ELND Chapter 68

Chapter 68

Have You Heard That Rumor?

After Cedric left with Duke Bold,
I naturally slipped away from the emperor’s circle, sipping champagne as I glanced around.

It had already been quite a while, yet no “stranger” I felt inclined to talk to appeared.
So I turned my head slightly toward Adrian.

He was standing quietly against one wall of the banquet hall, simply observing the nobles like a detached onlooker.
The only person conversing with him was his elder brother.

“Sorry, Cedric… I did promise, but… there’s no helping it.”
When you don’t fit in, you have no choice but to stick with others like you.

Just as I was about to walk toward Adrian—

“Oh my, Your Highness Bea! You were here!”
“I knew we’d find you somewhere around here. You remember us, don’t you?”
“My goodness, it’s been forever!”

Three noble ladies approached me, all fussing excitedly.

I had no idea what kind of relationship they’d had with Rebecca, but to me, they were complete strangers.

“I have no idea who these people are—what do I do?”

I masked my confusion with a polite, awkward smile.
The women exchanged uneasy glances at my reaction.

“Something feels… off here.”

Sometimes, silence is the best weapon.

So I simply smiled faintly and looked at them.
One woman, standing in the center, cautiously stepped closer.

“Our Lady Judith… I heard she accidentally offended Lady Bianca once, didn’t she?”

“…Judith?”

“In fact, we’ve all been looking for Your Highness ever since, to offer our apologies.”

Judith Montreant.

That name brought back a memory—
She’d been the “queen bee” among the girls who bullied Bianca.

“Ah, so this must be the Duchess of Montreant—Judith’s mother.”

Now that I looked closely, the bright yellow hair and the sly, unpleasant expression resembled Judith perfectly.
The women beside her also looked like their daughters—
it wasn’t hard to guess who belonged to which household.

“So they’ve come to make excuses for what happened at the orangery.”

After I had witnessed Bianca being ostracized, word of the incident reached Emperor Letitz himself.
Even the nobles’ disdainful remarks about mixed-blood demons were reported.

The Emperor had never tolerated discrimination against mixed-bloods,
for they had played a crucial role in founding the Western Empire.

Naturally, once he heard of their careless behavior, the families involved fell from his favor.
And now, these duchesses were trying to win me over, hoping to crawl back into the Emperor’s good graces.

I erased the smile from my lips and looked them over slowly.

“As I told your daughters that day…”

“…”

“That wasn’t an accident. It was wrong.”

My words, laced with thorns, made their eyes dart nervously.
After exchanging quick glances, Duchess Montreant forced out an awkward laugh.

“Y-you’re absolutely right! Wrong, of course! Your Highness is always right to correct our wrongs!”

The other duchesses chimed in quickly.

“Yes, exactly! Our daughters behaved disgracefully toward Lady Bianca.”
“Your Highness, we’ll make sure nothing like that ever happens again, please just—”

Their eyes glistened with desperation.

I had been gazing elsewhere with my hands folded behind my back,
but I turned to them again, my tone cool and detached.

“Well… as the Grand Duchess of Twins, I suppose I can be generous—once.”

Relief spread across their faces.

Not so fast.

I lowered my voice slightly, my words cutting through the air.

“Of course, if I sense even the faintest trace of insincerity behind your apology…
my patience might run out for good.”

They all shook their heads violently.

“N-no, Your Highness! Never!”
“How could we waste such a precious opportunity?”
“Exactly, never! Hohoho…”

I looked at them—trying to laugh the tension away—and spoke again.

“Tomorrow afternoon, at the Imperial Tea Party hosted by Her Majesty the Empress.”

“…?”

“You and your daughters will offer Lady Bianca a proper apology there.
If you do, I might reconsider the matter.”

Unlike tonight’s banquet, the tea party tomorrow would include young nobles as well.
It would be the perfect place for Bianca to receive the apology she deserved—
and for everyone to see that she was not someone to be looked down on.

“Before I leave her side for good… maybe this is the best gift I can give her.”

I turned back to the duchesses, my tone firm.

“You and your daughters will give her a proper apology.
A real one. Understood?”

The women nodded fervently.

“Of course, of course!”
“We’ll make sure they understand perfectly!”
“You’re so gracious to give us another chance!”

As seasoned socialites, they quickly began showering me with flattery—
complimenting my radiant skin, my figure, my grace—trying to steer the conversation elsewhere.

I gave vague replies, just enough to be polite.

That’s when—

“Oh, I heard that rumor too,” Duchess Montreant said, raising an eyebrow.

“What rumor?”

“Well, that…”

She glanced around, then leaned closer to whisper.

“They say the northern social circles are in an uproar over the Countess of Dimitri.”

Countess of Dimitri—Camilla.

As I fell silent, the other ladies drew nearer, eager to gossip.

“I’ve heard it too. The Count is preparing to divorce her.”
“Yes, and apparently they’ve been living apart for quite some time.”

Duchess Montreant covered her mouth as she spoke more quietly.

“They say the Count didn’t decide to divorce her just because of the failed investments.”

“Then why?” I asked.

She looked around again and whispered even lower.

“If I were that woman, I’d jump from the top floor and be done with it.”

At the same time, on the second floor of the banquet hall.

Camilla had been sitting alone for quite a while inside one of the stalls in the ladies’ room.
She had no particular reason to be there—
it was simply the only place she could breathe.

“A few months ago, I was the star of high society…
and now, I’m hiding in a smelly room just to avoid people’s stares.”

The more she thought about it, the more pathetic she felt.

Though she had come here with her husband, Count Dimitri,
he hadn’t spared her a single glance.

And as rumors spread even to the capital,
no one dared to approach her.

They’d whisper when they thought she couldn’t hear—
and look away the moment her eyes met theirs.

“All those people who once begged to talk to me…”

Her jaw clenched.

Then came the voices of a few women entering the room.

“Don’t you think this year’s banquet is even more splendid than last year’s?”
“I know! How does His Majesty even think of creating a champagne fountain?”

Four or five women laughed cheerfully in front of the mirrors.

“Of all times—they come in now? I was just about to leave.”

Camilla frowned and held her breath.

“Oh, by the way! Have you heard that rumor?”

“What rumor?”

“Well…”

After a brief pause, the voice continued—

“It’s about Countess Camilla Dimitri.”

Camilla’s chest tightened painfully.
Her hand trembled as it covered her mouth.

“Oh, I heard she lost half the family fortune investing in demonic goods!”
“Half? More like almost all their inheritance!”
“If only that were the end of it…”

The voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Apparently, she was having an affair.”

“Oh my! With whom?”
“Sadly, no one knows yet.”

“My goodness… if the rumors about both the fortune and the affair are true,
then she’ll be out of the Count’s house any day now.”

“She always strutted around with her nose in the air.
I knew this day would come.”

Laughter erupted throughout the room.

“Her vanity was something else!
And a noble lady, flirting shamelessly with every man she met…”
“A mere baronet’s daughter, raised from poverty by marrying well—
of course she turned out spoiled.”
“I always thought she seemed vulgar somehow.”
“Exactly! …Oh my, look at the time! Baron Dane’s hosting a masked play in the Torsa Room now!”
“Oh, right! Let’s hurry!”

And just like that, after a long round of cruel gossip, the women left.

Only then did Camilla exhale shakily.

“Haa… ha…”

Even after they were gone, her hands and feet wouldn’t stop trembling.
Tears rolled down her cheeks as she leaned weakly against the door.

In this narrow, foul-smelling room,
forced to listen to people tearing her apart—
and unable to say a single word in her defense—
she felt utterly, completely broken.

Her heart boiled with humiliation and rage.

And in that storm of emotion, Henry’s face flashed in her mind—
that infuriatingly calm smile,
as he laughed freely among others,
while she drowned alone in misery.

“He saw me struggling… and still ignored me.”

He was no different from the rest of the nobles—
turning away from her as if she didn’t exist.

And worse—
from the beginning of their marriage, he’d been distant toward his wife, Robelia.
But now, that same Henry clung to her, fawning like a lovesick fool,
while Robelia reacted like a lifeless doll.

Their roles had completely reversed.
The hypocrisy—the shallow opportunism of that man—made her skin crawl.

“Henry. Do you think I’ll just stand by
and watch you live happily after abandoning me?”

The blood drained from her clenched hands.

Shaking with fury, Camilla stormed out of the ladies’ room.

The upper corridors of the hall curved in a wide horseshoe,
allowing guests to look down at the main floor below.

Camilla leaned over the railing and scanned the first-floor banquet hall.

“Where… where is he?”

Beneath the glittering champagne fountain,
guests chatted and laughed.

Her eyes searched the crowd one by one—
until they found him.

Henry.

Smiling easily, deep in conversation—
and beside him, Robelia.

The moment she spotted the Count and Countess Bart,
a murderous light flashed in Camilla’s eyes.

“…Found you.”