~Chapter 14~
“When my father was still alive, he divided the inheritance just as Grandfather’s will instructed… but that was never enough for you, was it?”
“Eileen.”
For the first time, all the fake kindness vanished from Count Cassier’s voice. Finally. This was the real him.
He had claimed he needed more money because his child was sick, taken more inheritance than he deserved, used the Cassier name to commit fraud and caused massive financial damage—and then shamelessly asked the family to clean up after him.
This man had always been greedy in the most petty, disgraceful ways.
“The greedier you are, the harder it’ll be to shake off that label of being a bastard-born heir.”
Eileen stared straight at the count, her words soaked in all the anger she had kept bottled up for years.
“You think spraying the most expensive perfume over a pile of trash will make it smell any better?”
“Enough!”
Slap!
The sharp sound echoed as Eileen’s head snapped to the side.
At first, she didn’t even understand what had happened. But the pain spreading across her cheek, and the taste of blood in her mouth, made it all too real.
Yes, she had said things she knew would provoke him—but not even she had expected this.
“I let you stay in this house out of mercy, and this is how you repay me?!”
“And you say that as if it was some great act of kindness. You’ve done things even common thugs would find disgraceful.”
Eileen didn’t even raise a hand to touch her throbbing cheek. She just clenched her fists tightly around the hem of her dress and held her chin high.
“You…!”
The count’s hand trembled again, ready to strike once more—but this time, reason won out over emotion.
“What is it? Are you scared now? That I’ll run crying to that precious fiancé of mine and tell him what you did?”
Eileen smirked coldly as she saw the count gripping the edge of his desk in frustration.
He suddenly slammed the desk and stormed toward the door, barking commands.
“Don’t let Eileen leave the house. If anyone asks, tell them she’s caught a serious illness—something contagious. Say it’ll take at least a month for her to recover.”
It was a ridiculous excuse—but it would probably work.
After all, the only person who might come looking for her was Cedric Lowell.
And after what happened yesterday… he likely wouldn’t reach out anytime soon.
In the meantime, who knew what lies the Count might whisper to Cedric to ruin her reputation even more.
The maids who came to carry out the count’s orders gasped when they saw her face.
He must have hit her harder than he realized.
“It’s fine. I’ll walk myself.”
Eileen didn’t care how they looked at her. She pushed past them and climbed the stairs on her own.
“Oh my goodness, my lady! What happened to your face? Who would do such a thing—”
“I’m fine. It’ll heal soon.”
Mary, who had been pacing the room in worry, looked horrified when she saw Eileen’s bruised face.
Eileen sighed and sat down by the window, the spot where she often stared out at the world beyond.
“There’s blood on your lips, too. That’s not something that just heals quickly. I’ll go get medicine—”
“No need to fuss.”
Her cheek burned, but it was her head that throbbed more deeply.
She leaned her forehead against the cold glass and watched the snow begin to fall—soft, silent, and slow.
One flake. Then another.
She closed her eyes.
And Cedric’s voice echoed in her mind.
“Don’t be a nuisance. Just go.”
Maybe… he was right.
Maybe her meddling, impulsive actions weren’t helping him at all.
She had promised not to act like this again. But the arrogance of knowing the future had swallowed her without her realizing it.
But she had let that arrogance swallow her—just for a moment.
The arrogant belief that she could steer the future in a better direction…
She had told herself she was done with that kind of thinking.
But the truth was, deep down, she hadn’t let go at all.
“Mary. Don’t even think about sneaking over to the Lowell estate. I’m fine—really. I was just careless.”
“I would never… do something like that…”
Of course, her loyal maid clearly had planned to sneak past the guards and knock on Lowell’s door if necessary.
The way she flinched and quickly looked away made it obvious.
“But still… if Lord Lowell finds out…”
“And then what? We’ll get the engagement broken off? He’ll ruin the Cassier family?”
Eileen wasn’t even sure if Cedric would care that much.
Even if he did find out, it’s not like there’d be consequences. The Count, who cared about his reputation, might be irritated—but no one would punish him.
At most, the Cassier name would just be a little more tarnished.
“…But he’s your fiancé.”
Mary’s voice made it sound like Cedric should be grabbing the Count by the collar or something.
Eileen knew Cedric wasn’t the type to act out like that.
And truthfully, she didn’t want him to, either.
***
That’s exactly why she was so surprised—
When Cedric Lowell stormed into the Cassier estate less than a week later.
“L-Lord Lowell, this is a lady’s room, and—!”
“Just a moment—”
It was a quiet morning. Eileen was curled up with a book, shoulders hunched from the cold.
Just like the day they first met, Cedric appeared unannounced, before sunrise, with the pre-dawn blue light following him.
“Eileen. Are you in there? Answer me.”
Bang! Bang!
He knocked on her door impatiently. It was abrupt—but the sound of his voice still brought a strange comfort.
“You can come in.”
The door burst open. Behind him was quite the chaotic procession: a half-asleep Count Cassier, startled servants who had tried to stop Cedric, the head maid, and the butler.
The eyes of the crowd all turned to Eileen… then back to Cedric.
His face was twisted in a mix of anger and something else—something she couldn’t quite read.
“I think I told you before that it’s rude to visit a lady this early in the morning—”
“Your face. What happened to your face?”
Cedric took one step closer, and the moment he saw her face, he stopped cold.
His eyes flickered between her bruised cheek and the scabbed cut on her lip that still hadn’t fully healed.
***
Back at the estate, Cedric broke his third quill pen.
Cassel sighed and offered some advice.
“Why don’t you just reach out to her again?”
“What for?”
Cedric grabbed another quill, pretending to focus on the document in front of him.
It wasn’t even important, but he stared at it like it was the most serious report he’d ever seen.
“I don’t know what happened between you and Lady Eileen, but if you’re going to sulk over just a few days of silence from the Cassier house… why not just contact her again?”
“Nothing happened.”
But just saying that—was already admitting something had happened.
He scrawled his signature so aggressively that the ink splattered across the page.
He shoved the crumpled paper aside without care.
Still… I thought she’d come find me.
He had even let her know about his injury. But Eileen hadn’t replied. Not even once.
Cedric didn’t understand why that irritated him so much—even though he knew it was his fault.
He was the one who told her to leave.
He was the one who decided to focus on his duties instead of her.
So why did her silence feel so disturbing?
Could it be… she didn’t even care enough to get mad?
He almost wished Eileen had come storming in just to yell at him.
Maybe everything he had done—his cold behavior, his sharp words—was just his way of trying to draw some sort of reaction from her.
Those calm, green eyes…
They were too indifferent. Too quiet.
Whenever he met her gaze, he found himself wanting to shake something up—make something change.
“How are things in the territory? Any problems?”
He needed to switch topics. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore.
“No problems at all, according to the latest reports,” Cassel replied smoothly, catching on.
“…As for the trade negotiations we’ve been planning, I’ve already contacted the Kingdom of Arwin. The first prince is quite open to foreign relations, so their side is responding positively to the proposed deal with the Lotner Merchant Guild.”
“What about Viscount Lotner?”
“He said he’s ready to join the talks whenever Arwin gives the signal.”
“Good. That’s enough, then.”
Thank you for the translation!