Chapter 43 - Not a Madwoman, but a Siren (3)
Lillian felt her breath catch in her throat at Benjamin’s tirade. *He blabbed about it in the salon?* The festival would have drawn a large crowd to the salon. They probably wouldn't keep their mouths shut for Lillian's sake.
"After all that showing off about being so close to Duke Myers..."
Benjamin sneered, the corners of his thick lips curling up as he glared at Lillian before spinning around. As she watched the door slam shut violently, Lillian clutched the fabric of her skirt. When that failed to calm her, she grabbed the skirt with both hands and began to tear at it.
Rip, rip. The expensive dress crumpled and strained before tearing apart.
*If only this dress were Edith's hair.*
The surging anger and shame were unbearable.
"Edith. Edith. Edith!"
No matter how she thought about it, she couldn't understand. Edith's face was so hideous she had to cover it with a veil. The one time she'd caught a glimpse of it, the girl had looked so foul it seemed like you could catch something just by getting close.
Everyone who needed to know knew that Edith's face was ruined, and Grayson surely knew it as well.
'But why?'
Why would he take Edith's side? Why is he protecting her? Is it just because she's the one he's marrying?
'Yes, that must be it. Grayson has a strong sense of responsibility, so he's probably just being nice to her because he can't abandon her.'
But Lillian was certain that even that would be over within a year.
'Having to live while looking at that disgusting face every day, there's no way Grayson won't get sick of it.'
Lillian knew all too well how pathetic the responsibility, affection, and resolve of men toward women could be. She needed only to look at her own father and husband to know.
How had her father been when he first married Eliana? He acted as if he would pull out his own heart and soul for her.
'Benjamin was the same.'
Benjamin had cherished Lillian—young, pretty, and the daughter of a marquis—as he would his own body. He had doted on her and tolerated her every whim. But in less than a year, his attitude had changed.
So Grayson will be the same.
A bitter smile touched Lillian's lips.
'Fine, get married. It's not a marriage I can stop, so go on and do it, Edith. Enjoy the pleasure of being a duchess for a year or so. After that, you'll end up like your mother—scorned by all and torn to death.'
***
Wyatt muttered a curse as he stared at the letter bearing the seal of the House of Myers.
"Insolent bastard."
The wedding was now less than a week away.
Even in a political marriage, if the parents were alive, it was customary for the couple to visit them together to pay their respects. But with the wedding date approaching and no word from Grayson, Wyatt had sent him a letter to inquire subtly.
「Shouldn't we take our Edith to the Royal Palace to pay our respects?」
It was a long letter, but that was the gist of it. It also implied, *Shouldn't you come and pay your respects to me as well?* The days ticked by, but Grayson delayed his reply for a long time, finally sending one now, with less than a week to go.
「Marquis Reynolds.
Since we have both gained and lost something in this, let's dispense with the troublesome formalities.
Myers.」
The reply to Wyatt's long letter, filled with various greetings and flowery phrases, was short.
Truly, an unbearably insolent fellow.
'But the days he can act so arrogantly in front of me are numbered.'
After Eliana's death, Edith had become a piece of trash he couldn't throw away. Having spent so much time in the House of Reynolds, it was hard for Wyatt to guess just how much Edith knew.
She might know a great deal, or she might know nothing at all. He suspected she knew nothing, having lived her life cowering by her mother's side.
But one could never be sure.
He knew he would have to marry Edith off someday, but he couldn't predict how she would act once she left the House of Reynolds.
*It would be better if she just died, like Eliana.*
Ever since Eliana's death, Wyatt thought that every time he saw Edith.
*Should I kill her?*
But if Edith, her daughter, were to die less than a year after Eliana, people might not say it outright, but they would surely find the House of Reynolds strange. It would be a disaster if rumors started to spread that those who enter the House of Reynolds leave in a coffin.
So he had been waiting, thinking he would use her marriage as an opportunity. Then the King had proposed the match, and in that moment, his vague plan to murder Edith took on a perfect form.
Wyatt smirked.
'No, I've only gained.'
He would kill Edith at the wedding.
The wine they would share at the end of the ceremony while pledging their love. The cups for the man and woman were different colors. Edith's green cup would contain Plarin poison. It was a fast-acting poison; she would die coughing up blood before she even knew what was happening. The guests would scream.
'What should I do? Rushing to embrace Edith and weeping immediately would be too theatrical. Perhaps I should just stand there with my mouth agape, look flustered for a moment, and then run to her?'
He had already secured the person who would put the poison in Edith's cup. A woman named Juna who worked in the royal palace kitchen, a widow raising a child on her own. She was known for doting on her child, so as long as the Marquis held the boy's life in his hands, she would not betray him.
The wedding was being held at the Royal Palace. The royal family was preparing everything needed for the ceremony, so the poison in the cup would be their fault.
'At first, they'll scramble to find the culprit.'
It didn't matter if they couldn't find one. Wyatt planned to subtly spread a rumor that the poisoning was the work of a woman secretly in love with Grayson.
Gossipmongers, who loved a sensational story, would eagerly spread the tale, and the arrows of blame would be aimed at the royal family and Grayson.
'And I, too.'
Would gain the power to blame and manipulate the royal family and Grayson. I lost my precious daughter, whom I raised with love and care—not my biological daughter, but one I raised with affection—due to the carelessness of the royal family and Grayson.
Neither the royal family nor Grayson would be able to face Wyatt. At least until they found the culprit and assigned blame, it would be Wyatt's world.
-"W-what if something goes wrong? What if I'm caught on the spot...?"
Juna had asked, trembling, when Wyatt had taken her son hostage and explained what she had to do.
-"Confess and take your own life. Then I'll spare your son."
-"M-my Ben... How can my child live without me? My lord Marquis, please... please spare me. Please let my child go."
It had been quite enjoyable to watch Juna's despair. Seeing her cling to his leg stirred a flicker of lust, but he suppressed it so as not to jeopardize the plan.
-"If you do your part properly, your child will be safe. As a mother, you must know what's most important."
Using children as hostages was one of the Marquis's favorite methods. It was how he had obtained Eliana.
The women from humble families, who acted as if they would offer their very souls when their children were taken hostage, were so beautiful. The image of Eliana clinging to his leg was still vividly etched in his memory.
Wyatt crumpled Grayson's letter, which lay open on his desk, and tossed it into the wastebasket.
***
With Wyatt's conspiracy known only to a select few, the wedding day of Grayson, the youngest prince of the House of Riley and the Duke of Myers, and Edith, the youngest daughter of the Family of Marquis Reynolds, dawned.
Edith hadn't slept a wink the previous night. Not from excitement for the wedding, but because she had much to prepare.
First, she had to remove the cumbersome fake scabs from her face. It had been difficult to secretly steal the necessary tools from the kitchen to brew the medicine, and even more difficult to brew it without being discovered. Her room didn't even have a bathroom, so she had to move quietly in the dead of night when everyone was asleep, worried someone might walk in.
And so, as dawn broke, Edith had produced a bottle of a thick, brown liquid. Though it looked for all the world like muddy water, Edith drank it without hesitation.
A burning sensation seared her throat as it went down her esophagus. Her heart dropped, a feeling that something was wrong. *I trusted someone I shouldn't have.* For a fleeting moment, that thought crossed her mind.
But after about five minutes, the burning sensation subsided, and she returned to her normal state.
Just in case, she made a sound, "Ah, ah," and her voice came out fine. But the doubt, once it had taken root, did not easily subside.
'Will this really work?'
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