garri pressed again. “Please reconsider.”

Larvihan turned to Lovelace.
“She asks me to reconsider, Rey. What do you think?”

So he could answer firmly a moment ago, but now he pushed the absurd request onto her. Typical Larvihan.

“Lady Princess, that’s very rude.”

Lovelace tried to be patient. Garri scoffed, testing her restraint. Lovelace felt her temper fraying.

She sighed.
“Larvihan, step aside a moment. No—better if I step out. Lady Garri, shall we talk?”

There were too many eyes at the banquet, and she needed to protect her reputation. She couldn’t afford a scandal over something so petty.

“A love triangle at a banquet? Really, what am I doing with my life?”

“Fine. Let’s talk.”

Garri followed her out. Guests whispered as they left.

“Isn’t that Lady Handrake? She usually ignores these parties.”
“Looks like she’s interested in Countess Harmelda.”
“No, it’s the Duke Handrake’s order. Everyone knows she’s his puppet.”

The gossip was loud, but Garri walked on, unconcerned. Lovelace decided to hold her tongue until they reached a quieter place.

“This should do.”

She pulled her shawl tight. Garri also closed her jacket against the chilly wind.

It was almost comical—two women about to duel in words, but both shivering in the cold.

“I’m serious. I decided long ago that I would be Sir Larvihan’s bride. I suit him better than you do.”

Garri spoke smoothly, clearly rehearsed. Her youthful face was firm with determination.

Lovelace’s blue eyes studied her silently. Was she serious? Or delusional?

“Why the sudden casual tone?”

“When two women fight over a man, why bother with formality? It’s a mud fight anyway.”

Lovelace was speechless. She didn’t even feel the urge to reply.

“Know your place.”

Garri smirked, thinking she had the upper hand. But Lovelace stepped forward, her shadow falling over Garri—who was smaller by a head.

“The one who doesn’t know her place… is you.”

Her smile resembled Larvihan’s own mischievous grin.

“I’m the Empire’s only Princess…”

“And I’m the Empire’s only female Count.”

“Your title will vanish once you marry. But I’ll always be a Princess, as long as my father lives.”

“Wrong. The law changed. Married or not, I’ll remain Count of Harmelda.”

Garri’s eyes widened. She hadn’t read the news lately and missed this. She cursed her own laziness.

“Even so, I suit Larvihan more. You’re too busy running your estate. I have none—so I can stand by his side.”

“It just sounds like you’re a landless Princess with nothing to your name.”

Garri clenched her fists, furious. Lovelace knew she had already won. Childish as it was, victory was still sweet.

“My father is Duke Handrake!”

“So your only asset is your father? You keep bringing him up—now I’m curious. What exactly does he do?”

Garri gasped. Someone in the Empire not knowing her father? Impossible.

“I lost my memory,” Lovelace said smoothly, building her excuse.

Garri sighed deeply. “Fine, I’ll explain. My father is head of the Handrake family, one of the three great dukedoms. He’s a Grand Magician, one of the deputy masters of the Mage Tower.”

Handrake… Lovelace repeated the name. It felt familiar. She was sure she had read it somewhere.

Then it struck her.
“Ah!”

Garri placed her hands on her hips, proud.
“Now you see how great my father is?”

Lovelace smiled brightly.

“Oh, I remember. He’s that bastard who tried to kill Larvihan, right?”

She was so happy to finally recall a detail of the novel that she forgot—she had just blurted that out to his daughter.