2.
What a beautiful friendship this is.
Harriet Listerwell clenched her teeth. This familiar situation was exhausting, ridiculous, and utterly nauseating.
‘I don’t care if he’s an old man on the verge of death. I’d marry anyone just to escape this hell, so please, someone, just propose to me.’
Harriet prayed with all her heart.
She was desperate, but in truth, she had no great expectations. Since her twelfth year, God had not answered a single one of her prayers.
That was why, when a man who should have had absolutely no connection to her approached, she was so bewildered her mouth went rigid.
It couldn’t be helped.
“Miss Harriet Listerwell?”
“Yes? Yes! I, I am… Harriet Listerwell….”
The man, who asked for her name with an unreadable smile, said,
“I would like to have my property returned.”
He pointed at the brooch with his long, firm fingers. The man who laid claim to it was—
‘My God!’
He was Duke Cedric Kaylas, hero of the Kifren War and guest of honor at today’s banquet.
‘Why is he approaching me…?’
At the sudden surge of expectation, Harriet’s face flushed red.
However, Cedric merely stared at her, saying nothing. Harriet suddenly realized that his eyes were not smiling at all.
‘Something is wrong.’
She knew something had gone terribly awry. She couldn’t tell where or what had gone off-track—or rather, there were so many things wrong she couldn’t distinguish one from the other.
It was certain that Cedric hadn’t pinned the brooch on her. Before the lights went out, he had been speaking with the Empress, and hadn’t he just walked over from the direction where she stood?
‘And he isn’t in a position to be playing games with romance.’
That was the status of Cedric Kaylas.
He became a Duke at only twenty-five because his father, Rowan Kaylas, had died during the Kifren War, forcing him to inherit the title early.
As a staunch ally of the Imperial Family, he had an obligation to maintain the House of Kaylas, and his wife had to be someone chosen with extreme care.
‘Then who pinned this on me? And where did this brooch even come from?’
Was it a malicious prank?
Harriet’s lips went dry from an instinctive sense of danger. She couldn’t just stand there staring at him; she had to handle this.
“Th, this—I’ll return it.”
She intended to hand it back, but she was so flustered that her fingers slipped repeatedly against the clasp.
“What’s that? It doesn’t look like the Duke gave it to her, does it?”
“Of course not! Why would the Duke give a brooch to someone like that?”
“Could she have stolen it? Is she wearing it on purpose?”
“Who knows what’s going on inside her head? In any case, Harriet Listerwell is up to her old tricks again.”
The whispers reached Harriet’s ears. Her back felt damp with sweat.
‘Why won’t it come off!’
The Duke of Kaylas’s brooch—she swore she had never even imagined such a thing. Yet, she was caught in a nightmare because of an object she hadn’t even wanted.
She felt like ripping it off and throwing it away. Perhaps that desperation showed on her face.
“Wait. You’ll damage the brooch. Let me help you.”
Even though it was pinned to her chest, Cedric stepped in close, as if the brooch were his only objective. Harriet couldn’t even breathe.
Perhaps it was a mercy; he detached the brooch with ease. It was so effortless that Harriet’s previous struggle looked entirely intentional.
“Th, thank you.”
She didn’t even know what she was thanking him for. There was no reply.
Harriet, unable to bear the silence, lifted her head, only to swallow a gasp. Cedric had leaned in to remove the brooch, and his face was inches from hers.
His reddish-brown eyes, resembling rubies, were beautiful, but she was too afraid of the cold contempt within them to appreciate his features.
“With whom should I discuss this matter, Miss Harriet?”
“I, I don’t know what you mean….”
“Why my father’s keepsake was displayed on the chest of a lady I don’t even know, and how you intend to take responsibility for this insult.”
Every word that left Cedric’s lips seemed to drop the temperature of the air.
“It is difficult to forgive this as a simple prank, given the heavy meaning this brooch carries.”
Harriet stood with her mouth agape, forgetting all decorum. The words were in the language of the Empire, but she couldn’t make sense of them.
“Your Grace! There is a, a misunderstanding…!”
“Why do those who commit wrongdoing always love the word ‘misunderstanding’? Do you think that will make me turn a blind eye?”
His smile was perfectly smooth, but it sent chills down Harriet’s arms.
“No, it’s not! You’re mistaken! When the lights came back on, I just found it pinned to my dress!”
Harriet argued as hard as she could, but Cedric’s expression remained frozen.
Around them, the whispers grew louder.
“She must have pinned it on herself.”
“She wants attention, but to steal the Duke’s brooch…!”
“That’s just how she is.”
The clicking of tongues, the looks of disdain, the furrowed brows. She had seen such reactions many times, but today, she felt unusually suffocated.
“It’s not true! It’s not!”
As Harriet shouted, her uncle, Viscount John Listerwell, came rushing over.
“Your Grace!”
“Ah, the person in charge has arrived.”
Harriet looked at her uncle with a desperate expression. *Please help me! Save me! I don’t know anything!*
However, the words that came out of John’s mouth were far from her expectations.
“I apologize! It is my fault for failing to keep my niece in line.”
“It would seem so.”
Cedric’s voice was calm, but there wasn’t a person present who didn’t know he was furious.
It was natural. The victory party for the war where he lost his father was not a joyous occasion, and now his father’s keepsake had been stolen.
That was bad enough, but the social circle’s notorious “Scandal Maker,” Harriet Listerwell, was walking around flaunting it as if she had some secret claim to the Duke.
John dripped with sweat as he bowed, and Bella, appearing from nowhere, pleaded for leniency with a terrified expression.
“Your Grace, please take pity on Harriet. She must have stumbled upon the brooch, and she probably wore it because she wanted a little attention. She’s never received any before….”
The blood drained from Harriet’s face.
“Bella! You saw it too! I was just thinking that the person who pinned it on me had made a mistake…!”
Harriet tried to explain. She believed that Bella and her friends would recognize her innocence. But her attempt was blocked by John.
“Shut your mouth, Harriet! Watch your tone!”
John scolded her with a furious face. Today’s banquet was the stage for his son Aston’s debut, and he couldn’t afford a scandal.
Harriet tried to explain again, but tears welled up before she could speak. She knew how shameful it was to weep in such a place, but she couldn’t stop it.
“It’s really not true! I, I, sob, I would never, steal, the Duke’s, sob, belongings!”
Her voice was pathetic, yet no one pitied her.
“She’s living up to the nickname ‘Scandal Maker’.”
“She doesn’t look like much, but she’s always poking her nose at every man in sight.”
“Tsk, tsk. I feel bad for the Viscount. To think he’d suffer such a disgrace because of a niece he took in.”
Despite the crowded room, Harriet felt as if she were drowning in a profound, crushing loneliness.
She was used to the idea that the more she defended herself, the more ridiculous she looked. But because this was an Imperial banquet, the despair felt deeper than ever.
‘Making a fool out of someone—it’s so easy.’
She let out a dry laugh as her grief surpassed its limit.
She wanted to make one thing clear to Cedric. She knew he wouldn’t believe her, but she couldn’t just walk away stammering.
Swallowing her tears, Harriet turned to him and spoke clearly.
“I did not steal the Duke’s brooch. I never even wanted it in the first place.”