NRAL | CH 50

~Chapter 50~

The Most Effective Way to Teach

Eleanor bowed her head in gratitude and began to turn away slowly.

He probably wouldn’t stop her anymore. She had already revealed her shameful true self to him.

“…Lady Eleanor. Did you know?”

But just like always, Karsian completely went against her expectations and called out to stop her.

“Even the part of you that you call ‘the lowest’—to me, it feels like something noble and high, like the sky.”

“What are you talking about…?”

“I am a far worse person than you imagine. If you could look into my mind and see my thoughts, you would surely call me vile and violent, and you’d run away from me.”

There was a bitter smile on Karsian’s lips, laced with self-mockery.

Eleanor frowned in confusion, but he didn’t bother to explain further.

If he told her what he planned to do to those two men who had said vile things about her earlier—if she knew just how cruel his ideas were—she would surely run away from him immediately.

“Even the lowest part of you could never disappoint me. If the path you choose leads into the mud, I will gladly follow it.”

Eleanor clenched her fists tightly.

Those were such unfamiliar words. Saying he would willingly walk through the mud with her… Even Luke, who had cared so deeply for her, never said that.

Her heart was racing—maybe because she was shocked, or maybe because she was confused. It ached even more than when she’d learned of Nora’s betrayal.

He doesn’t know how deep or filthy my mud is. That’s why he can say it so lightly, she thought, biting her lip.

Which was exactly why she had to push him away even harder.

“Your Grace, I don’t like you. Not even a little.”

“Yes, I know. I wouldn’t dare expect you to feel the same as I do. All I ever wanted… was for you not to see me as filthy and horrifying.”

She thought she had pushed him hard, but he didn’t budge. He stood firm, not even slightly shaken.

“But please, don’t tell me to erase my feelings. No matter what order you give me, that’s the one thing I cannot obey.”

Eleanor pressed her lips tightly together and said nothing. Her whole body was stiff with shock, but her violet eyes wavered like petals in the wind.

She had always thought she handled surprises well. But this situation was so far outside anything she could have imagined, she had no idea how to respond.

“…If you’re uncomfortable with me being involved in your revenge, then I’ll only offer help when needed. I won’t come any closer than that.”

Fortunately, Karsian spoke again first. As he took a step back, she could sense the care and caution in his actions.

“All I did today was answer your question. It wasn’t a confession. So please, don’t feel pressured or confused. Just keep using me as you see fit.”

He had said something similar before. But even now that she knew how he felt, she still couldn’t understand.

“Even though I can’t return your feelings? That won’t change, even with time.”

She couldn’t grasp why he’d still offer himself as a tool, knowing full well he’d never be loved back.

Maybe it was because she had inherited her father’s cold, calculating nature—she couldn’t see the world in any way other than logical and strategic.

“It doesn’t matter. Like I said earlier, I never hoped for anything in return.”

Eleanor was at a loss for words again.

Only the sound of the wind rustling through the branches broke the silence.

Just then, noisy voices started coming from beyond the curtain again.

“Miss Ellie! Where have you gone off to…?”

It was the voices of the Astria servants. From how frantically they were calling, it seemed something had come up.

“It seems I’ve kept the star of the ball too long.”

Karsian stepped aside to let her pass. Though the space wasn’t small, his tall frame made it feel narrow.

“No, I should apologize. I was the one who troubled Your Grace.”

Eleanor didn’t miss the chance to escape the awkward, heavy atmosphere. She was almost grateful the maids were looking for her.

She carefully passed by the duke. A faint, pleasant scent lingered at the tip of her nose, but she forced herself to ignore it.

She checked that no one else was around, and just as she reached to draw back the curtain, a low voice brushed past her ear.

“One last thing. There’s something I’d like to ask of you.”

“Yes? Oh, if it’s a request…”

The word “request” suddenly triggered a memory.

“Can I make one request too?”

“Of course, gladly.”

“…Not now, but later. When the time is right.”

Yes, they had talked like this before she went to get her dress fitted with Madame Corcos.

Back then, he had said if she felt uncomfortable, she could turn him down—and she’d thought he was being naïvely considerate.

But that judgment was wrong.

The Duke of Royster was no fool. He was clearly a cunning man.

“Please… call me by my name.”

If it hadn’t been phrased as a request, she would’ve rejected it outright.

But because it was framed so humbly, and because it felt like such a small thing, she couldn’t quite bring herself to say no.

“Not ‘duke,’ not ‘Your Grace.’ Just… Karsian. Please call me that next time we meet.”

Even the way he casually mentioned “next time” was perfectly calculated.

‘I’ve been completely fooled by a fox.’

Eleanor finally realized, and squeezed her eyes shut.

 

Nora’s debutante ball, though held without her presence, ended with great success.

The guests were delighted to have witnessed not just one, but two major spectacles: the scandal between Nora and Kiara, and the Grand Duke Royster’s first dance. Everyone left smiling, feeling they’d been well entertained.

However, the reviews that came afterward were far from positive.

Naturally so. After all, such a disgraceful scene had unfolded in front of all the guests, and the star of the night, Nora, never reappeared after that.

Even setting that aside, there were plenty of other reasons to criticize the ball.

The food and drinks were poor. They hadn’t hired enough staff, so guests’ needs weren’t met efficiently. It was obvious that the budget hadn’t been properly allocated to where it was needed most.

In fact, when compared to other noble families’ parties, this one wasn’t terrible. But because they had poured so much money into the decorations, the lack of quality in other areas stood out even more.

As a result, people gossiped about the Astoria family’s debutante ball like this:

“It was glamorous, sure, but there really wasn’t much to enjoy. It was just nice to look at—nothing more.”

“The decorations were pretty, but not elegant. Something felt a bit off. Compared to last year’s party at the Astria estate, this one was just… not the same.”

“There’s that old saying, right? ‘A party’s beauty reflects the beauty of its host.’ Isn’t that exactly what happened here?”

Just like Nora Astria—flashy on the outside but lacking substance—her debut was all style and no substance.

That was the general sentiment among the nobles.

The next day, when Duke Astria learned about everything that had happened at the ball, he was furious and summoned Eleanor to his study.

She expected him to shout the moment she walked through the door, but unexpectedly, his demeanor was icy cold.

From the cold stare her father gave her, Eleanor sensed something bad was coming. It was the same vibe she’d seen in him just before he’d beaten up Damian.

His gaze pierced her skin like thorns.

But Eleanor kept her composure and calmly explained what had happened the day before. Thanks to her preparation, she spoke fluently without stumbling.

Her explanation was simple.

Nora didn’t know about the Cunningham family tradition and became greedy for the ruby necklace, which led to her downfall. When things went wrong, she tried to pin the blame on Eleanor, but others noticed the inconsistencies. Then, the Baron Cunningham’s fiancée got angry and threw wine on Nora.

Through it all, Eleanor claimed she had tried her best to calm Nora and manage the situation. She admitted the ball’s preparation could’ve been better, but the budget was already tight when she took over.

In other words, her only fault was failing to stop Nora.

Of course, she couldn’t say that outright, or the Duke would think she was being arrogant. So she bowed deeply, putting on her most remorseful expression and taking all the blame.

From past experience, she expected that after about thirty minutes of yelling, he’d let her go—assuming she wasn’t truly at fault.

But today was different. The Duke showed no signs of anger or irritation. He simply stared at her in silence.

“I see. Listening to you, it does seem like that girl, Nora, brought this all upon herself.”

His calm agreement was a bad sign.

“But tell me something, Ellie…”

The moment Eleanor saw him rise from his seat and lock eyes with her, she realized it:

She had underestimated her father.

“Why is it that I see you so clearly in all of this?”

“…Pardon?”

“Not Nora, tripping over herself and rolling around in the mud like a fool. But you—who prepared the rock she’d trip on, the mud she’d fall into, and even the audience who would laugh at her.”

He stepped toward her slowly. Sunlight shining through the windows made his golden hair gleam. With it, old memories she didn’t want to remember flashed in her mind.

Cold sweat slowly ran down her back.

“I can see it—you, arranging every part of that scene.”

He didn’t have hard evidence.

But Eleanor knew all too well—her father didn’t need proof to act. If it turned out later that he was wrong, he’d simply express regret at that time. That was all.

“Ellie. It’s been a long time since I’ve used a cane on you, hasn’t it?”

She clenched her teeth and bowed her head.

There was no point in protesting her innocence. Nothing would change. Right now, the best thing she could do was appear completely obedient.

“These days, they say a parent shouldn’t beat their children, even if they’re the head of the household. That it crosses a line.”

Footsteps approached. Soon, a pair of shiny shoes appeared in her vision—handmade from expensive leather that only nobles could afford.

“You know, even ten years ago, people were saying the same thing.”

THUD. A large, thick hand suddenly gripped her thin shoulder.

Eleanor flinched without realizing it. Even though he hadn’t grabbed her hard, it felt impossibly heavy.

“I crossed that line anyway. Because it’s the fastest and most effective form of discipline. And with you, it worked very well.”

He leaned in closer, his voice now chillingly near her ear.

“But Ellie. Your father thinks this now: that the same kind of beating won’t work on you anymore. It won’t fix you. Not at all.”

Only then did Eleanor understand what he meant.

And at the same time, she gave up.

There was no escaping this.

Once someone crosses a line, there’s no limit to how far they can go.