Chapter 11
“No, Madam!”
Liza raised her voice. The cheap earring dangled from her finger, but she held it up confidently. It looked convincing. She pushed it close to my face. The earring swayed back and forth.
“This really is the earring you gave me, Madam!”
More people began watching. I tilted my head slightly.
“Check again. I don’t wear things this… cheap.”
A noblewoman nearby opened her fan and whispered something to her companion. I didn’t have to hear her to know what she was saying.
Belle saw the earring in Liza’s hand and helped me out.
“Liza, that’s not Madam’s earring. I helped her put on her earrings before we left.”
Liza’s face turned pale. She shook her head quickly. She looked desperate as she dug through her pockets, but all she pulled out were a few scraps of paper and another pair of earrings—hers.
Those earrings were finely crafted, clearly a gift from the Count. I grabbed them smoothly and held them in my hand.
“You must’ve been confused. See? Mine’s right here.”
Then, using the gentlest and kindest voice I could muster—like a generous mistress forgiving a young maid—I said,
“It’s okay, dear.”
“N-no, Madam!” she cried again.
“If it was a mistake, just apologize.”
“No, I swear it’s not…”
“Do I seem like such a strict person? I wouldn’t scold someone over a small mistake.”
I chuckled softly and put the earring back on. My earlobe throbbed a bit, but I could bear it. The earring hung heavily.
Liza kept shaking her head.
“No, Madam, that one’s mine! It was a gift to me…”
She clutched her own similar-looking earring tightly.
“This one—this is yours, Madam!”
“Madam already forgave you. That’s enough,” Belle said, holding back Liza, who looked like she was about to jump forward.
Liza’s face was full of frustration.
And to be honest, I enjoyed it. This situation—Liza being put down while Carla stood above—it felt oddly satisfying. Even funny.
“Please believe me, Madam! I’m telling the truth!”
Liza repeated herself again and again, but I ignored her completely. Carla never had the chance to speak out when it happened to her.
Nobles nearby, along with their servants, began to whisper.
I turned to Liza, tilting my head arrogantly.
“Tell me, who gave you such an expensive earring?”
I raised my voice. Everyone was watching her now. I wasn’t afraid. But my heart was racing, and the thrill of it was overwhelming.
“Well? Answer me. Who was it?”
Her clear blue eyes trembled with fear. I could see it—she finally understood what was happening.
If I pushed a little more, she could be labeled a thief. A maid who tried to steal from her mistress. She could be kicked out without a single letter of recommendation.
But she couldn’t say the earring came from the Count—not with so many people watching.
At least she was smart enough to realize that.
“Uh… um…”
I wanted to tell her: Your happiness wasn’t built on love—it was built on Carla’s silence and pain. The only reason you got away with everything is because Carla let it happen.
“Mistakes happen.”
I whispered gently. Liza looked like she would collapse. Belle held her up.
“You must’ve wanted the earrings badly.”
I gently touched her shoulder, like a generous lady would. Liza trembled slightly.
“But if you want to take something from your mistress… you’ll need to be a bit smarter.”
I tucked her hair behind her ear. My fingers weren’t even that cold, but she flinched like I had shocked her. She looked like a frightened baby deer.
And I—like a well-fed predator—smiled.
“Sorry for the fuss. She’s still a young maid. There’s much to teach.”
I smiled and apologized to the people nearby. They quickly lost interest and walked away. One of the noblewomen who invited me called out loudly, clearly for Liza to hear:
“Girls like her need to be beaten, Carla. Don’t go easy on her.”
Liza didn’t lift her head during the whole carriage ride. I ignored the tears falling from her chin. My heart was still racing.
Even before I took off my riding boots, Liza came trembling and asked to speak alone.
“I have something to say, Madam.”
“Belle, can you bring us something to eat? Apple pie sounds good. Let it cool a bit.”
I sent Belle to the kitchen on purpose. Once we were alone, Liza started crying. I didn’t ask why. I could guess.
I nodded.
“Go ahead.”
Through tears, she said,
“Madam, that was too much. I didn’t do anything wrong…”
For a moment, I felt a little guilty. Maybe I went too far.
She sniffled and wiped her tears with her fingertips. Even with tears, her face was beautiful. If she said, “Madam, I’m a victim too…”, I might’ve believed her. She really looked like an angel.
Then she opened her lips—slightly red from biting them—and said,
“I know you’re doing this because the Count loves me.”
She continued pitifully,
“Love isn’t a sin. It’s not my fault the Count doesn’t love you…”
Her voice shook, but her eyes stared straight at me. Her face was wet with tears, but I didn’t see an ounce of guilt.
I had tried to ignore it—but now, I had to admit it.
She was a shameless, nasty girl.
Without guilt, I said,
“Well. At least you’re good at something.”
I took off my earring and tossed it to her. She jumped and caught it, surprised. My ear stung where the earring had been.
“You’re better at stealing hearts than picking pockets.”
I mocked her.
In truth, she hadn’t stolen anything from me. She was dating Carla’s husband, but I hadn’t lost anything from it.
My real grudge was with Count Icarus.
But the one standing proudly in front of me was her. She was the Count’s mistress. And it took just a few seconds for my brain to justify all of this.
“Why are you crying? Are you ashamed now?”
I asked casually. She wasn’t used to being mocked. She hid her face and sobbed harder.
“You’re so cruel, Madam…”
I waited for her to stop crying. But she just cried harder. She didn’t stop until Belle came back with a tray.
Belle froze in place.
“Belle, bring me a rod.”
“A rod…?”
“Yes. Or a branch, if you can’t find one.”
Belle gave Liza a quick glance, then placed the tray down and left. She came back quickly, panting. In her hand was a thin tree branch.
“There were no rods, so I got this from the gardener…”
“Well done.”
Belle smiled proudly as she handed me the branch. I swung it through the air. It made a sharp sound.
“Liza.”
“Y-yes…”
“Give me your hand.”
Liza didn’t understand. She blinked. Belle grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward. Liza tried to pull back but couldn’t beat Belle’s strength.
Her pale hand had no visible veins. I looked down at it and said dryly:
“You’re quite bold.”
Then I struck her hand.
Smack!
A red mark appeared instantly. The branch snapped and fell to the floor.
“Ah!”
Belle’s eyes widened—she hadn’t expected me to actually hit her.
I clenched my teeth. I couldn’t hesitate now.
Even while being hit, Liza didn’t drop the earring. She must really love the Count. It was almost pitiful.
“Go and reflect on your behavior.”
Liza clutched her hand and glared at me, tears brimming in her eyes.
“God says not to be jealous, Madam…”
“Oh, really?”
I tried to smile. Otherwise, I might’ve hit her again.
“Confess your sins, Madam.”
Not something a mistress should be saying.
“Love isn’t a sin. But jealousy is. That’s why the Count doesn’t come to you at night…”
She didn’t finish her sentence. Belle dragged her out of the room. I didn’t need to hear the rest to understand what she meant.
That’s why the Count doesn’t sleep with you. That’s why you haven’t had his child. Just childish provocation.
As pitiful as Liza was, I felt even more pity for Carla.
If I hadn’t come to this crazy world, Carla would have had to endure all of Liza’s arrogance in silence. She couldn’t punish Liza—because the Count liked her.
Now I understood why Liza wasn’t afraid of Carla.
Of course. If Carla had wanted to hurt her, she would’ve done it long ago. Carla knew all the maids in the house—she must’ve recognized Liza.
But she never touched her. She just suffered quietly.
“Tch. A child, of all things…”
It wasn’t because Carla was kind. It wasn’t because she was weak. It was because she desperately wanted the Count’s child.
That pure-hearted wish made me sick.
