PHATFO 07

[Chapter 7]

Whether my wish had been granted, or Charlotte simply figured she wouldn’t get anything good from staying longer, I didn’t know. The carriage left, and I was dragged back into the mansion.

“Talk! What happened back there? What kind of nonsense did you use to win him over?! Tell me everything!”

Charlotte, furious and exhausted, threw me to the ground. I sniffled, not bothering to fix my messy hair.

“H-He’s way out of my league. There’s no way I could’ve seduced someone like that. The young duke just noticed I didn’t have a carriage to return with, so he offered help. He… he also said he wanted to apologize to you.”

“Apologize…? He said he wanted to apologize to me?”

Charlotte flinched, then quickly narrowed her eyes and glared.

“You expect me to believe that?”

“You’ll hear it yourself at the next party. Why would I lie about something so easy to confirm? And seduction? Seriously, would someone like him ever fall for someone like me? You’ve got me beat in both looks and status.”

“…Well, that’s true.”

Charlotte looked me over from head to toe, then seemed relieved and sank into the sofa. I must’ve looked pretty pitiful.

“He said he felt bad that someone from his household mistreated you and asked me to give you this…”

I trembled as I pulled out the invitation from my dress—just to seal her misunderstanding.

“H-He told me to give you this.”

Charlotte snatched the envelope from me and checked it over.

“What? This is from the Marquess of Akar?”

Her eyes went wide at the sight of the invitation.

This wasn’t just any ball invitation.

Though the Akar family belonged to the southern territories, they were close to the east. Every year, the Marquess of Akar hosted a charity auction, and only reputable individuals were invited to raise the prestige of the event and its items.

Wealthy nobles, high-ranking officials, socialites, and even famous actors were among the attendees.

In other words, this invitation was proof that Charlotte had finally become a recognized figure in eastern high society.

Before my return to the past, Charlotte had desperately wanted this invite—but never got one, and it ate away at her.

Now her eyes sparkled with excitement.

“R-Really? He really gave this to me?”

“Yeah… He asked if there was anything I wanted as an apology, and I said you’d probably love this invitation. I mean, how else would I have gotten it?”

Just as she always did, I played myself down—and that was enough to ease her doubts. She smiled.

“Well, yeah. Someone like you.”

After checking the invitation a few more times to make sure it was real, Charlotte stood up.

“Even a worm has its uses, huh? You were actually helpful for once. I’ve got nothing more to say—go on, get out.”

“Th-Thank you.”

I shot up as if I’d been waiting for that.

The real reason Charlotte wanted to go to that charity auction was to showcase her artwork. She believed that if she could get her paintings in front of important people from all over the Empire, she’d gain recognition across the country—just like she had in the East.

Ironically, all of her reputation had been built on works painted by someone else.

And I planned to expose that truth again, just like I did before I died.

For that moment—I could endure anything. To pull the future forward, I’d do whatever it took.

‘Just watch—I’ll drag you all the way down.’

Hiding a crooked smile behind my hand, I returned to my room.

Later that night

When I went down to the basement to care for Ahfwyn as usual, his condition was terrible.

Charlotte must’ve taken out her humiliation from the duke’s party on him.

“Oh my gosh… Are you okay? Wait—why are you looking at me like that?”

I rushed to check on him, but Ahfwyn was actually looking at me instead.

“What happened to your hair?”

That’s when I realized I hadn’t fixed my hair after Charlotte had yanked it earlier.

“Oh… I think Charlotte was in a bad mood today.”

“That woman lays hands on maids too?”

“To be honest, there aren’t many people in this mansion who haven’t been hit by her.”

Maybe the count and countess were the only exceptions.

I casually replied, but then I realized why Ahfwyn was so fixated on my hair.

“Wait a second… Are you worried about me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I worry about you? Who do you think you are?”

He snapped back, visibly flustered.

“I was just curious. You looked different today.”

He didn’t realize—the more he denied it, the more suspicious it sounded.

“Aha…”

I sighed dramatically and muttered like I was hurt.

“I forgot… There’s no one in this world who ever cared about me…”

Ahfwyn didn’t fire back with a cold remark like I expected. Instead, he looked… uncomfortable. Like something had gotten under his skin.

Whether it was pity or some kind of self-projection—I didn’t know. Either way, if it made a crack in his heart, it was a good thing.

‘You ruin everything when you rush it.’

I decided to be content with this small win.

“Charlotte’s going to be busy for a while.”

Sure, the paintings would be done by her proxy artist—but she’d be busy pestering him to produce better work. She wouldn’t have time to check on the basement.

“Still, just in case, we should let your wounds heal more naturally. I’ll give you some herbs for pain relief again today.”

I watched Ahfwyn chew the herbs and got up. Compared to how he used to look at me with hatred and contempt, this was serious progress.

It made me secretly smile, just a little proud.

Then Ahfwyn asked:

“Are you coming back?”

“…Huh?”

“You didn’t say it this time.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll come back.”

That simple line must’ve stuck with him.

I smiled brightly.

“Of course. I’ll come back.”

Ahfwyn grimaced like my smile was a piece of rotten fruit. He looked genuinely embarrassed that he’d acted like a child, even for a moment.

“…Go.”

And time passed.

“Come on, get out! What’s taking you so long? Are you not ready yet?”

“Oh—sorry! I was wrapping the painting… Wanna check? This is the right one, right? The man with the sword?”

“Hey, that’s not just any man—that’s Emperor Wilhelm! Ugh, be careful! If that painting gets damaged, I swear I’ll kill you!”

“Y-Yes, ma’am.”

It was the day of the charity auction.