The Reason Why the Forsaken Fake Returned Chapter 117

As the carriage sped down the endlessly stretching road, a mounted guardsman rode up and brought it to a halt. He didn’t know which house it belonged to, but the moment he confirmed the noble crest, he whipped off his hat and dismounted.

 

“Excuse me.”

 

He stepped up to the carriage and rapped on the window. A moment later, a man with a bored expression opened the door.

 

“What is it?”

 

“For public safety, I need to conduct an inspection.”

 

“Even so, this is already the fourth inspection.”

 

“His Majesty has only just ascended the throne. The kingdom is still unsettled, as you know. I ask for your cooperation, Lord.” Grinning with practiced ease, the guardsman drew two sheets of parchment from inside his coat. “May I have your name, Lord?”

 

“I’m Renoa Gordon. The lady beside me is my sister, Ophelia Gordon.”

 

“Gordon… Gordon, you say.” Murmuring to himself, the guardsman ran his eyes down one of the parchments and found the name on the list. “I thought at a glance you looked like Northerners. And I was right. A rather old baronial house, at that.”

 

“Are you done?” The man narrowed his brows as if shooing away an annoying insect and moved to close the door.

 

Startled, the guardsman hurriedly stopped him. “No, Lord. Just a moment.”

 

“…”

 

“May I see your sister’s face?” His smile was easy and affable, but his eyes were fixed on the robed woman inside. He was searching for the face drawn on the wanted sketch that had been distributed to the entire kingdom’s security forces. If he brought her in alive, without so much as a hair harmed, he’d receive a bounty big enough to let him idle away the rest of his life.

 

“It’ll only take a moment. There’s something I need to confirm.” The guardsman unfolded the parchment with the sketch and pressed his request again.

 

“What did you say…?”

 

At the demand that she lower her hood, the man’s previously impassive face slowly twisted. The moment his eyes flashed with murderous intent and his hand groped for the gun at his waist, the guardsman felt his life was in danger and took a step back.

 

At that instant, the sister, who had been sitting silently inside, reached out and caught her brother’s hand to stop him. “Brother.”

 

“…”

 

He glanced back at his sister and hesitated for a heartbeat. In that pause, a cold voice dropped over the guardsman’s head.

 

“That parchment of yours lists our region and family name, but it seems it doesn’t say what kind of family we are.”

 

“What kind… of family?”

 

“We’re the Gordon family, one of the most conservative houses in the North. An unmarried woman cannot lightly show her face to a man outside the family before she’s wed.” His voice was as cold and cutting as a winter wind.

 

The guardsman swallowed hard and thought fast. The North was home to many minority tribes, each ruling its own territory with a degree of autonomy. Most of the time they kept to their own lands and lived independently, but when Duke Yesiol, their overlord, called, the lesser lords dropped everything and rushed to the ducal castle. And they served the duke with their lives. He could never tell if they were truly independent or fanatically loyal. They were a baffling lot.

 

“Please forgive the discourtesy. But… in difficult circumstances like these… there’s no helping it, is there? I’m only carrying out my duty.” The guardsman’s resolve not to back down was firm.

 

The man’s lips curved in a cold smile. “Fine. We’ll show you. However.”

 

“However…?”

 

“Once you’ve seen her, I’ll have to pluck out your eyes.”

 

“…What?” The guardsman’s hair stood on end at the calm tone, as if the man were merely stating today’s lunch menu.

 

The man, who had just uttered something so cruel as if it were nothing at all, added gently. “Otherwise, my one and only sister would have to marry you.”

 

“That… That means…”

 

“We’ve agreed to respect your official duty. In return, I expect you to respect our customs. Ophelia.”

 

“…Yes.” She nodded and slowly raised a hand to her hood.

 

Just before she bared her face, the guardsman, heart pounding in his ears, screwed his eyes tightly shut. “Wait!”

 

“Why?”

 

“J-Just go on your way. I was out of line.”

 

“…”

 

“I mean it! If this should in any way harm your sister’s honor, I swear I won’t breathe a word of it to anyone.” He had nearly lost his eyes while chasing sudden riches. Cold sweat trickled down his spine under the killing intent pricking the back of his neck. Bowing his head low, the guardsman repeated himself. “I truly am sorry. I was very rude.” His knees were shaking so badly he could hardly stand. He was counting the seconds until the carriage finally moved on, when a voice, softer than before, slipped into his ears.

 

“…You may raise your head.”

 

He lifted his head slowly. The man flicked a gold coin toward him. The guardsman fumbled and caught it by sheer reflex, staring in dazed disbelief at his unexpected good luck.

 

“T-This… Why…?”

 

“Putting your duty first isn’t a bad thing. And since you’ve promised to keep our affairs to yourself, it seems you’re not entirely lacking in wits.”

 

“Brother.”

 

Whether it was praise or mockery, the guardsman couldn’t tell; he only blinked.

 

The sister cut in to rein her brother in. “Let’s be on our way. We’ll be later than originally planned.”

 

Instead of answering, the man simply nodded, picked up the cane that had been resting against the carriage door, and rapped twice on the roof. Understanding the signal to depart, the coachman snapped the reins and set off once more toward their destination.

 

Watching the carriage roll away in a cloud of dust, the guardsman finally shook off his lingering unease and tucked the gold coin carefully into his coat. He had almost lost his eyes chasing a great treasure, but after reluctantly giving up that windfall, he ended up gaining a gold coin instead. They said that when something good happened, something bad followed, and when something bad happened, something good came of it. Either way, it was an unexpected stroke of luck.

 

* * *

Once they passed the last checkpoint, Shailoh tore off the stifling robe. She let out a sigh of relief and cracked the carriage window to drink in the fresh air.

 

“I honestly thought I was going to die from nerves the whole way here.”

 

“You’re not feeling sick, are you?”

 

“No.”

 

Answering his gentle concern with a smile, Shailoh quietly swept her gaze over the barren plain. Ever since they’d crossed into northern territory, signs of habitation had steadily vanished, and the number of guardsmen they passed had dwindled.

 

“Still, that really scared me now.”

 

“Still, that really scared me just now. I didn’t think my wanted sketches would’ve spread this far, all the way near the North.”

 

“Caleb must have really blown his top.”

 

“Well, I did stab him in the back and run. And on top of that…”

 

Shailoh thought of the last letter she’d left him. A letter written line after line, crammed full of curses, all of it fueled by malice. She’d thought the betrayal, rage, and hatred she’d felt for him had burned themselves out and crumbled to ash, but while she was writing that letter, they flared up again so fiercely she could barely control herself. If it was going to be the last time, she’d wanted him to feel at least a fraction of the anger, betrayal, despair, and hatred she had.

 

“Anyway, what kind of place is the North? Do people there know about me?” Forcing the face flickering at the edge of her thoughts away, Shailoh quietly changed the subject.

 

Declen, who had been watching her with an unreadable look, followed her gaze out the window. “To answer your second question first, only a very small number of people know about you. My lands are extremely closed off to outsiders. It’s already been fifty years since the king last came through on a tour.”

 

“Ah…” Letting out a deflated little laugh, Shailoh nodded. “I see. That’s a relief. It means I won’t have trouble getting by.” She’d known the region was closed, but hearing it confirmed let a wave of relief wash through her. Her face had been shown so much in the capital and all over the kingdom that she’d been anxious someone here might recognize her.

 

“Even if someone did recognize you, no one would dare run their mouth about you. You’ll be living proudly as my sister and as a duke’s daughter.”

 

“Right…”

 

Shailoh flinched at the word ‘duke’s daughter’ and bit down on her lip. In truth, she still felt completely at sea. She’d spent her childhood begging on the streets, then had been taken in by the Diponz ducal family and lived as a duke’s daughter for a while. But when the real duke’s daughter returned, she’d become the fake and be cast aside in the most brutal way. And now, she was being told that she’d actually been the real duke’s daughter all along. At this point, fate’s little prank had gone way too far. Some mischievous god had clearly twisted her life into knots more than once.

 

“What kind of place is the north?” She repeated her first question.

 

Declen fell silent for a moment, as if thinking, then answered in a low voice. “It’s hard to explain. You’ve probably read things or heard people talk, but experiencing it yourself will be the most accurate.”

 

“Experience it… myself…”

 

“Was that unhelpful?”

 

“No. If anything, it just makes me look forward to it more.” Grinning, Shailoh turned her eyes back to the window. The dry air and fresh wind brushed past, tickling the nape of her neck.

 

Her roots. The place where her birth father had lived, and where her half-brother now lived. Her heart pounded with a mix of nameless anxiety and anticipation.