44.
At this very moment, few people could understand Anita’s feelings as clearly as he did. He felt a desperate, driving need to reunite with her, to offer whatever comfort he could.
“Let’s be precise, Rosa. He hasn’t passed away. He is simply missing. Major, do you know what has become of the Boellony family?”
“…Yes, I heard. I was just about to go and look for them.”
Anita was the very reason he had requested leave in the first place.
“That’s good. Since you’ve come this far, go and meet your sister before you leave. I’m not sure exactly what the situation is, but your presence will be a great strength to her.”
Following behind Sasha, who looked genuinely relieved, Bimark repeated a single name in his mind.
Lancelot Edenbahir.
The man who had approached Anita under the pretense of being an old friend. Knowing he had rushed to marry her while the Duke was passing away, his motives were as clear as day.
He had to reclaim Anita from Lancelot. Only then would he have the confidence to face the late Mr. Boellony in the afterlife.
***
It was early morning on a day when a cold drizzle had fallen ceaselessly since dawn.
Anita stood in front of the building, right on time for the appointment.
The surroundings were silent, utterly devoid of life. After waiting alone for a few minutes, she saw someone running toward her from a distance, gasping for breath.
“Huff, huff….”
The man had run without stopping, a distance that would have felt grueling even by carriage.
As he drew closer, his appearance came into view: a middle-aged man with short, red hair, soaked through with sweat.
“A-are you the Duchess of Edenbahir…?”
To his breathless question, Anita slowly pushed open the building’s door.
“You’ve arrived exactly on time. Let’s go inside.”
At her words, the man—who looked as though he might collapse at any moment—stared at her in shock.
“What? Don’t tell me—are you saying we have to stand in court right now? Madam, you shouldn’t joke with me like this…!”
“Rest assured. There is no one here but myself and you, Mr. George Pager. The trial is not being held.”
*Creeeak.*
The door groaned open, revealing an empty hall.
The lights were off, but the sunlight streaming through the windows was bright enough to reveal the architecture of the chamber.
George Pager, the lawyer, followed Anita, stepping into the quiet interior with hesitation.
“But I clearly received a notice for a Royal Court trial from the palace….”
Royal Court.
That was right; this was the Royal Court.
After being sued by the Grand Duchess, Anita had appointed George Pager as her counsel. Since only those with permits could set foot in the Royal Court, the access pass must have been sent directly to his residence.
Anita had enclosed the unilaterally decided time and place with that permit.
A letter that had arrived from the royal palace. One would have to be extraordinarily bold to ignore a summons like that.
‘The status of a Duchess carries significant weight, but it cannot compare to the royal family.’
“Didn’t you say you were sued regarding the distribution of forgeries?”
Any matter even remotely related to the dignity of the royal family was tried in the Royal Court. The bait Anita had used to reel in Pager was the heavy, suffocating pressure of royal authority.
“I was nearly sued, yes. But it was withdrawn last night. From the Grand Duchess’s perspective, winning the case would only brand her as the ‘winner of a dirty family feud,’ but if she lets it pass quietly, she becomes the ‘magnanimous elder who stepped back for the sake of the Edenbahir house’s honor.’”
With the suit withdrawn, the truth of the forgeries became a triviality. Even if Anita’s work were proven authentic, the trial would not proceed.
Above all, wasn’t it clear to everyone that Anita had provoked the situation at the Queen’s birth anniversary?
The Grand Duchess had sued Anita for distributing forgeries as if she had fallen for the provocation, but….
‘She must have pretended to fall for it to drag my image through the mud.’
Furthermore, she surely would have already sent men to Shavalon to confirm that her paintings were not forgeries.
Word was that the Grand Duchess was already circulating among the nobles staying in Hixen, saying, “As I feared, she is a vulgar, ignorant, and arrogant Duchess befitting her humble birth. But to uphold the dignity of the storied Edenbahir house, I, as an elder of the family, have decided to step back. I intend to present a different gift to Her Majesty the Queen.”
It was all exactly as Anita had expected.
“Are you saying you went through all this trouble just to call me out here?”
George’s footsteps stopped.
Yes, that was right. This whole charade had been a show, merely to secure a meeting with George Pager.
Anita looked back at George and apologized politely.
“Because you were intentionally avoiding me, I had no choice but to force an opportunity. I am truly sorry for deceiving you, Mr. Pager. Please accept my apology.”
George wiped away the sweat flowing down his face and let out a deep, trembling sigh of relief. The stability of a withdrawn trial seemed to outweigh his anger at being deceived.
“…Whew. I don’t even know what to say. You look just like your biological father. I heard from the person who visited me earlier that you were Mr. Vincent Boellony’s daughter; is that true?”
At the mention of her father, Anita’s eyes flashed.
“That’s right. He is my father.”
“No wonder I thought you resembled him—not just in personality, but in your features as well. Especially your eyes. Yes… if you were born a noble, you wouldn’t be apologizing to me. Nobles are not the sort to do that… Is Mr. Boellony doing well?”
Doing well?
“Do you not read the newspapers?”
“Do I have to? I’ve lost interest in worldly affairs for years now.”
Something was strange.
‘Did my father introduce me to someone who doesn’t even know about his own disappearance or my marriage?’
And wasn’t this man supposed to be a person of influence, a judge? At least, she had thought so until moments ago.
‘Why would Father tell me to look for this person?’
She couldn’t grasp his intent, not yet.
“My father… he went missing a while ago.”
George’s face turned deathly pale. He looked as if he hadn’t even imagined such a possibility.
“Th-this is a grave mistake I didn’t intend… Mr. Vincent Boellony was the most sharp-witted man I’ve ever met. It makes no sense for such a man to simply vanish! Please don’t worry, Madam, he will return soon.”
“Thank you. That is a great comfort.”
“If so, did you contact me to find your father’s whereabouts?”
“Something like that. Why have you been ignoring my messages all this time?”
“…I do not want to be associated with nobles. I despise them to the core. If the person who demanded a meeting with me had not been the Duchess of Edenbahir, but Miss Anita Boellony of the Boellony family, I would not have tried to hide.”
It wasn’t that he had rejected her specifically, but that he had rejected the entire nobility.
George’s claim didn’t sound like a lie. The deep loathing and anger shimmering in his eyes were the same as the eyes of the children who had spat at her, calling her a ‘rat from the sewers’ when she was young.
‘…Father wouldn’t have written down this person’s name without a reason.’
Her father was a man who even predicted his own disappearance. Therefore, there must be something about George Pager that Anita had failed to notice.
“I’m sorry. I should have come to see you in person. I ended up causing unnecessary misunderstandings.”
“No, no. Please, do not apologize.”
“If it’s alright, may I ask you a few questions about my father?”
George, who had been staring at the floor with a troubled look, slowly parted his lips.
“If you went to such lengths, it must mean you are that sincere. I also owe a debt to Mr. Boellony, so… whew. If you don’t mind, would you like to come to my house tomorrow morning? I will help you with whatever I can regarding Mr. Boellony’s whereabouts.”
“Can’t we do it today?”
He shook his head with an embarrassed expression.
“My wife is very ill, so it is difficult for me to leave the house empty. I am worried, as I have left her with a neighbor for the time being. It would be difficult to meet anywhere other than my home.”
His wife was ill. She had forced a man nursing his dying wife to come out here. Guilt pricked at her heart.
“Tomorrow at this time should be fine. Would that be alright?”
“That’s fine. I will come tomorrow, then.”
Anita caught a carriage for George. Even while he politely declined, he eventually took the ride, clearly anxious to return to his wife.
Only after George had disappeared did Anita regret her failure.
‘I should have asked what kind of illness she has.’
She could have brought some food or medicine to assist in her treatment.
When would she ever be as meticulous as her father?