PHATFO 16

[Chapter 16]

“That is…”

I acted like I’d just noticed their stares and quickly pulled my clothes over my shoulder.

“No! Charlotte didn’t do anything!”

After my outburst, silence fell over the room.

As the heavy atmosphere settled over me, I lowered my head to hide the smile creeping up my lips.

“Charlotte… you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment.”

I couldn’t hold back the joy bubbling inside me.

That night.

I went down to the basement to see Ahfwyn.

As things progressed with Charlotte, my relationship with Ahfwyn had changed a lot too.

He no longer ignored me or turned away.

“Are you hurt?”

He now actively checked on me and showed genuine concern.

His gaze was fixed on my right hand—the palm I scraped when I fell at the tea party. Madam Hilton had treated it herself.

It was like a token of our secret alliance—her recognizing me as her ally.

“Yes, but I still won.”

“Then… this is a medal.”

“Something like that. Will you be proud of me?”

Ahfwyn let out a short laugh.

But only for a moment. Then, as if remembering something, his expression changed.

“Come to think of it, you mentioned before that you had something important to do. Was this it? Earning a medal on your hand?”

“No, not exactly. But I guess it’s related in some way.”

Ahfwyn stared deeply at my hand. Like he had something to say, he fidgeted with his fingers.

But instead of saying it, he changed the subject.

“By the way, I heard a lot of yelling earlier.”

“There was a good reason for it.”

His conversation skills were awkward, but I let it slide.

After all, what he was curious about was something I wanted to explain anyway.

Earlier, around noon.

Because of my outburst, Charlotte had come under suspicion and started freaking out.

Exposing her use of a ghost painter was already a headache—but if it also came out that she abused her adopted cousin, the scandal would only get worse.

“What…! Why are they saying my name now?!”

Charlotte, flustered, tried to approach me. I backed away nervously.

“You—say it properly—!”

Once again, Camilla stopped her.

“Please sit down, my lady.”

“And who are you to give me orders?”

“I simply know that Lady Rohilton has no right to strike another lady.”

“What does that have to do with you?!”

Charlotte looked around and saw nothing but hostile eyes.

She realized there was no point staying in a room full of people who clearly weren’t on her side.

“Fine, it seems everyone wants me to leave, so I will.”

She leaned around Camilla’s shoulder to glare at me.

“Get up, Bella. We’re going home.”

But Madam Hilton blocked her.

“If you want to leave, then go alone, my lady. You’re not a child—do you really need your cousin to accompany you?”

“What…!”

“But if you’re truly uncomfortable, I’ll help. What are you doing, girls? Help the lady to her carriage.”

The maids approached Charlotte at Madam Hilton’s command.

Realizing she was about to be dragged to the carriage, Charlotte panicked and stepped back.

“Never mind! I can go myself!”

She stormed off to the carriage and rode away.

Even then, she didn’t forget to glare at me and mutter that I’d “die once we get home.”

I acted scared and stayed seated. There was no more reason for me to follow her anymore.

Three hours later.

“This should be enough.”

When I thought the timing was right, I stood up.

“Excuse me… I think I should be heading back now.”

Camilla, who had stayed quiet most of the tea party, looked up.

“Will you be all right going back?”

“Huh?”

“I just… worry.”

What she meant was, was I going to be okay with Charlotte once we got home?

Wanting the rumors to grow, I pretended to hesitate—and Madam Hilton chimed in.

“Yes, my lady. Why not stay the night instead? There are plenty of spare rooms.”

“Thank you for your kindness, but I have something I must do at home.”

Watch the show, of course.

Whether she saw my firm resolve or only meant the offer lightly, Madam Hilton didn’t press further.

“If that’s your decision… I won’t stop you. But please send word anytime if you change your mind.”

“Thank you, Madam.”

“I’ll be waiting too. If you ever need help, don’t hesitate to come to me.”

I could guess why Madam Hilton was being so kind. I helped her take down Charlotte.

But I wasn’t sure why Camilla was being so considerate.

“Did I look that pitiful to her?”

If so… was this pity?

It didn’t bother me. Sometimes, pity can be valuable.

I gave Camilla a polite thank-you and returned to the mansion.

Thanks to staying long enough at the tea party, the mansion was in complete chaos by the time I got back.

At the center of the chaos was the Count.

He was someone who often left the estate for business or club meetings—so it was rare for him to be home.

“What is going on here?! Tell me, Charlotte! Since when has that lowly painter been sneaking into my house?!”

It seemed the Count had heard the rumors from the tea party.

Though only a few hours had passed, it was already all over the Eastern district. Madam Hilton had clearly done her job well.

“P-Please calm down, dear…”

“You think I can calm down right now?!”

The Countess tried to soothe him, but it was useless.

His angry shouting shook the entire house, while the servants barely even breathed, terrified of what might happen.

His mood, usually as pleasant as a sunny day, had changed in a flash—no one knew how to handle it.

“Old man Cops told me this—‘Your daughter’s skills are so amazing, I’d love to learn her tricks. How can I become a fraud like her?’ Can you believe it?! Why should I have to hear such things?! WHY?!”

There was the sound of something shattering.

“And that’s not all! Marquis Radon didn’t even look at me before walking away. The same man who used to praise Charlotte every time we met! Who said he wanted a daughter-in-law just like her!”

The Marquis of Radon’s family had ties to the royal family—he was the Emperor’s nephew.

They were a solid family, one the Count had in mind as a backup marriage plan for Charlotte if she couldn’t marry into a dukedom.

And now even that option was gone. No wonder he was furious.

“C-Charlotte was just trying her best. She’s ambitious and capable—like you! She was just aiming higher, that’s all. For a duchess instead of a marchioness.”

“Ambition? What good is ambition when this is the result?!”

The Count kept ranting in a stream of angry, unclear words.

He wasn’t angry because Charlotte had done something wrong.

He was angry because he had been humiliated because of her.

“Do you know what this is? Letters from the people who bought your paintings! They want refunds and compensation! Do you know how much money I’ll have to give back because of you?! You act all fancy, but you’re worthless! Absolutely worthless!”

Worthless. Useless. Meaningless.

All words Charlotte hated most.

And the ones she used most often on me.

Her pride thoroughly crushed, Charlotte yelled back.

“You’re yelling over money?! Just pay them back! It’s just money—what’s the big deal—”

SLAP!

“Do you think those clothes on your back fell from the sky?!”

“……”

“You talk back and argue like you did nothing wrong! Where did you learn to speak to your father like this?!”

After that, her voice became unclear. Maybe she was begging or giving excuses—it was hard to tell.

But it didn’t seem like what the Count wanted to hear.

He roared again.

“Get out! Get out of my house right now! Don’t come back until you fix this mess! You understand?!”

Charlotte had only one way to fix everything:

Apologize to everyone she wronged and beg for forgiveness.

“But with Charlotte’s pride… that’s never going to happen.”

What the Count really meant was:

“Don’t ever come back.”