Chapter 10: What It Means to Become Real
Despite his calm, low exclamation, Cody Ferret’s face was overcome with shock in that moment.
“That’s quite an expensive suit you’ve ruined.”
Kaylon calmly gazed at the man who had frozen with his mouth agape, casually brushing off his own clothes with an indifferent hand.
“Compensation seems necessary, Lord Cody.”
Smirking, his smile finally made Cody Ferret, now aware of this sudden situation, fidget uncomfortably as he pulled out a handkerchief from his breast pocket. He then immediately extended his hand toward the red-stained suit.
“My apologies, Duke Lianton.”
Kaylon took a step back, rejecting his gesture.
“Apologies should be shown through sincerity, not merely spoken, don’t you agree?”
“What? H-how much…”
“I wonder. It might be more expensive than your worth.”
At this arrogant gaze that assessed him from top to bottom, Cody Ferret’s brow suddenly contorted. To be treated as less valuable than the clothes on his body—it was an insult that deeply wounded his pride.
Moreover, not only had the Duke appeared suddenly from behind, but he seemed to be enjoying himself despite ruining an expensive outfit. What was that about? Anyone who wasn’t a fool would know the Duke had approached with intent.
However, faced with those golden eyes devoid of warmth, tension mounted once again. The Duke appeared angry enough to extinguish any thoughts Cody might have had about possibly enjoying this further.
‘Damn. I didn’t think he’d know everything…’
Cody Ferret enjoyed toying with women as much as he understood their habits. He knew that no woman, no matter how tough she seemed, would casually report being touched by another man.
But seeing the Duke standing before him with a man’s eyes made him realize how complacent he had been. His mistake was following her into the forest, unable to overcome his momentary lust.
‘I heard he didn’t care about her.’
Was his mistake eavesdropping on what the goddess-worshipping crowd was babbling about? As he lowered his eyes in belated regret, a thought flashed through Cody Ferret’s mind like lightning.
No, that wasn’t it. After all, he hadn’t succeeded… So what if he just denied it? There were no witnesses, so why should he lower his tail? He would only appear to be admitting guilt.
‘Ah, but her scent was to die for.’
The memory alone made his lower body stir. Suddenly emboldened, he glanced down at his growing bulge before meeting Caylen’s gaze again.
“The House of Lianton is truly different, I see. You have the luxury of wearing clothes more expensive than the worth of a mere baron’s second son.”
At Cody Ferret’s sarcasm, the sound of someone swallowing hard could be heard from behind. Gazes that seemed to question his sanity stung sharply, but he squared his shoulders even more proudly.
Looking at the man armed with needless bravado, Kaylon let out a derisive laugh. His face was full of composure, as if he were listening to the most trivial nonsense.
“Because I can afford it.”
The explicitly condescending gaze made Cody Ferret clench his trembling fist tightly. Despite not wanting to get involved, seeing that arrogant face twisted his insides.
Great wealth, power second only to the royal family, and now an exquisite beauty by his side. The Duke possessed all the glory a man could have, which made Cody both envious and infuriatingly annoyed.
“We should move elsewhere.”
“Where to? If it’s about compensation, I can call someone from my family right here, right now.”
“Is that so? I don’t care who you call. However, the fact that you’ll have to kneel before me won’t change.”
The sound of teeth grinding was clearly audible at this blatantly mocking statement. To kneel and apologize in front of all these nobles?
‘Damn bastard.’
“What will it be? One cheap bend of the knee, and I can make it as if nothing happened.”
From the spectators who had gathered, there seemed to be the sound of tittering laughter. Grinding his teeth, Cody Ferret forced the corners of his mouth to lift, unable to respond to the insulting words.
“Lead the way.”
“Well thought, Sir Cody. I commend your wise choice.”
Within the polite tone lay a sharp warning. This wasn’t aimed solely at Cody Ferret.
It was a silent rebuke to those who participated in reckless acts without the courage to confront him directly, or to the stupid bastards who would do the same in the future.
In other words, it was a wordless admonition directed at those mixed among the spectators or those covering their mouths without making a sound behind him.
As their gazes met his golden eyes, which had grown so cold they seemed to boil with icy heat, those who felt the sting hurriedly turned their heads away.
A faint sneer hung on the edge of his lips before disappearing. Kaylon finally regarded Cody Ferret directly before moving forward. Behind him, the sound of sluggish footsteps following and bursts of relieved breaths mingled together.
* * *
Lyra paused in front of the cloakroom, hesitating to step inside. A belated doubt surfaced—was it really her place to intervene?
“Never lower yourself unnecessarily.”
Of all times, why did Mrs. Beightle’s frequent admonition have to come to mind now?
But the fact remained that this could be her opportunity—a perfect chance to restore her image and work her way into the ladies’ inner circle.
Finally, her hesitant hand turned the doorknob. She entered the room to the sound of someone’s agitated breathing.
Leona Vuitton. The beloved niece of the Marchioness of Pompagneu and the firstborn daughter of the Vuitton earldom.
The lady who normally avoided balls entirely, absorbed in her own interests, had for some reason decided to attend today’s party.
Lyra quietly approached the woman known for her strange temperament and choleric tendencies.
“What’s this? Why are you so late?”
Leona whipped her head around, eyes widening at the sight of Lyra. She’d expected a maid, and her expression soured at Lyra’s unexpected appearance.
“Why are you here? Get out immediately.”
Leona helpfully pointed toward the door with her finger.
“I have business here too,” Lyra replied.
“Aren’t there plenty of other rooms? Surely you don’t need this specific one?”
“Well, I rather like it here.”
“Hmph! How dare you try such tricks?”
Leona had heard the rumors about Lyra. Even someone who never attended social events would know, as long as their eyes and ears functioned properly.
Between the incessant gossip and the daily newspaper articles, everything lately revolved around Lyra Norris. Naturally, Leona could tell that this woman—who had suddenly appeared and earned the collective hatred of Brikna’s social circles—was approaching her with clear intentions.
Despite having her motives exposed by the surprisingly perceptive Leona, Lyra pretended not to notice and lowered herself onto the plush sofa. She picked up a newspaper someone had left behind, acting as if she’d truly come just to rest.
As Lyra showed no further interest, Leona’s agitated breathing gradually subsided.
Lyra smiled faintly as her eyes skimmed the large headlines. She hadn’t been able to read the papers recently, so this seemed fortuitous. But as her gaze traveled down the page, her expression gradually darkened.
“…”
‘What is all this?’
The space that should have been reserved for significant events was filled entirely with stories about her. The titles were so lurid she could hardly believe her eyes, alongside all manner of speculative articles even denying her origins.
Exaggerations, distortions, baseless conjectures.
Articles that finally explained how Lyra Norris had somehow become a vulgar courtesan, why the nobility despised and avoided her to such an excessive degree.
“So vulgar! Using that body to ensnare a duke! A lowly courtesan with such audacity!”
The whispers directed at her.
“How dare she come to a place like this…!”
The contemptuous gazes that followed as if it were only natural.
It wasn’t simply because she had mistreated Davira Claudia. This perfect creation of “Brikna’s vermin” must have resulted from the underlying aversion toward her combined with the malicious rumors.
The newspaper crumpled silently in her grip.
‘Who could it be?’
Who had spread such malicious rumors?
The faces of all the people she’d committed to memory appeared and disappeared in sequence. But none of them had any personal connection to her. And some of the articles contained relatively accurate information.
In that moment, ironically, she recalled the card Count Almar had given her—that cunning question about whether she truly believed in the duke.
“…”
Surely not…
‘It couldn’t be.’
Even if the duke had asked her to become a villainess, it couldn’t have been like this. It would also cause the Lianton duchy’s reputation to plummet.
Her role was to keep Davira Claudia in check at the duke’s side, obstruct her love, and ultimately make her give up on the love she had cherished all her life.
To be appropriately despised, to appropriately provoke, to appropriately stir up the social circles before disappearing.
Wasn’t that her role and what he had most desired?
“I’d like you to do me a favor. It’s nothing too difficult.”
“You don’t need to do anything special. Just your existence alone will make you a villainess.”
No, perhaps it had been intentional from the beginning. He needed a woman who would be reviled regardless of her actions. A woman who couldn’t even protest no matter what was done to her.
“How foolish! Have you ever considered how painful it is to live under others’ scrutiny? How a woman with nothing becomes such easy prey, how many people will gossip about her! Do you really think you can endure those thorny words that sometimes deny your very existence?”
‘You were right, madam.’
Everything you said was correct.
