Chapter 208

Chapter 208

If so, wouldn’t all of these also end with the hurt given and received?

As Deatrice thought about it, she could finally say everything was fair.

‘There’s no need to act so guilty, Lucy. My father also did something wrong to you. Do you remember what happened in that living room back then? Your “mother,” who I saw then, was actually hired by my father. She was an impostor. Your biological mother died a long time ago, and you are Connor Fenry’s son. You are the rightful heir to the House of Fenry. It was all my father’s plan. The reason you fell apart was simply because of my father’s greed to marry me to a man of a higher standing than you. There is no good reason why you had to face death and tumble on the battlefield, stepping on the corpses of your comrades, or why you had to endure such terrible tortures that you cannot even remember for the sake of the emperor. Everything happened because of my father’s dirty work.’

And at the end of those words, should she smile as if she were dealing as equals?

‘But you also have a record of putting me and my father in danger, so will you forgive me?’

When Deatrice put it together like that, it became clear how foolish she was.

When she said nothing, Lucius approached her hastily.

“You’re misunderstanding. That day, I don’t remember anything. Perhaps there was thunder. You know how I get when there’s thunder. I was talking nonsense. It got misunderstood because…”

But the person who needed to make excuses was not him; it was her.

“I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

The one who needed to apologize wasn’t him; it was her. As she struggled not to succumb to her emotions and spill the truth to him too early, Deatrice made an effort to keep herself him.

“Lucius. Later.”

She sounded cold.

‘After meeting father and returning, I’ll come to you.’ She thought that silently.

“We’ll talk later.”

‘At that time, I’ll confess all the sins to you. So, later.’

So, later.

* * *

Deatrice left the palace and rode through the night, relying on a single horse without any escort.

The duke would probably still be in the palace, but there was someone she had to meet before meeting him.

She never expected to come here herself. Riding through the capital at this late hour with no escort, Deatrice thought that all of this might be a dream.

[I’m writing to give you some assurance, my lady.

It is believed that the identity of Bella Anise, whom you saw in the duke’s reception room six years ago, is likely to be Elena Anise, the sister of Bella Anise. They resemble each other, and after Elena struggles with money and suddenly disappears from the empire, her whereabouts become unknown. According to my findings, she has purchased a small mansion near the capital and is living well. You can probably deduce whose money she used to buy that mansion. If you think I might be lying, it might be good to check it out. Although it may be a truth that is hard for you to accept, please remember that revealing the duke’s injustice could somewhat restore the master’s honor.]

Not long ago, Tom Wilson sent a letter with such content, including Bella Anise, no, Elena Anise’s address. Deatrice always kept that letter and address tucked away wherever she went.

Now, she rode to the memorized address. It was fairly close to the palace, and as she rode at full speed, it didn’t take long for her to arrive at her house.

As she dismounted, her face and hands were frozen stiff.

Deatrice boldly knocked on the mansion’s door. On this late night, the mansion’s servant opened the door with an unfriendly expression.

She quickly assumed something must have happened upon seeing Deatrice standing alone, looking pale and trembling.

The servant briefly scanned her from head to toe before gesturing for her to come in.

“Did you encounter robbers or something?”

It was only after she dried a bit that the servant asked. Deatrice answered quietly.

“No. I have something to say to the mistress of this mansion, Elena Anise. Can you please inform her that I’ve come from Duke Luyden’s estate?”

“Duke Luyden?”

It seemed unbelievable to the servant that a lady from the estate would come alone to the mansion at this late hour, unaccompanied. Deatrice looked down at the servant with her authoritative expression.

“The mistress will recognize my face. Once you deliver my message, there won’t be any regrets.”

In other words, it implied that if her message was not delivered, the servant might regret it. Ultimately, the servant went upstairs to wake up the sleeping mistress, and soon, Anise’s grumbling voice could be heard as she came down.

“So you brought in a guest who came at this late hour and believed she had an important message for me? Did you keep an attendant by her side to watch over her? What will you do if that woman steals anything in her house?”

“It didn’t seem like she would. She doesn’t look like a thief.”

“A thief won’t show up with “I’m a thief” on her forehead, right? Let’s see what happens. If even a piece of my precious jade and pearls is missing, just wait and see. I’ll have you beaten and thrown out.”

Grumbling, Anise entered the kitchen carrying a candle. Her face, fierce as if asking who dared to wake her up, turned into surprise as soon as she saw Deatrice.

“You…”