Chapter 23
Hermia stopped mocking Gerald at the mention of the author. He began to calmly recount a recent incident.
“If you read the newspaper yesterday, you’d know that a warrant has been issued for the author of ‘The Stolen Lady’ They charged him with various offenses, but really, it’s all my fault. I was involved in that…”
“Where you were portrayed as a loose man.”
“…Exactly. Anyway, the publishing house was heavily fined, and a summons was sent to the author, but he didn’t show up on the appointed date. So, a public warrant was issued.”
As he spoke, he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper with an unbelievable message written in red ink:
[How dare you treat me this way? You will pay dearly for it. A terrible curse will befall all four of you, so wipe your feet and wait.]
Gerald watched Hermia as she stared at the torn manuscript in disbelief.
“The royal police found it on a desk. The author had already vanished after leaving that message. Apparently, he had planned to run away as soon as he received the summons; all his belongings were gone.”
“So the four people mentioned here are…?”
“I expected it to be me, Walter, and Melissa, but the last person seems to be you. At first, I thought it might be Count Arnold…”
He pointed at Hermia.
“I just found out that the last person is Hermia Vansen—it’s you.”
Could this be true? Is this absurd situation really due to a curse from the author?
It was hard to accept at first, but if the curse was real, everything would make sense. But could curses actually happen?
After a moment of confusion, she suddenly asked, “Does the Duke know about this? If what you said is true, then that means the Duke is also cursed.”
“Of course. I told him first.”
“He didn’t say anything to me yesterday…”
Gerald made a face that suggested that was impossible.
“Hermia, your fiancé is a stubborn realist. If you think he’s inflexible, you should know his grandfather would be amazed by his doggedness. He almost got slapped for being persistent.”
If manners were a person, they would be Walter Rockford—what kind of nonsense was that?
Hermia’s trust in his words wavered, and she returned to the main topic. “So does that mean the Duke isn’t cursed?”
“I wouldn’t know. Since you and I are showing completely different symptoms, I can’t make any assumptions until he tells me himself. It seems like the manifestations occur at different times for each person.”
“What’s the Prince’s curse?”
“That’s difficult to explain right now… I’ll visit soon. I’ll have to prove it to our Colonel as well.”
Gerald ended with an ambiguous statement and added playfully,
“Just don’t be too surprised when you see it.”
After finishing his recollection, Hermia poured more tea into her empty cup. After downing two cups in quick succession, she finally calmed her racing heart.
No matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t understand why that author named Joel would cast such a curse.
Did this mean she had to continue living like this until he was caught and could lift the curse?
“Why take out his anger on characters when the royal family issued the warrant? What kind of crazy person does that?”
Goodness. She say bad things come all at once; it was truly happening.
Feeling frustrated again as she poured her third cup of tea, a terrifying voice came from behind her.
“Are you feeling better now?”
“…”
He really is persistent. Hermia immediately pressed her forehead with her hand.
‘What should I do? Should I faint again? I don’t think I could trick them twice.’
The Countess stood up so abruptly upon seeing Elisabeth that her chair fell over as she rushed to support her.
“My goodness, I can’t believe the Princess herself…”
“I never imagined you’d know Gerald as well. It’s quite surprising in many ways.”
Seeing the Princess approach her table made Hermia feel like their interrupted conversation would resume. She silently applauded in her heart.
“I was just surprised earlier…”
She started to say but stopped when she noticed a familiar face next to the Princess glaring at her coldly.
“…Irene.”
“Please show some respect. It’s an honor that I’ve just become Princess Elisabeth’s maid, Hermia,” Irene said arrogantly with her arms crossed. She emphasized each syllable of Hermia’s name distinctly.
At this point, Hermia couldn’t help but smile. How predictable everything was turning out.
“How nice for you, Irene. Now no one can look down on the Schwein family.”
“What did you say?”
“You’ve always said it. Nobles in the capital are all unlucky. They look down on you to your face and cowardly curse you behind your back…”
Her eyes rolled dramatically before stopping suddenly.
“Did you say garbage?”
“Don’t exaggerate! I didn’t call them garbage! Ugh!”
She knew this would happen. Even though Irene wasn’t cursed like her, her habit of speaking without thinking hadn’t changed.
It wasn’t intentional when she called them garbage; apparently, she could speak freely about vague memories without issue. Ah, now she remembered.
Hermia smiled knowingly and calmly corrected herself. “Right. You called them hypocrites.”
Elisabeth clicked her tongue while looking disdainfully at her maid.
“You seem perfectly fine now—hard to believe you were someone who fainted just moments ago.”
“Right now I’m feeling a bit weak; I’ve always been healthy.”
The gloomy demeanor she had shown earlier was completely gone; now her voice sounded almost indifferent. Elisabeth seemed to realize who Hermia truly was and twisted her mouth in response.
“…Lady Vansen, what exactly is your daughter saying to me? Is it possible that due to her birth circumstances, her mind isn’t quite right?”
Elisabeth directed her arrows toward the Countess while keeping her eyes fixed on Hermia.
The Countess broke out in a cold sweat as she stammered in response.
“I must have failed in my teachings… I truly tried my best… treating her like my own daughter…”
“No, that’s not right. It wasn’t when she was very young; I heard she was adopted when she was older; so strictly speaking…”
At that moment, all traces of humor disappeared from Hermia’s face. The tips of her fingers grew cold rapidly.
“It must be due to the influence of her lowborn mother…”
“Excuse me! That’s fine and all, but please don’t insult my mother!”
The courtyard in front of the Princess’s villa instantly filled with an eerie silence. Hermia began trembling with rage as she clenched her fists tightly and spoke in a suppressed voice.
“Maybe if it were my father… but don’t talk about my mother!”
“Hey, who do you think you’re talking to…?”
“Who do you think I’m talking to?”
Hermia asked back as she reached her limit of patience. Her blue eyes, which had seemed cold until now, suddenly blazed with fiery intensity.
“Yes! How dare you speak like that? I am a Princess of this country! You are nothing more than a half-breed with vulgar blood!”
“How dare you call me vulgar! Who are you calling half-breed!”
Hermia grabbed hold of the edge of a flat table and lifted it up completely. The lace-trimmed white tablecloth fluttered before crashing down! The wooden table flipped over entirely.
“Oh no!”
The young ladies near the table screamed and scattered as tea splashed everywhere.
A loud clatter echoed as teacups rolled across the floor before silence enveloped the party venue like a shroud.
Amongst the crowd that had gathered like clouds were only Elisabeth and Hermia standing firm in their places.
Elisabeth looked pale as flour while Hermia still breathed heavily from unquenched anger.
It seemed like her fierce anger was infecting Elisabeth.
‘She gets this angry just from mentioning her birth mother?’
Unfortunately for Elisabeth, there wasn’t even an ounce of understanding toward illegitimate children in her mind; all she could think about was how someone dared to defy and threaten her.
“This… this is terrorism! An act of terror against my life!”
Snapping back to reality, Elisabeth shouted sharply while pointing fingers at Hermia. A few royal guards nearby rushed over immediately at the Princess’s cry.
“Arrest that terrorist! Quickly take them away!”
The threatening word “terrorist” made them draw their weapons and take aim at Hermia—a defenseless woman—but their demeanor was frighteningly serious.
“Don’t move!”
“D-Don’t shoot! I’m an innocent noblewoman!”
The Countess trembled and waved her hands helplessly after having collapsed when the table flipped over.
Meanwhile, one of the guards slowly approached from behind Hermia. The guard waited for an opportunity before grabbing Hermia tightly from behind.
“Arrested on suspicion of attempting terrorism—arresting…”
“What’s going on! Let go! Let go of me!”
Realizing too late that soldiers had surrounded her, she struggled fiercely against him. However, no matter how much she fought back against his strength, it was tough to escape from a young man’s grip.
Hermia prepared herself to pour all her strength into resisting him. Just as one guard expected not to be easily subdued and tried to push her down onto the ground, a loud bang echoed nearby like an explosion.
People screamed simultaneously as they covered their heads and crouched down. When guards turned toward where the noise came from, dozens of gun barrels were aimed directly at them.
“Everyone down!”
Walter commanded while reloading his revolver after releasing a puff of smoke into the air above him.
