Chapter 31
The Grand Duke and Grand Duchess did not share the same bedchamber every night. While serving as Cecilia’s lady-in-waiting, Illina came to know this fact.
They only appeared close when others were watching. Especially when Illina’s eyes were on them, Cecilia would make an obvious display of affection toward Eden.
“Bring me His Grace’s attendant.”
At Illina’s command, Sally hesitated, glancing around nervously before quietly leaving the bedchamber. Not long after, Eden’s attendant followed her into Illina’s room.
“You summoned me, my lady?”
The uproar in the mansion seemed not to have reached his ears—he remained as courteous as ever.
“Has His Grace returned to his bedchamber?”
“Yes, he returned alone.”
He even offered information Illina hadn’t asked for. Smiling in satisfaction, Illina slipped a coin into his hand.
“Oh, and His Grace said he wished to see you.”
Of course. There was no way Cecilia had truly come to any agreement with Eden. Illina’s eyes sparkled.
“He said he’d like to speak with you, as you mentioned earlier.”
“Ah, I see. It seems we’ll be having a meaningful conversation, then. Please prepare His Grace’s favorite wine. I’m counting on you.”
Tonight, Eden and Cecilia would not be sharing a bed. Illina was certain of it as she stood in front of Eden’s chamber, dressed in her nightclothes. Perhaps due to the late hour, there was no one stationed outside his door.
‘If I had even once lain with my husband, perhaps I’d know if there was a difference. But we’ve never even so much as touched. Where does she get that confidence?’
Illina’s gaze turned sharp as she recalled Cecilia’s scornful words. That foolish and careless woman had nothing over her—except for her father’s title and wealth.
‘Illina. Everything the Duke of Rain possesses will one day be yours. So whatever Cecilia Rain owns is as good as yours already.’
In truth, even that was practically hers.
“A Grand Duke is still just a man.”
Men were no exception. From the time she was a girl, Illina had seen countless men who worshipped her. Her father, her brother—they were all the same. When it came to a beautiful woman, they’d lose their wits. Why would Eden be any different?
Tonight was bound to happen—if not now, then eventually.
Without hesitation, Illina opened the Grand Duke’s door. It creaked softly as it swung open. The room was dark; only the faint light from a hallway lamp spilled inside, stretching like a narrow path across the floor.
“Your Grace, it’s Illina.”
Glancing at the wine bottle and empty glasses on the side table, Illina quietly shut the door behind her. She walked softly toward the figure in the bed. Her steps weren’t trained for sneaking into others’ rooms at night, but like a cat’s, they were elegant and light.
“Your Grace?”
Illina called softly. He didn’t stir—sound asleep.
So he called her over, only to drink himself unconscious?
Silently, she climbed onto the bed. It tilted slightly beneath her. A faint smell of alcohol lingered in the air. Without hesitation, Illina settled into one side of the large bed. Imagining Eden waking and greeting her, she stifled a quiet giggle.
At that moment, the moonlight—once hidden by clouds—suddenly poured in through the window. A head of gleaming blond hair caught the light.
“…?”
Blond? Not brown?
Illina blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of it. Before she could even react, the man in the bed stirred and slowly sat up.
“Kyaa!”
Blond hair. Green eyes. The Duke of Rain.
…Curtis Rain?
It wasn’t Eden. Shocked, Illina screamed before she could stop herself. The once-silent mansion jolted awake with the sound.
“What’s going on?!”
Illina scrambled up in a panic, but in her haste, she lost her footing and slipped off the bed. At that very moment, the door burst open. Eden stood there—with his attendants.
“Why is Lady Nova here?”
Eden stepped past his attendants and into the room. His gaze, fixed on the woman who had fallen from another man’s bed wearing practically nothing, was colder than ice.
“I—I… Your Grace…”
Under that frigid stare, Illina trembled like a rabbit caught in a trap.
“I doubt you were unaware that this is my chamber.”
Of course she knew. Eden had summoned her—she was certain of it. But why was Curtis sleeping here, and Eden standing before her?
“Y-You summoned me, Your Grace…”
Illina wrapped her arms around herself, trying to explain.
“Me?”
Eden looked down at her, as if hearing nonsense, a mocking smile tugging at his lips.
“Your attendant clearly—!”
“Your Grace, is something wrong?”
At that moment, Cecilia knocked on Eden’s door, clearly awakened by the disturbance.
“It’s nothing. Go back to sleep, Cecilia.”
Eden sighed and opened the door slightly. Through the gap, Cecilia appeared, draped in a shawl over her nightdress. She seemed unfazed by showing her disheveled state to Eden.
Only then did Illina realize—Eden had spent the night with Cecilia. That attendant—he had lied! After taking her money!
“…Illina?”
While Illina trembled from shock and humiliation, Cecilia noticed her. Eden, about to guide Cecilia back with a hand on her shoulder, let out a quiet sigh.
“I heard someone screaming and came to check—only to find Lady Nova here. It seems she slipped from the bed.”
Cecilia blinked, confused.
“Father… did you call Illina to your bedchamber?”
“Why would I do that? I was asleep.”
Curtis rubbed his face in bafflement. Being awoken by someone screaming was startling enough—but to find a woman—his vassal’s daughter, no less—in his bed? How could he have imagined it?
“…Illina.”
“……”
“Were you aiming for the Grand Duke, or was it my father?”
Cecilia’s gaze turned back to Illina.
“Speak. Or has someone glued your mouth shut?”
Her voice, though elegant, carried no courtesy—only cold contempt.
“If it was the Grand Duke, then you’re nothing but a harlot trying to seduce your mistress’s husband. And if it was my father, then it must be one of Count Nova’s schemes, greedy for power.”
Either way, it was the worst possible answer. Illina bit down hard on her lower lip.
“His Grace said he wanted to talk—he told me to come to his bedchamber!”
Even if what she had believed turned out to be a lie, this was the only way she could claim she had acted with dignity.
“At this hour? In secret? In his bedchamber?”
Cecilia let out a short, incredulous laugh, as if the very idea was absurd.
“Is that true, Your Grace?”
“It is not.”
Eden firmly and unambiguously denied Illina’s claim.
“Bring His Grace’s attendant here.”
Turning slightly, Cecilia called out to a maid hovering in the hallway.
“And go to Illina’s room. Search it thoroughly. If you find even a single piece of incriminating evidence, bring it to me immediately.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The maid darted off into the dark corridor. Cecilia calmly looked down at the woman kneeling on the floor in her nightclothes.
Her memory returned to the day Lady Monte had handed her the copied letter. Though Lady Monte hadn’t known the contents and had written it as if sketching, Cecilia had been able to read it just fine.
‘Calling off the engagement to Duke Rain…’
Illina must have suggested that Eden, as Crown Prince and Grand Duke, was a better match. A sensible parent would have scolded her, but Count Nova had done no such thing.
‘So they were already scheming back then.’
But it wasn’t surprising, given how long the Nova family had been planning to betray the House of Rain.
‘Now, what should I do with them?’
In her previous life, neither Curtis nor Cecilia had known any of this. If Cecilia hadn’t retained her past memories this time, she too would have been caught off guard.
That’s why they had been so smug—so convinced of their superiority. Her gentle smiles and kindness must have seemed foolish to them.
“Your Grace, you summoned me?”
Eden’s attendant entered, bowing his head with caution.
“Did you deliver a message from His Grace, telling Illina to go to his bedchamber?”
“No, never! Why would I do such a thing?!”
The attendant recoiled in shock, denying it vehemently.
“You took money from me and told me to come!”
“Your Grace. I have everything.”
It didn’t matter. The important thing was that Illina Nova had been exposed—and with her, the Nova family’s ambitions and deceitful schemes.
The servant, acting on Cecilia’s orders, had searched through all of Illina’s belongings—even her undergarments—and retrieved every letter exchanged with Count Nova.
Lady Monte, as if waiting for this moment, handed Cecilia the letter. After the previous dispute, servants tasked by Lady Monte had been watching Illina and Sally all day, leaving them no chance to destroy it.
“Looking at this letter, it seems you were after both, weren’t you?”
“……”
“My father—and my husband.”
Cecilia spoke as if she were seeing the letter’s contents for the first time. Illina lowered her gaze, biting her lip until it almost bled.
“And what is this talk of taxes and accounting, Illina?”
Cecilia asked calmly. Illina’s face had turned deathly pale.
“Father, did you create any new tax categories?”
“No. I never gave Count Nova any such indication.”
Curtis shook his head, firmly denying it. In times of famine, it was unthinkable that he would impose new taxes.
“Your Grace, may I request a formal audit from the Crown Prince? I’ve heard the number of enslaved people and the tax records don’t match. This seems serious.”
In cases like this, the first to report won. Cecilia, more than anyone, knew that well—thanks to her memories of a past life.
“That sounds like a good idea.”
Eden nodded readily—so readily that it seemed almost strange.
Of course, Eden wasn’t agreeing out of suspicion toward Curtis. For Cecilia, who already held substantial evidence, it was a favorable development.
“Father, you had no knowledge of any of this?”
“None at all.”
Curtis responded with a pained expression, and Eden didn’t appear to doubt his sincerity.
It wasn’t uncommon for vassals to ruin a territory with greed while their lord stayed at the townhouse. Besides, Eden had already come to distrust the Nova family.
“Then all we need to do is wait for the results. I leave it to you, Your Grace.”
Cecilia’s gaze returned to Illina, who sat frozen in place, her face a mask of despair. Her expression was impossible to read.
“You always boasted about how clever you were.”
“……”
“And this is what it amounts to, Illina?”
Her voice was soft—so gentle it might have sounded kind to anyone else.
“There’s no fool like a clever fool.”
Yet beneath that sweetness, a faint chuckle of mockery echoed through her words.
