Chapter 19

Even that was enough to make that fool move exactly as she wanted. Of course, she expected that, having no money, he’d leave some kind of token. But for it to be his signet ring? He was so stupid it left her speechless—she couldn’t even muster a laugh.

“I didn’t expect him to leave the ring. I knew Robert was an idiot, but I didn’t think he was that thoughtless. Well, it worked out for me. It made it easy to identify who bought the poison.”

Lucy shrugged as she added,
“And it worked out for you too.”

Charlotte clenched her fist. Her hand, resting on her lap, trembled violently. Worked out? What, exactly?

“How could you… Why…”

Charlotte’s words trembled out, but Lucy fell silent for a moment. She took a refined sip of tea, slowly savoring the aroma. As the sweet liquid slid down her throat, a pleasant sensation spread through her body. Lucy spoke, calmly.

“Well, aren’t there too many reasons? He cheated with a maid, gave me a venereal disease so I have to take medicine for the rest of my life, and if that wasn’t enough, he got her pregnant. Tell me—do I not have the right to take revenge for all of that?”

“There were other ways! You could’ve divorced him!”

“Divorce?”

Lucy burst out laughing, as if she’d heard the funniest joke. She slapped the table, her hands turning red from the force. Wiping tears of laughter from her eyes, she said,

“Charlotte, just because you’ve been away from society for a while doesn’t mean you’re not still a noble. How, exactly, do you expect me to get a divorce?”

“…”

“I just did what I could do. Who could possibly blame me for that?”

“You killed someone!”

“Me? Charlotte, I may have set the stage… but I wasn’t the one who poisoned his drink. That was Robert. You know that.”

She was right. Lucy didn’t feed her husband the poison. She didn’t. But…

“I just gave Robert a little nudge. If he had any gratitude toward his brother—if he felt even a little indebted to the one who supported him—do you think he would’ve gone through with it just because I gave him a small push? That’s his responsibility. No one can blame me.”

“What if… I report you?”

At Charlotte’s words, Lucy giggled. Charlotte shut her eyes, a tight, choking sensation closing in on her throat.

“How would you prove it?”

“…”

“No, let me rephrase. Not how, but what exactly would you prove? That I wanted revenge on my husband? That I provoked Robert, who already wanted to kill him? That I gave that idiot, too scared to act unless he was sure he wouldn’t take the blame, the opportunity to pin it all on me?”

There was no rebuttal. It wasn’t just that there was no proof Lucy had orchestrated things—even if Charlotte somehow found it, that alone couldn’t prove Lucy had murdered her husband.

“What about May… what did you do with her?”

Charlotte asked in a choked, strained voice. Lucy leaned back into the sofa and shrugged.

“Who knows? I sent her away, for now. No letter of recommendation. Pregnant like that, it’s not like she can work for another household.”

“May probably has syphilis too. She needs medicine—and a stable environment to raise the child.”

“Are you saying I should take responsibility? May got her wages, plus severance pay. Tell me—what other employer gives severance to a maid who had an affair with her master? I even let her keep the jewelry he gave her. What more ‘mercy’ am I supposed to show?”

“You know how expensive salvarsan is. That money won’t last her two years. And the baby—the baby might be born infected…”

“That’s not my problem. She shouldn’t have started anything with a married man in the first place.”

In the end, Charlotte could only leave the mansion with hollow steps. She felt like she was about to cry. Where had their radiant childhood gone? Her friend’s completely changed self, the relationship between them now broken in the worst way imaginable—it all pierced her heart.

With her head bowed, Charlotte couldn’t see ahead. A dark shadow appeared at her feet. Slowly, she raised her gaze.

“……”

Sir Lau stood in front of her, saying nothing. Silence hung heavy between them. Charlotte quietly studied him—his neatly styled hair, his pristine clothes, his polished shoes. He looked not like a knight, but just an ordinary young noble.

“You’ve changed your clothes.”

“Today is my day off… I don’t wear my uniform even on days like this.”

“You’ve changed a lot.”

Charlotte looked into his eyes, searching for that scrappy little boy from long ago—the dirty, ragged child who had nothing, who once came to her, full of remorse, asking for forgiveness for the wrong he’d done.

“…Nothing stays the same.”

“If you knew that, you shouldn’t have done something you can’t take back.”

Her voice, thick with unshed tears, caught in her throat. The pain was so sharp she could hardly breathe. Gasping, she glared at him.

“I only helped the person I love get what she wanted.”

“You watched someone commit murder because of love? You helped her?”

“Not controlling her—no matter what she chose—that’s how I love her.”

Sir Lau spoke in a calm voice, but his eyes glimmered strangely. Slowly, he raised his hand and crossed himself reverently.

“I only wish her to have everything she desires and to always be happy. If I can be a small help along that path, that’s enough for me.”

“…Why did you take Miss May to Bisset’s apothecary?”

“…I didn’t know she was pregnant.”

Sir Lau bowed his head slightly. His blonde hair caught the sunlight and glowed brilliantly. Charlotte frowned sharply.

“Her Ladyship had been planning this for a while, but no matter how long she waited, Robert Turove wouldn’t act. That idiot was too scared.”

“…”

“I thought… maybe she could be a new piece on the board. If I’d known she was pregnant, I wouldn’t have done it. Then it would’ve been impossible to kill the Baron.”

Charlotte didn’t say anything more. She didn’t want to argue logic, didn’t want to raise her voice. What could she gain from it? Nothing she said would change these two. And she couldn’t prove anything… not truly.

Without waiting for a carriage, Charlotte left the Turove estate on foot. She walked and walked—past the village, past the train station. As she went to board a train, someone tugged at her sleeve.

“Miss, would you buy an orange? It’s sweet and tasty.”

A small girl clutched a basket overflowing with oranges, her arms trembling under the weight. Charlotte gazed silently at the child’s slightly grubby face and handed her a coin. The girl beamed and held out the basket.

“Thank you!”

Charlotte took an orange and boarded the train. As she sat down, her legs throbbed from overuse. She took off her shoes and found blisters on her heels. The stinging pain made her sigh as she set her shoes neatly aside.

It was two hours to Leopolre. Night had fallen, and the faint glow of gas lamps illuminated the streets in patches.

She still had no desire to catch a carriage. Charlotte stepped slowly into the darkness. Just then, a voice called out to her.

“Miss Charlotte?”

Henry wasn’t sure at first, but upon recognizing her, he smiled brightly and approached. His pale blue eyes were filled with relief and joy.

“What a coincidence.”

‘I trust you’ll tell me everything before long. And for the sake of the Empire, for the public good, I believe you won’t turn away from your duty.’

That voice echoed in Charlotte’s mind. Guilt pricked at her, and she looked away from Henry’s eyes, murmuring softly.

“Yes… what a coincidence.”

If she had spoken to him the moment she realized something was wrong… would things have turned out differently? Maybe other evidence would’ve come to light. Her lips twisted bitterly, but thankfully the darkness hid it.

“You’ve been somewhere?”

“Just… to see someone.”

“Ah, shall I escort you home? It’s quite late to let a lady walk alone, now that we’ve crossed paths.”

Charlotte looked into Henry’s smiling eyes. She could feel the trust he placed in her, and it made her heart ache. She felt like crying, so she quietly nodded. She didn’t want to refuse—if they spoke any longer, she knew she’d break down.

Instead, she pulled the orange from her pocket and offered it to him.

“Wow, is this a gift?”

Henry, delighted, began to peel the orange. He popped a segment into his mouth, then held out one to Charlotte. She didn’t refuse.

The orange was, just as the child promised, incredibly sweet. It was so sweet it stung her tongue. Charlotte discreetly wiped the tears from her eyes, hoping Henry wouldn’t notice. As they walked together through the dark night, she wiped her tears again and again.