ELND Chapter 69

Chapter 69

You Didn’t Know About the Mark?
“Haha! Sir Elaine, are you serious?”

Henry burst out laughing amid the crowd of nobles.
His body swayed slightly—he was clearly drunk.

A servant carrying a silver tray cautiously approached him.
“Count Bart.”

“Hmm…?”

Henry drained the last of his champagne in one gulp and turned toward the servant.

The servant respectfully handed him a small folded note.
“A note was delivered for you, my lord.”

“For me?”

Sir Elaine, who had just been chatting with Henry, let out a hearty laugh.
“Don’t tell me that’s from some secret mistress of yours?”

Henry’s face stiffened for a moment, but he quickly recovered with a practiced smile.
“Of course not. How could I have a mistress when I have such an angelic wife by my side?”

He said that while glancing affectionately at Lobelia, who stood to his right.

Lobelia’s expression, however, remained as cold and indifferent as ever.

‘Did he somehow realize about me and Camilla…?’

The thought flickered through Henry’s mind, but he masked it well, pretending as if he had nothing to hide.
“Oh, it looks like Sir Levart is looking for me. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him yet tonight.”

He tucked the note casually into his inner pocket and smiled.
“Lobel, would you be all right on your own for a bit? I won’t be long.”

He gently tucked a strand of her golden hair behind her ear, his tone tender.

Lobelia only gave a slow nod, her lips pressed firmly together.

Her lack of response irritated him slightly, but Henry only smiled again—effortlessly, smoothly—before turning to the others nearby.
“I’ll be right back. Please see to it that my wife isn’t bored in my absence.”

With that, Henry stepped away.

As he climbed the staircase leading to the upper floor of the ballroom, he pulled the note back out and unfolded it.

“Come to the third floor immediately. If you keep ignoring me, I’ll tell Lobelia about us.”

It was from Camilla.

Normally, Henry would have ignored it.
But not this time—because of the last two lines.

“Don’t you dare think I won’t. I have nothing left to lose anymore.
—Camilla D.”

The third-floor balcony was cloaked in silence and darkness.

As soon as Henry saw Camilla’s face, he snapped irritably,
“Camilla, what the hell are you thinking, calling me out here of all places—at a gathering full of imperial nobles?”

His anger, fueled by alcohol, was hard to suppress.
Even as he spoke, he nervously glanced around, worried someone might overhear.

Camilla gave a bitter, mocking smile.
“You could’ve avoided this if you hadn’t ignored me.”

Her voice trembled with fury.
“Ever since the day I left the inn, I’ve sent you countless letters. And you—
you never once wrote me back!”

Henry threw his head back and let out a sharp laugh.
“Unbelievable. You’re going to drive me insane! I told you—it’s not the right time for this!”

Camilla screamed back, her voice breaking.
“And I told you, I can’t keep waiting! Do you have any idea what I’m risking here? My husband could abandon me any moment now!”

Her words made Henry’s expression turn to ice.
The air between them grew painfully cold.

Camilla bit her nail, realizing too late that she’d said too much.
After a long, tense silence, she reached out and grabbed Henry’s hand with both of hers, trembling.

“H-Henry… you’re all I have left now.”
Her eyes darted wildly, unfocused.

“There’s no time to wait anymore. You have to get rid of Lobelia—now.”

Her grip on his arm tightened as her eyes suddenly gleamed.
“Y-yes, that’s it! We could even just kill her, couldn’t we? Right, Henry?”

She looked desperate—unhinged.

Henry stared at her blankly, then his brow slowly furrowed.
“…What did you just say?”

“It’s the easiest way! The most convenient and foolproof way!”

“……”

“So if we just kill Lobelia together, then I can finally become the Countess of Bart—”

Snap.

Henry ripped his hand out of her grasp.

Camilla froze mid-sentence, her eyes wide.

“Kill Lobelia… together?”
Henry’s mouth twisted into a crooked, cold smirk.
“Why would I?”

Camilla’s pupils trembled.

Click. Henry tutted softly and reached into his jacket pocket.
He pulled out the note she had sent him, tore it into tiny pieces, and scattered them in her face.

Camilla’s face drained of all color.
“H–Henry!”

He only smiled, sly and mocking.
“I was going to give you another chance out of old time’s sake, but… ah well.”

He wrinkled his nose and tapped her cheek lightly with a finger.
“I guess I’ve had enough, Camilla Dmitri.”

It was mockery—pure, deliberate mockery.

They’d been childhood friends, lovers for many nights, partners in secret.
Camilla had known he might betray her someday—
but seeing it unfold before her eyes still made it feel unreal.

Her thoughts froze. Her lips quivered.
“W–What do you mean by that?”

“……”

“No, no, you’re just angry right now, that’s all, right? Henry?”

He only looked at her like she was pathetic.

Camilla clutched his sleeve desperately, as if clinging to the last rope left.
But he shook her off without hesitation.

“We’re done, Camilla. Don’t bother me again. And don’t even think about getting in my way.”

He leaned in close, his breath cold against her ear.
“Because if you do, the one I’ll kill won’t be Lobelia…
It’ll be you.”

“……!”

Henry stepped back, glared once more, and turned away.

Camilla watched him leave in stunned silence, her jaw trembling—not from fear, but from rage.
Rage born of betrayal.

“I won’t let you—or Lobelia—get away with this.”

Her voice echoed eerily through the corridor.

Henry stopped mid-step.
Then, after a pause, he scoffed softly.

“Dream all you want. Let’s see who dies first.”

With that, he walked away without a backward glance.

Camilla stared after him blankly.
He had been her last hope for happiness—
and now that, too, had shattered to pieces.

By Henry Bart’s own hands.

“I offered you the one path where we both could’ve been happy…
but if you refuse, Henry, you leave me no choice.”

He couldn’t be happy alone—
not while she was rotting in misery.

‘I won’t just sit and watch.’

As she swore that to herself, an opportunity appeared—
the first chance to destroy Henry Bart completely.

“Henry…? Where did you go?”

At the end of the dim corridor stood a woman with shining golden hair,
illuminating the darkness around her—Lobelia.

Camilla instinctively frowned, but then her lips curled into a slow, wicked smile.

“…Lobelia?”

Feigning surprise, Camilla approached her.
“Lobel, it’s been so long. How have you been?”

“Ah, Camilla…”

“I’ve sent letters, but you never replied. I worried you were avoiding me because of the rumors.”

She chose her words carefully—ones that would prick at Lobelia’s conscience.
Camilla knew Lobelia’s kind heart; guilt always worked on her.

“It wasn’t really like that,” Lobelia said flatly.

Camilla blinked, momentarily thrown off.
Lobelia’s indifference was… unexpected.

‘Did Henry tell her about us?’

If so—why had she pretended not to know all this time?
Was she waiting quietly, thinking Henry would eventually come back to her?

‘How disgusting. That innocent face pretending ignorance…’

Both husband and wife set her nerves ablaze.
Camilla forced a bright smile.

“Henry must’ve gone up to the top floor.”

There was no reason not to smile—
because soon, that serene, naïve face would disappear forever.

Her lips curled into a cruel grin.
“Shall I take you to him?”

After wrapping up a conversation with a few duchesses, I went up to the second floor.
I just wanted a brief moment alone, away from the noise.

But every table along the corridor was already occupied by elderly ladies gossiping over tea.

‘Maybe there’s a free spot on the other side?’

I leaned against the railing at the corner of the U-shaped corridor and glanced toward the opposite hall—

“Your Grace, the Grand Duchess of Twins, correct?”

A polite yet unfamiliar voice came from behind me.

When I turned, I saw a man with striking blue-violet eyes—eyes just like Adrian’s.

“Oh, you’re…?”

He smiled and bowed.
“I’m glad you recognize me. I’m Adrian’s older brother, Elliott Monterre.”

After his courteous introduction, he lifted his head again and smiled warmly.
“You two really do resemble each other when you smile.”

“Haha, I get that a lot. Though I must admit, Adrian’s the prettier one.”

Elliott chuckled lightly before continuing,
“It’s truly an honor to meet the mistress of the Twins family—the leading house of our mixed-blood demons.”

“I’m glad to meet you as well, Lord Monterre.”

Elliott looked at me for a moment, then nodded slowly.
“As Adrian said… you really are as he described.”

“Oh? Did he speak ill of me, perhaps? Tell everyone how temperamental I am, like the rumors say?”

I joked with a serious face, and Elliott laughed heartily.
“Not at all. He only ever spoke of you with praise. Said you’re strong-willed, compassionate, and care deeply for others. He told me he deeply respects you.”

“……”

“He truly holds you in his heart.”

Elliott let out a quiet sigh before continuing.
“For what it’s worth, our Monterre family doesn’t insist that our heir must marry a bride chosen by Manaquin. If Adrian truly loves someone, we’ll respect his choice. That’s how I met my wife, too.”

His lips curved softly, as if recalling a fond memory.

“Of course… as long as she isn’t already marked.”

He gave me a meaningful glance.

But half of what he said went over my head.

A little confused, I gave an awkward laugh and asked,
“Sorry, but… what do you mean by ‘marked’?”

Elliott’s expression froze.
“Your Grace… you mean—you don’t know about the Mark at all?”