Chapter 62
Reestablishing Relationships and Changes in Address
“Three years ago, on my birthday, you gave this to me.”
“I didn’t think you’d remember, and I certainly didn’t expect you’d still have it.”
“I haven’t thrown away a single thing you’ve given me.”
“…….”
“You might not believe it, but it’s true.”
His smile carried a hint of sadness.
Now, as I tried to recall memories with him… well, I don’t have any particularly tender memories to call memories, but it felt like I’d just realized that I had thrown away everything I could have recalled.
Yet, if even once he had shown happiness at a moment when I gave him a gift, I wouldn’t feel so pitiful now, and that sudden pang of regret rose inside me.
Ah, what use is it to think about this now?
I turned my attention back to the guest list.
“The person who was originally supposed to wear the violet dress… is Judith Merin.”
“What a peculiar coincidence.”
“Indeed.”
I replied absentmindedly, keeping my eyes on the list, and continued reading.
Then my gaze stopped at Lily’s name.
Her dress code was sky blue.
I recalled her in a sky-blue chiffon dress, her hair braided with a ribbon of the same color.
And then I remembered what she had said to me:
“You said you couldn’t come, didn’t you? That’s what Lily said.”
“I only said I couldn’t escort her, not that I wouldn’t attend.”
“Then why did you come? You don’t really like banquets.”
“…….”
Again.
I had tried to act as if I hadn’t seen anything, naturally shifting the mood—but I ran into it again.
What exactly does this man want from me?
He first announced the engagement breakup, yet his affection seems to be growing. And why is he showing glances and behaviors that weren’t there during our engagement?
What exactly does he expect me to do?
Following his dark gaze, I felt his unspoken emotions.
It seemed to plead, “Notice me. Understand me,” yet I didn’t know what it was—and at the same time, I didn’t want to know, which made me feel stifled.
<MESSAGE>
“So, Siena, you roughly understand how the incident occurred now, right?”
“It’s time to identify the culprit.”
“But before that, since we’ve found a new suspect, shouldn’t we interrogate them?”
The message chime snapped me out of the strange mood.
Watson’s advice was something I had already considered, so it wasn’t particularly useful—but I still acknowledged it.
“Let’s talk to Judith Merin.”
“Hello, Miss Judith.”
She was the young lady I had seen hiding and secretly watching me on the second floor.
Wearing a deep red dress, she frowned, clearly unhappy at being named a suspect.
But standing behind me were Duke Ortiz and the security officer, recording the statements and blocking the door, so she couldn’t act aggressively.
“I’d like your cooperation in capturing the murderer of the Count Cherat.”
“I didn’t do it.”
Judith flatly denied it.
Despite the annoyed expression on her face, she gripped her dress tightly before regaining her composure and crossing her arms.
“Were you having an affair with Count Cherat?”
“My goodness. How can you say such a rude thing to an unmarried woman like me? I was just invited here. I have no dealings with the Count.”
As expected, she wouldn’t admit to having an affair with a married man.
Instead of responding, I slid a letter toward her.
It was one of the letters she had sent to Count Cherat, filled with erotic and scandalous words.
“If you lie, it will work against you. Think carefully before answering.”
She pursed her lips, glared at the letter filled with her own handwriting, and sighed.
Then she raised her hands halfway in surrender.
“Ah, fine. Yes, I did enjoy his company briefly.”
“When did you first meet?”
“Six months ago.”
[Testimony of Judith Merin]
Q. How long have you been involved?
A. About three months? The Count first came to our caravan. Ah, our family has run the caravan for generations. He came to negotiate a contract to send goods regularly to Prince Withdrow of the Venturan Kingdom while studying abroad. Then, well… you know the rest.
Q. Did Count Cherat’s wife know about this?
A. I don’t know. He assured me that his wife would never know, but a woman’s intuition isn’t easy to deceive.
Q. Count Cherat’s wife claimed she saw you quarrel with him.
A. Ha. I couldn’t keep playing the mistress forever, so I told him we should break up. At the right time, a suitable marriage proposal came along, so I tried to end it. But he got angry, and things escalated…
Q. So did you push him down the stairs?
A. Absolutely not. Even after breaking up, he’s still a key customer of our caravan—why would I do that? If anyone might have a motive, it’s his wife. She might have pushed him in anger after discovering the affair, doesn’t that make sense?
Q. Where did you meet him? Do you remember the time?
A. In the hallway. I wanted to talk quietly in his office, but he insisted on coming out. We agreed to meet around eleven, so it was about that time.
Q. Did you call him out?
A. Yes, I asked my butler to summon him to the office so we could settle things quickly.
“Breaking up and him clinging to you—doesn’t that provide a motive?”
“Actually, it’s the opposite—the one who ends the relationship usually triggers the motive.”
“Hm?”
“When you no longer address someone as ‘dear,’ it shows the relationship has been reestablished.”
“Like how you stopped calling me by my name?”
“……Exactly. Anyway, if you end the relationship, the Count would have been the one to do it first.”
Damian simply stated the current status of our relationship, but it was my heart that fluttered.
However, I cannot let emotions sway me until the culprit is caught.
What I need to protect now isn’t my dizzy, quivering heart—but my body, which will end up executed on the gallows if I fail to catch the true criminal.
Calming myself, I organized what I had learned so far.
The prime suspects for murder are: the Count Cherat’s wife who witnessed the affair, the butler who harbored resentment due to insult and dismissal, and the mistress, Judith Merin herself. Three people.
“Duke, what color is my dress?”
“Violet.”
“And the security officers here—what color is it?”
“Violet.”
“Violet, yes.”
Though they seemed baffled by my strange questions, they answered obediently because Damian was present.
Exactly. I was wearing a violet-colored dress according to the Count Cherat family’s invitation dress code.
“I think we have our answer. Shall we gather the relevant people?”
1st Floor. The site where Count Cherat fell down the stairs, with all suspects assembled.
“Really? You’ve found the culprit?”
“Yes. The culprit is in this room.”
The Count’s wife still had a swollen, tear-stained face.
Next to her, the butler’s expression was dark as he constantly wiped the sweat from his forehead.
The newly added suspect, Judith Merin, stood nearby with her arms crossed, watching me with interest rather than resentment, still unclear why she had been summoned as a suspect.
“Thank goodness. Who is it?”
“Count Cherat’s wife. You, ma’am.”
“What? Are you punishing me because I was wrongly accused?”
The Count’s wife clutched the handkerchief the butler gave her, tearfully protesting her innocence and her grief over losing her husband, letting her tears fall.
The butler held her up carefully.
“Now, I’ll explain. Countess, what color is my dress?”
“……Violet.”
“Right. But you’re peculiar. Most people say purple, not violet, don’t they?”
“I say violet. It sounds prettier that way. How someone describes it is subjective, and it doesn’t make me the culprit.”
“That’s correct. But if it truly appeared violet, not just purple, let me ask again, Countess. You seemed to like my necklace—what color is it?”
“……Purple, no, violet.”
“You told me it was a beautiful, top-quality ruby. You don’t remember?”
Since Lily was listening, she couldn’t deny it.
I had already asked Damian to send the security officers to obtain her statement.
And that was the key to this deduction.
