TMBS 04💖

Chapter 4. Apostle of Justice

“I’m telling you, the beaches in Croa are to die for. Wanna check it out this summer?”

This time, even Grey joined in on the pointless banter.

“Yeah? But what if the beach doesn’t kill me?”

“Then I’ll find something even better than the ocean to kill you with.”

“Haha. Not a bad idea. Though, I might kill you first—for heresy.”

“Grey, are you seriously going to report your own friend?”

“Leo, with the way you exaggerate, you’d at least get a few days in lock-up. Now that you mention it, I’m actually curious. Should we bring in Chief of Security Noel to pass judgment?”

For a moment, the mood on the balcony turned cold. Everyone knew Grey could actually bring the chief in and drag out some hidden charges from Leo’s past.

Talian, Grey’s closest friend, quickly stepped in. Throwing an arm over Leo’s tense shoulder, he spoke lightly on purpose.

“Sheesh, Grey says the nastiest things in that soft voice of his. Total waste of a talent.”

Grey glanced over the awkward faces of his friends, then let out a small chuckle. That gentle smile returned to his face.

“Soft voice? Now I’m embarrassed. Fine, forget bringing Noel. Can’t believe you’re exploiting my soft heart like that. Shame on you, Talian.”

With that, Grey effortlessly took the lead in the conversation again, and the tense group burst into laughter.

“Well, it wasn’t the nastiest thing to say, I guess.”

“Watch it, Talian. You might get reported too.”

“Come on. Talian doesn’t have any crimes to dig up. Being ugly’s not illegal—yet.”

“Hey! You wicked little creep—except for your voice!”

Even Leo, who had suggested the beach trip, looked confused at first but soon joined in with a laugh.

The tension on the balcony melted into warmth and laughter—everyone except for one person: Adele.

Adele felt like she was sealed behind glass, completely cut off from the conversation. It was a blatant dismissal, ignoring even the basic manners expected of nobles toward a guest.

Looking back, that earlier exchange seemed like a test—one orchestrated by Grey. He’d silenced Adele deliberately, giving his friends the unspoken permission to treat her as invisible.

Whether he’d intended it or not, his friends, quick to read the room, picked up on the signal: Grey no longer acknowledged Adele, so neither should they.

“So, you going to the beach, Grey?”

“Are you insane? I hate beaches.”

Grey brushed his bangs back. With a single line—”I hate beaches”—he nullified the entire conversation that had come before.

And the smile he tossed at his dumbfounded friends was irritatingly charming.

Adele stifled a bitter laugh. Instinct told her—this was someone to stay far away from. Someone who effortlessly controlled the room. Exhausting. Complicated.

She decided, then and there, to abandon her goal for the day—applying to be Grey’s personal aide. No matter how much access it might give her to the secrets of House Valonec, she had no interest in dealing with someone like him every day. Not that he would’ve chosen her anyway.

Just then, a commotion erupted in the distance.

A splash and a scream echoed from beyond the balcony, near the lake. The club’s garden suddenly became noisy.

“What the—?!”

Everyone leaned over the railing to see what was going on. Adele, too, turned to look. Even Grey slowly shifted his gaze.

“Help! Somebody, please!”

A woman was thrashing in the deeper part of the lake, her arms flailing wildly.

A small empty rowboat rocked nearby, drifting away in circular ripples caused by her desperate splashing.

“Wait, isn’t that Grace?!”

“What?!”

Mensha, who had been friends with Grace since childhood, shot to his feet. Adele, sitting beside him, nearly lost her balance.

The others on the balcony remained oddly calm. Some even chuckled.

“Probably made a bet with her friends. Row the boat solo or something.”

Mensha grimaced and muttered.

“Damn it. I knew she’d pull something like this eventually. She’s insane.”

He turned and ran toward the building—likely heading for the lake.

But before he got far, another scream cut through the air—louder this time. Everyone froze.

Grace now looked almost… undressed.

“What the hell…?”

“Oh no…”

While the garden erupted into panic, the people on the balcony were still eerily composed. Or rather, they were stunned. Their expressions revealed the awkward truth a moment later—thanks to Grey’s quiet voice.

“Leo, isn’t that where you drunkenly threw that weird net the other day to catch bluegill?”

The realization hit. Their eyes darted nervously. One guy, oblivious, blurted out:

“Oh, the net with all the hooks?”

Silence.

Leo’s face crumpled. From the looks of it, Grace’s clothes had gotten caught in the hooked net, tearing or pulling them off.

“Shit!”

Mensha swerved from the building entrance and vaulted over the balcony fence, crashing through the hedges toward the lake.

The others continued glancing nervously at each other.

“It’s too deep. You’d need a boat.”

“Hey, Leo. Where’s that boat you used last time?”

“It’s being repaired—it hit a rock.”

“Right…”

Silence again. Even the people down by the lake were in a fluster, realizing there was no backup boat.

Mensha finally reached the shore—but just as he was about to dive in, someone grabbed his shoulder.

“Mensha, wait.”

“What?!”

“Think, just for a second.”

He pointed toward Grace. Even from this distance, the pale curve of her limbs and torso were clearly visible above the water.

Mensha clenched his teeth and shut his eyes.

Now he understood why no man had jumped in. No one wanted to be the guy seen dragging a half-naked noblewoman out of a lake—especially not with the gossip-hungry aristocracy watching. That kind of scandal could derail an engagement or haunt someone’s social standing for life.

The women nearby were equally helpless. Trained in embroidery and etiquette, none knew how to swim—and if they did try, they might end up just like Grace.

Watching it all, Adele instinctively understood: She was the only one who could save Grace.

Adele could swim well, and she wasn’t afraid of the deep, dark water.

But she didn’t want to move. Not out of some moral excuse. She just… didn’t want to help these people. A few hours in this club had been enough to turn her off completely—especially the way she’d been treated on the balcony.

She was perceptive enough to know that, in these people’s eyes, any act of courage from someone “beneath” them would be seen as flattery, not bravery.

And unfortunately, they were often right. That’s why people like them stayed in power—they read the world too well.

So no, she didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to look like she was flattering them, even a little.

But…

Adele looked once at Grace, still struggling. Then once at Mensha—his worried, pale face tugged at her like a hook.

She didn’t want to care. But she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Maybe it was the small kindness he’d shown her, nothing more than a courtesy from a superior to a subordinate—but it stuck with her.

Clumsy Mensha. Rough around the edges, but full of heart.

Adele sighed. Fine. I was going to do it anyway. So before your jaw falls off, close your mouth, Mensha.

She stood.

Looking down at her dress, she realized it was too long and cumbersome for the water—she might get caught in the very net that had trapped Grace.

She grabbed the hem and tried to tear off a manageable section—but silk was tougher than she thought. Her hands stung from the effort.

Suddenly, there was a sharp sound. Something thin and jagged was pushed toward her clenched fists—a broken cocktail glass stem. She looked up.

Grey was smiling at her.

“Figured you might need this.”

How long had he been watching?

Adele stared at him for a moment. He still wore that eerie, innocent smile.

Now that the host of the balcony was looking her way, everyone else followed suit.

Adele scoffed silently. These people didn’t matter. She’d never speak to them again. Let them think whatever they wanted.

She took the glass shard, jabbed it into the silk, and ripped the dress up to her knees, revealing her bare legs.

The group stared, shocked. Was she really going?

Without sparing them a glance, Adele crossed the balcony, vaulted the fence, and took the same path Mensha had.

Before anyone at the lakeside realized what was happening, Adele was already wading into the water. When it reached her waist, she located Grace, took off her glasses, bit down on them, and dove.

The shrieking women and babbling men fell silent. Even the balcony crew held their breath. Only Grey remained reclined, watching like it was a show.

Then he moved. His usual straight posture swayed slightly—maybe from the alcohol.

“What… are you doing?” Talian asked, watching Grey undo the buttons on his vest.

“Looks fun.”

“What?”

Grey smirked.

“Am I the only one who thinks so? Talian, wanna join me?”

Vest off, he pulled out his gold pocket watch and tossed it beside Adele’s discarded fabric. He unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it off with practiced ease, and flung it over the pile.

Women blushed and looked away.

“Grey, are you seriously going in? Grace is… like that!”

Grey, half-laughing, looked at Grace.

“Yeah, and even now—she looks sexy.”

Talian twitched.

“You… are insane.”

“As always.”

“But Grey, you’ve had a lot to drink.”

“True. Still beat you even when I’m drunk, though.”

“At what? Cards?”

“Everything.”

“Hey! That’s because—I let you win!”