Chapter 25
“I don’t understand why you’re saying I’m not Lillian’s friend… And I don’t understand why you’re treating me so coldly today, either.”
Her response was utterly disappointing.
Did she take Diana for a fool? Even now, she remained evasive.
Annoyed, Diana didn’t respond immediately. The only sound filling the room was the dull tapping of her fingers against the table’s edge.
Scarlett swallowed hard, the audible gulp breaking the silence.
With a pointed smirk, Diana finally spoke, her voice laced with a deceptive sweetness.
“Lady Parlier, Lily is a name reserved for those who are truly special to me. Are you absolutely certain that you are entitled to use it?”
In high society, rank equaled power.
A mere baron’s daughter using an affectionate nickname so freely was unacceptable unless explicitly permitted by the other party.
While it wasn’t a crime, it was certainly an issue that could be raised—especially when the one using it was impersonating a dear friend.
Scarlett hesitated, clearly understanding the weight of Diana’s words.
Her eyes darted around, as if searching for an excuse. The effort of scrambling for an answer was almost audible.
“Go on, then. I’m willing to listen. But if you stay silent, I’ll have no choice but to summon the guards.”
“L-Lady Mernard!”
Scarlett flinched and immediately corrected her form of address.
Diana’s suspicions were confirmed.
“You had your chance, and you chose not to take it. I see no other option.”
“W-Wait, please!”
“If you have something urgent to say, you may explain yourself to His Highness.”
Diana deliberately mentioned Ersivan next.
If she escalated the matter to the Duke’s authority, Scarlett would surely become even more frightened and confess everything.
“…Fine. Take me to His Highness. I will prove myself to him.”
“…Lady Parlier, did I hear you correctly? You wish to meet with the Duke himself?”
“If that is what you require, I have no reason to refuse.”
Yet instead of cowering, Scarlett stood as if ready to leave immediately.
Was I wrong?
Diana had been so sure.
Even if her logic had been slightly flawed, she had bet everything on this conclusion.
She had placed her faith in her reasoning, convinced that the probability of being mistaken was lower than the likelihood of uncovering a fraud.
She bit down on her lip hard, sharp pain blooming where her teeth pressed into the tender flesh.
For someone so afraid of him, she’s not the least bit shaken now…
Something about Scarlett’s absolute composure unnerved her.
It was difficult enough to prove one’s innocence in the presence of an intimidating figure.
And yet… Scarlett acted as though she was confident that Ersivan would believe her.
Whatever the truth was, Ersivan would punish Scarlett Parlier regardless.
He would never allow disgrace to stain Lillian Mernard’s name—or that of House Valencia.
Wait.
Had she been so focused on doubting Scarlett that she had overlooked something crucial?
Why did Ersivan allow her into the estate in the first place?
A man who personally screened every letter addressed to Diana…
Yet he had no qualms about letting a baron’s daughter walk right in?
Surely, he had investigated Scarlett’s connection to Lillian beforehand.
If they had been secret friends, he wouldn’t have found any records.
Then, at what point had Ersivan decided to trust her?
A lowly noble, a woman with no connection to Diana—why had he permitted her to stay?
“Ah.”
Diana’s lips parted as she let out a soundless gasp.
“She’s working for him.”
Everything suddenly clicked into place.
The tangled mess of doubts unraveled.
A long-standing thirst for answers was finally being quenched.
The scattered pieces of evidence now fit together perfectly.
“It’s not that you have no reason to refuse. It’s that you have no choice but to agree.”
“Pardon?”
“You have no choice because he is backing you. Isn’t that right?”
Scarlett’s face went deathly pale.
Diana delivered the final blow.
“If you are truly innocent, we should take this matter to the Mernard estate’s guards instead.”
Her heavy-lidded eyes cast a chilling shadow over her amethyst irises.
For the first time, her gaze was sharp enough to cut.
“A-Ah! My lady! Please, have mercy!”
Scarlett’s red hair tumbled forward as she collapsed at Diana’s feet.
Her once-pristine dress pooled around her in disarray, the jewels and fine embroidery suddenly looking pitiful.
It was clear—Diana’s threat had struck true.
“If you succeed, I’ll ensure you keep your title. If you fail, at the very least, I will protect you.”
“But if you end up in someone else’s hands, I cannot help you.”
If she was taken anywhere other than the Valencia estate, it was obvious what would happen.
Ersivan would discard her.
He detested nuisances.
And most of all, he had no patience for liabilities.
“P-Please… I—I have sinned terribly…!”
Victory now securely in her grasp, Diana leaned down, her expression softening into something more merciful.
“Raise your head.”
Gently, she lifted Scarlett’s chin.
The girl’s trembling eyes flickered up hesitantly, waiting for her judgment.
“I have no intention of punishing you,” Diana murmured, her voice soothing.
“So tell me, Scarlett.”
“…”
“What exactly is Your Highness plotting?”
Ersivan Valencia should have known—he wasn’t the only one who knew how to use people.
The conversation had lasted until the coachman from the baron’s estate arrived, announcing it was time for Lady Parlier to depart.
After bidding farewell to Scarlett, Diana dragged her weary steps back to the estate.
She wandered aimlessly through the corridors until she found herself standing before a portrait of Ersivan hanging in the central hallway.
He was seated with perfect posture, his gaze fixed forward with an air of absolute composure.
In this painting, Ersivan Valencia was the very image of nobility.
Of course, he would be.
She hated to admit it, but it was true.
That was why he could sit so high above others and see everything.
The mastermind behind it all—feigning ignorance when he first met Scarlett, orchestrating their encounters, pulling the strings while pretending to be uninvolved.
“What are you doing here?”
A voice interrupted her thoughts.
The very subject of her contempt had appeared.
How ironic—standing before his own portrait, just as she had been picking him apart in her mind.
“The painting is impressive,” she remarked dryly. “You must be returning from training.”
“Yes. And you? Have you sent off your dear friend safely?”
At the mention of Scarlett, Diana’s body stiffened instinctively.
Just how far was he planning to push her?
She had believed she understood him a little better by now, but that had been arrogance.
In truth, she still knew nothing about him.
“If you mean Lady Parlier, then yes, I just saw her off.”
“Such a cold choice of words. I almost feel hurt.”
“That’s because she’s not my friend, but yours, Your Highness.”
For a fraction of a second, his blinking slowed.
It was barely noticeable—so minuscule that only someone as hyperaware as Diana would have caught it.
Another person wouldn’t have even realized what it meant.
But she knew.
He was taken aback.
Hah.
Even someone as skilled at hiding his thoughts as Ersivan Valencia wasn’t completely impenetrable.
“If she’s my friend, then she is also yours,” he countered smoothly.
“It would be much easier to continue this conversation without that assumption.”
Her tone was sharper now, her irritation evident.
A rare flicker of genuine frustration leaked into her voice.
To an outsider, it might have looked like she was the one picking a fight for no reason.
Ersivan’s expression remained as mild and innocent as ever.
“Your Highness wears such an expression of confusion,” Diana muttered, shaking her head. “They say ignorance is bliss, but right now, it’s poisoning me.”
“I would very much like to understand you, but I fear I truly have no idea what you’re referring to.”
Of course he doesn’t.
She should have known better than to expect a confession from someone like him.
“I meant that I’m growing tired of playing along with your game.”
“My game, you say…”
“Yes. You granted a mere maid a noble title, then ordered her to pretend to be my closest friend.”
Diana recalled Scarlett’s flustered confession:
“His Highness told me to act as if I were your dear friend. About half a year before you arrived, he suddenly granted me a title and hired tutors to teach me etiquette.”
“Do you know why?”
“No! He specifically told me not to ask questions. I was just grateful for the money and the title, so I did as I was told…!”
What was the purpose of this elaborate deception?
If he had merely wanted to taunt her, this scheme was far too excessive.
Yes, her anger had been successfully provoked—but for the amount of wealth and effort he had poured into this ploy, that result was insignificant.
If only she could pry open his mind and see what lay inside.
He really is an unfathomable man.
“You’re right,” he admitted without hesitation. “There’s no excuse. I owe you an apology, Lily.”
His voice softened as he stepped closer, his tone laced with something almost fragile.
But Diana didn’t believe it.
This apology was just another performance—a carefully crafted display to appease her.
“You know I’m not asking for an apology,” she shot back. “What I want is an explanation.”
“I simply wanted you to have a good friend,” he replied, his voice as light as a whisper. “Scarlett is kind and innocent. I didn’t think she would ever bring you harm.”
The way he stood there, shoulders slumped, drenched in melancholy…
For a brief moment, her heart wavered.
She prided herself on being rational.
Yet even she was vulnerable to that otherworldly face—so dangerously beautiful that it could bend even the strongest of wills.
“No.”
She wouldn’t fall for it.
She forced herself to remember what was truly important.
If he had truly wanted to introduce a friend, he could have simply done so.
What Diana really wanted to understand was why he had orchestrated the illusion of a long-standing friendship.
A man as calculating as Ersivan wouldn’t have risked something so easy to expose without a reason.
“Was it espionage?”
If he had merely introduced someone new, there would be limits to what they could uncover.
But by fabricating an already established friendship, he gave Scarlett a stronger position.
And yet, something still didn’t make sense.
Why go through all that trouble if it would fall apart so easily?
If she was always going to find out, what was the point?
“I won’t get an answer now. It’s better to let it go for the moment.”
For now, she needed to pretend to accept his explanation.
Keeping up appearances benefited her more than remaining hostile.
“How pitiful, that I even have to think this way.”
She sighed, feeling a deep exhaustion settle over her.
Reaching out, she gently touched his face.
The moment she did, his head tilted toward her palm—like a stalk of rice bowing under its own weight.
So easily, so naturally drawn in.
It was the same motion as Scarlett’s, but the difference was striking.
Unlike Scarlett, who had collapsed in desperation, Ersivan was merely playing his role.
Even now, he wasn’t truly apologizing.
Of course. A man like him would never sincerely ask for forgiveness—from the daughter of his enemy, no less.
The thought infuriated her.
“Is this warmth meant to symbolize forgiveness?”
At once, he seized upon the moment, seamlessly shifting the atmosphere to one of reconciliation.
Like a wild beast that had cowered for sympathy—only to pounce the second the hunter lowered their weapon.
