WHYMCF 17

Chapter 17

“I’m sorry for causing trouble without explaining anything to you. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but I can’t seem to fix that habit.”

“……”

“But in that moment, I couldn’t just ignore the best method that came to mind.”

How could using oneself like a tool ever be the best method?

The words rose to his throat, but Calix forced himself to swallow them.

“Come to think of it, I forgot to thank you. Calix, thank you for earlier. I’m glad you were beside me today.”

And yet, just one sentence like that melts me so easily. I’m such an idiot.

With a self-mocking thought, Calix placed his hand over the small hand resting on her knee.

The warmth beneath his palm was lovely. The pink eyes that watched him closely, as if observing his reaction, were the same.

Did she look at the First Prince like this before?

Facing Lizbeth, Calix parted his lips.

“I’m glad I could be of help to you, Lady.”

A small smile formed along with a faint sigh.

When Lizbeth saw the corners of Calix’s lips finally relax, she smiled as well.

“When we get home, carry me to my room.”

“Is that alright?”

“Yeah. If you say you saved me… well, maybe you’ll earn some points too? I can’t keep being disliked forever.”

Now sounding much more relaxed, Lizbeth murmured casually.

Calix listened to her voice with the same gentle smile.

But Lizbeth would never know.

How hard he was trying not to tighten the hand resting over hers on her knee.

* * *

The study of the Marchioness of Rosemary.

With the lights brightly lit, the Marchioness took a pen and letter paper out from her desk drawer.

Beside her lay a card with the name of a certain young noble written on it.

“Haah…”

The first letter she wrote was to the president of a newspaper she sponsored.

But when she picked up another sheet of paper, the Marchioness sighed deeply and couldn’t move her pen right away.

Among the nobles, she was known as someone with wide connections—a social butterfly who had survived in this harsh society for a long time.

Because of that, she was better than anyone at recognizing people.

To survive in this world, you had to judge people well and build strategies according to who you dealt with.

The Lady of House Armiersha is someone you must never turn into an enemy.

The Marchioness rolled the pen in her hand thoughtfully.

The moment she saw Lizbeth Armiersha, soaked with water at the banquet, she had come to that conclusion.

Those pink eyes staring straight at her.

Remembering them, the Marchioness frowned slightly.

In front of others, she pretended to be pitiful and fragile.

But those were not the eyes of a truly pitiful woman.

They were eyes that carried a sword instead of a flower.

I never expected the second daughter of the Armiersha ducal house to have such eyes.

The paper rustled.

At last, as if making up her mind, the Marchioness lowered her pen onto the letter.

Lizbeth Armiersha had been creating the situation—manipulating it so that people’s thoughts moved only in ways favorable to her.

People who can do that always end up causing some kind of incident.

The Marchioness had a name for such people.

Moths.

People who throw themselves into danger without hesitation for the sake of their goals.

Which makes them extremely dangerous.

At that banquet, the truly dangerous one had not been Calix—

it had been Lizbeth.

“It would be wise to choose my side carefully…”

Especially since that moth had a power behind her that could never be ignored.

Scratch, scratch.

The sound of the pen moved smoothly across the paper.

Lizbeth Armiersha would one day accomplish whatever she intended to do.

No matter what it took.

The Marchioness made her choice quickly—just as she always had in order to survive in this world.

“When a moth begins to flap its wings, it’s better not to get caught in it.”

You never know when sparks will fly and the fire will spread.

Muttering to herself, the Marchioness placed the letter and the card meant for Lizbeth into the same envelope.

* * *

Lady, I sincerely apologize for what happened that day. To ensure that such an unfortunate incident never occurs again…

In the Marchioness’s letter, it was written that the young count who had threatened Lizbeth that day had been permanently banned from her banquets.

As expected, she understood what I meant. Good.

Being expelled from the Marchioness’s banquets was practically the same as being socially buried.

The Marchioness had close relationships with influential figures in high society. No one would dare invite someone she had publicly marked as a troublemaker.

And being buried in society would soon weaken that family as well.

A count’s family aligned with the First Prince… What an unexpected gain.

Reading the personal information about the young noble that had been enclosed, Lizbeth leisurely sipped her tea.

She had wondered what a mere count’s son was relying on to behave so arrogantly.

It turned out his father held a position in the House of Nobles and was a close associate of Frederick.

Which meant that, by using this, she could also touch Frederick’s faction.

Did I know this family in my previous life?

Since she couldn’t remember them, they were probably one of the many families Frederick had used and discarded.

Well, cutting ties before they collapse is good for both sides.

With a small smile, Lizbeth wrote her reply to the Marchioness.

Please don’t worry, Marchioness. Fortunately, my father listened to me. Nothing will happen that would damage your reputation.

Soon after, newspaper articles appeared.

<Armiersha Lady Assaulted? Ducal Family Demands Massive Compensation!>

<“How could anyone wound a lady like that…” Waves of criticism pour in…>

<Duke Armiersha declares he will strongly respond to all defamation from now on!>

It had been worth it to wrap bandages around the places marked by fingerprints and walk around looking pitiful.

Lizbeth enjoyed reading the articles before stretching out across the sofa.

It’s a shame Calix couldn’t be highlighted more heroically…

Still, it seemed Calix had earned definite points with her family.

Especially with the Duchess—her mother.

“Sir Calix, thank you so much. Since we’ll soon be family, I suppose I’ve been a little too cold to you.”

After that, the Duchess took special care of Calix, even sending gifts to the Rosemary estate and telling Marcella and the Duke to treat him better.

The two puffed up their cheeks and reluctantly agreed.

Calix managed to win over the real power in our house in one go.

The man who had instantly gone from thief to reliable future son-in-law looked rather uncomfortable about it.

As Lizbeth chuckled quietly remembering his bewildered expression—

Knock knock.

Someone knocked on the door.

“Noona, it’s me.”

Hearing the voice outside, Lizbeth quickly sat up.

“Come in, Claude.”

“I brought snacks so we can eat together.”

Opening the door, Claude gestured to the plate in his hand.

A beautifully baked lemon cake sat appetizingly on it.

Lizbeth nodded and pushed the newspaper aside.

“Come sit here.”

“I asked them to prepare the tea the way you like it.”

“Really? Thanks for thinking of that.”

Claude smiled brightly as he placed the plate and fork in front of Lizbeth.

Watching her cut a small piece of cake and eat it, he said cheerfully,

“They say sour food is good for pregnant women.”

“Cough!”

“Noona? Are you okay?”

Claude worriedly patted Lizbeth’s back.

Receiving the careful touch, Lizbeth wiped her mouth with a handkerchief.

Claude… he’s looking forward to having a niece or nephew more than anyone…

She felt sorry to be the older sister who would disappoint her younger brother’s expectations.

Lizbeth let out a small sigh.

Just then, a maid set down two teacups and milk-heavy tea in front of the siblings before quietly leaving.

Lizbeth took a sip, finally calming her startled heart.