The Reason Why the Forsaken Fake Returned Chapter 25

Claire had vanished entirely after the banquet. Nevertheless, Shailoh maintained her diligent attendance at social functions, ensuring her presence remained visible within the appropriate circles.

 

Caleb, meanwhile, remained confined to his chambers. While the poison had mercifully failed to claim his life, his recovery demanded considerable time, necessitating prolonged bed rest for the present.

 

Departing without him for social engagements was hardly agreeable, yet circumstances left her with little alternative. Shailoh attended those events that did not require an escort, accompanied by a newfound acquaintance.

 

“I have arrived, Baroness Boris.”

 

“Please, simply call me Olivier.”

 

“Then you can call me Sasha as well.”

 

“Shall I? Alright then.”

 

Olivier, her countenance brightening considerably, linked arms with Shailoh. Following Shailoh’s rather pointed response to those ladies who had spoken ill of her, Olivier had begun to demonstrate marked friendliness toward Shailoh. At first, it was a bit overwhelming, but Olivier’s honest and unpretentious nature soon made Shailoh comfortable, and they quickly became close. Naturally, her friendship with Olivier wasn’t entirely driven by pure intentions.

 

“Is Baron Boris not in attendance today?”

 

“No, he tends to estate business this afternoon. By the way, today’s performer is quite a famous composer, isn’t it?” Olivier, her gaze carefully averted, murmured her response before taking her seat.

 

Shailoh, settling beside her, directed her attention toward the performance, though whispered commentary from across the room proved impossible to ignore.

 

“Isn’t that Baroness Boris over there? One can scarcely imagine a former maid possessing the refinement to appreciate such an occasion.”

 

“Does she even know the difference? I’d be surprised if she could tell apart a performance by a cheap tavern musician and one by a top-class artist.”

 

“I came here to enjoy myself, but someone has already spoiled the atmosphere.”

 

Olivier, seated at her side, grew visibly pale. Just as Shailoh prepared to address these remarks, the subsequent observation rendered her motionless.

 

“By the way, isn’t Baroness Boris’s younger brother employed as a stable hand? Right, Baroness Elton?”

 

Claire. A woman rarely glimpsed at such refined gatherings had materialized. Intrigued, Shailoh turned swiftly, confirming Claire’s presence among the very group of ladies who had previously insulted Olivier so brazenly.

 

One lady, recognizing Shailoh, creased her brow with evident displeasure. “Wait, isn’t that Sasha Griche next to her?”

 

“Sasha.”

 

Fearing confrontation might arise on her account, Olivier, perspiring with anxiety, grasped Shailoh’s hand restrainingly. However, Shailoh possessed sufficient discretion to avoid creating disturbances in such formal circumstances, particularly during a performance.

 

To comfort Olivier, Shailoh patted her hand gently and bestowed upon Claire’s assembly the most gracious of smiles. The women, unprepared for such a response, blinked in bewilderment as Shailoh silently articulated the words, ‘Noisy hens.’

 

“What…!”

 

One of the women, having deciphered her silent words, reacted with startling vehemence, drawing sharp, disapproving glares from fellow concert-goers who had been lost in the performance’s gentle embrace. Shailoh, with mischievous satisfaction, flicked her tongue at the woman’s crimson, indignant face before gracefully resuming her composed posture.

 

Despite the momentary disruption, the concert proved exquisite. Shailoh found herself thoroughly enchanted by the refreshing performance—a rare gift she hadn’t savored in far too long. While Shailoh radiated contentment, Olivier remained restless, her unease following them into the carriage’s intimate confines during their homeward journey.

 

“Sasha, I’m sorry for what happened before and again today.”

 

“Huh? For what?”

 

“I cannot fathom what you did, but you confronted those women, didn’t you? You probably made unnecessary enemies before as well because of me.”

 

Shailoh found herself silently acknowledging the weight of Olivier’s words. The truth settled heavily upon her—she had indeed reflected upon how her unchecked emotions had bred needless enemies. Yet, contemplating it now with a clearer perspective, those people resembled nothing so much as migratory birds—meek before strength, yet cruel to weakness. Should she achieve success, they wouldn’t dare challenge her openly. Conversely, even if they feigned friendship, they would be the first to turn against her should misfortune find her.

 

“What’s so scary about a few gossips? They aren’t even real enemies, just annoying mosquitoes, at best.”

 

“What?”

 

“My real enemies are far more terrifying and formidable.”

 

The Diponz ducal family. Though she now bore the title of Baroness Elton, the women around Claire treated her with deference, a testament to the power and influence of the Diponz family.

 

No matter the dangers that awaited her, Shailoh had vowed to get her revenge. Still, the chilling grip she felt on her neck often came back as a nightmare. Shailoh unconsciously concealed her trembling fingers beneath her dress’s protective folds.

 

Sensing her fear like a shadow, Olivier spoke with careful hesitation. “…What do you mean by enemies?”

 

“Critics.” Shailoh brushed off the question with a smile and changed the subject. “By the way, I heard earlier that you have a younger brother, right?”

 

“Ah…”

 

At the mention of family, Olivier’s expression darkened perceptibly, like clouds gathering before a storm. Witnessing this transformation, Shailoh felt her throat constrict. Perhaps she was beginning to understand why Claire had appeared so troubled upon encountering Olivier at the banquet.

 

“Before I got married, Oliver worked as a stable hand for the Diponz family.”

 

“How intriguing. Does he resemble you? I’d like to meet him.”

 

“Well…” Olivier’s smile turned bitter, a painful thing to witness. She hesitated, wrestling with unspoken words, then shook her head with quiet resignation. “It’s difficult.”

 

“Why?”

 

Something felt profoundly wrong. Unwilling to abandon this fragile thread of possibility, Shailoh pressed gently for answers. Only after a prolonged, heavy silence did Olivier finally respond.

 

“He disappeared.”

 

“What?”

 

Shailoh’s fan tumbled from nerveless fingers, her composure shattered by the unexpected revelation.

 

“He just vanished one day. I heard he owed a lot of gambling debt to other servants, so they said he ran away in the middle of the night…” Olivier spoke haltingly, each word seeming to cost her dearly, before bending forward and burying her face in her hands. “But he wasn’t that sort of person. He was so earnest and gentle-hearted. Since childhood, he always surrendered the finest things to me…”

 

“Dear heavens… Olivier.” As Olivier’s composure crumbled into quiet sobs, Shailoh moved beside her and enveloped her shoulders with protective arms.

 

“It’s the truth… No matter how fervently I proclaim it, no one believes me. With merely a handful of testimonies, he became branded as a shameless wretch who abandoned his debts in cowardly flight…”

 

The voice that emerged was saturated with grief, sorrow, and smoldering anger. Shailoh offered silent comfort, her hand moving in gentle circles across Olivier’s back.

 

“Everyone whispers that I seduced my husband to secure my position. But that’s utterly false. My husband… he didn’t fall for my charms; he simply… pitied me. He settled all those gambling debts on my behalf and took me as his wife, though he should have wed someone of far greater station.”

 

The weeping continued for what felt like an eternity. By the time Olivier finally regained her composure, the carriage had nearly reached Shailoh’s lodging. Olivier straightened her spine as she drew steadying breaths.

 

“I’ll understand if you don’t want to be friends with someone like me anymore… Thank you, Sasha.”

 

“Olivier.”

 

“…”

 

Olivier waited for what would come next, bracing herself for rejection. Instead, she heard something entirely unexpected.

 

“I believe you.”

 

“…What?” Olivier’s head snapped up, her eyes still red and glistening.

 

Shailoh clasped her hand firmly and pressed on with unwavering conviction. “They say family members share the same heart. We haven’t known each other long, but the Olivier I know is gentle, honest, and kind. I refuse to believe that someone with your character would have a sibling capable of such shameful acts.”

 

“Sasha…”

 

“There must be a reason Oliver vanished the way he did. I want to help you discover the truth. As your friend.”

 

Shailoh’s faith in Olivier ran deep, just as her trust in Oliver remained unshaken. If they worked together, they might even uncover hidden truths related to the Diponz family.

 

In a trembling voice, Shailoh asked. “When did Oliver disappear?”

 

“Well…” Olivier paused, searching her memory carefully before speaking. “It was on the day of Baroness Elton’s twentieth birthday.”

 

At last, the fog before her eyes cleared, and the path became visible.

 

“Olivier.” Before the path could be covered in fog again, Shailoh urgently placed her hand on Olivier’s shoulder. “Shall we investigate this together in secret? We might even find Oliver.”

 

“Sasha…”

 

“Let’s try to find out what happened three years ago.”

 

Olivier studied Shailoh’s face quietly. Those sapphire-blue eyes held such clarity and openness, as if they could illuminate any darkness. Feeling as if she was being warmed by the light, Olivier felt tears rising again. She slowly nodded her head.