The Reason Why the Forsaken Fake Returned Chapter 31

“You’re already perfect, Milady. After all, you’re the daughter of the Diponz family.”

 

“No. It’s not like that…” Claire covered her face with both hands and bit her lip. “You know my past, Elza! I was taken in by that lowly group of gypsies and raised for a while. If only I’d been picked up by a priest or a nun!”

 

“Don’t worry. The duke had already eliminated those gypsies long ago. No one will know about your past.” Elza comforted Claire with practiced ease, though a sharp pang pierced her heart as she managed her expression.

 

“What did we do wrong? We never mistreated Claire… I mean, the lady, not even once! We treated her like our own daughter and sister. Even when we were starving, we made sure she didn’t go hungry!”

 

The image of the gypsy woman, who had clung to them while sobbing, flickered before her eyes. Yet, the duke had driven the gypsies to the edge of the cliff and killed them one by one without blinking an eye. The cruelty sent shivers down her spine, and fear crept up anew. Loyalty was the only sensible course with such a person.

 

Lost in thought, a trembling voice pierced Elza’s ears.

 

“Is that… true?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Then why they…” Claire, who had been biting her nails, muttered something with a serious expression. “I sent someone secretly, but there’s no news. What exactly happened?”

 

Curious, Elza gently prompted. “Milady?”

 

“It’s nothing. I need to change my clothes.” Claire quickly regained her composure and stood up.

 

* * *

“Bring rose water, gauze, and the ivory comb. Go to the places written here and pick them up. They’re all reserved and paid for, so just collect the items.”

 

“Yes! Got it.” Jenin answered cheerfully and carefully took the paper, slipping it into the inside pocket of his jacket. Just as he was about to grab her bag and set off, he turned around suddenly. “But Ines, what’s wrong with your cheek? It looks swollen.”

 

“Ah, this…” Ines, flustered, covered her cheek.

 

The cheek that Claire had slapped just moments ago was still burning and throbbing. Since she’d been struck with fingernails, nail marks were left behind. Though she had made a mistake, being slapped so suddenly made her feel more sorrowful and unjust than the pain itself.

 

Sensing something was off, Jenin approached cautiously. “Who hit you? Does it hurt a lot?”

 

“Sob…” Despite knowing that the one comforting her was just a boy, Ines couldn’t hold back her tears and began to sob uncontrollably. “This morning, while I was brushing the madam’s hair, I accidentally pulled out a few strands. That’s why I was slapped…”

 

If Elza hadn’t helped, Ines would have surely been kicked out without a letter of recommendation. She wondered if her mistake really warranted such a harsh punishment.

 

“Oh dear. The madam went too far. It would be nice if she could overlook such a small mistake.”

 

“Exactly…”

 

Jenin was a child who had been running errands and now almost exclusively traveled back and forth from the mansion. As time passed, a certain familiarity developed between them. Ines couldn’t help but voice her lament.

 

“She’s really too cruel. Both Elza and I came from the Diponz duchy, but she only treats me so harshly, never Elza…!”

 

“You followed… from the Diponz family?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Never mind. What about your cheek? It looks like it might leave a scar. Did you apply any ointment?”

 

“Well…”

 

Before Ines could respond, the bell in the servants’ lounge rang, followed by a sharp voice. Ines hurriedly wiped away her tears and stood up. Jenin, rummaging through her belongings, quickly called out to Ines, who was turning away.

 

“Ines!”

 

“Huh?”

 

“It’s an ointment I carry around because I tend to fall often. It’ll help prevent scarring.”

 

“Jenin…” Ines was taken aback by the unexpected gift and covered her mouth. “I can’t accept this. It seems precious…”

 

“It’s okay. It’s more important that your face doesn’t scar. It’s a pretty face.”

 

The tears she had barely held back threatened to spill over again. With her nose turning red, Ines gratefully accepted the ointment.

 

“Then, I’ll use it well. Thank you.”

 

“No worries. See you again.”

 

“Yes.”

 

With her heart warmed, Ines patted Jenin’s head and walked away.

 

As soon as Jenin stepped out of the Elton mansion, he clenched his fist in triumph. It had taken a month of coming and going to finally be given this chance.

 

* * *

A few days later, Shailoh was scrutinizing a man with a serious expression, whose hands were tightly bound. He was the man who had been lurking around her for the past few days and was eventually caught by her guards.

 

“Who are you? Why do you keep following me? If you’re a fan, this is going too far.”

 

“I-I am a fan, but…” The man, who looked to be around forty, blushed and stammered.

 

Shailoh studied him intently. He had an unusual aura about him. His coat was long out of fashion, and his hair, seemingly uncut for ages, was tied up haphazardly. Yet, there was something off about considering him a vagrant or just an overzealous fan. His nails were clean, suggesting he washed daily, and his speech wasn’t the kind you’d hear in back alleys. It was more akin to that of a well-educated scholar.

 

While Shailoh was lost in thought, the guard restraining the man with a displeased look offered his opinion. “Shouldn’t we hand him over to the authorities? I know these kinds of guys well.”

 

“No! I’m not one of those people!” The man widened his eyes and shook his head, then began to fidget with his bound hands as if trying to retrieve something.

 

Shailoh gestured to the guard, who was glaring at the man, suspecting some trickery. “Please release him for now. He won’t be able to escape anyway.”

 

“But—”

 

“It’s alright. We’ve already confirmed he doesn’t have any weapons.”

 

With a wary look, the guard finally untied the man’s hands. The man brightened, bowed in thanks, and rummaged through his coat. Though she knew there was no weapon, Shailoh took a step back, tense, as the man pulled out a thick bundle of papers.

 

“This is the best for Miss Griche!”

 

“What is it?”

 

Just as the man opened his mouth to speak, Doris returned from her errand.

 

“Oh. It’s you.”

 

“Miss Doris, it’s nice to see you.”

 

“You know each other?” Shailoh’s eyes widened at their brief exchange of greetings.

 

Doris, noticing her surprise, explained with a knowing look. “This is the playwright I mentioned before, the one who keeps sending manuscripts.”

 

“Ah.” Finally recalling the conversation, Shailoh stood up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you. It’s an honor to meet such a famous playwright.”

 

“Not at all. That’s all in the past now.”

 

The man they had mistakenly detained as a potential threat was none other than Wyson, a renowned playwright whose plays were immensely successful. Every script he touched was a hit, and securing even a single seat was nearly impossible, even if you paid ten times the ticket price.

 

“But about thirteen years ago, he suddenly vanished and eventually faded from memory.” Standing beside her, Doris whispered an explanation, covering her mouth with her hand. “He disappeared almost without a trace, just as he was about to release a new work, causing an uproar in the theater world. They say he poured all his assets into covering the losses from canceled shows, refunding tickets, and paying the actors.”

 

“Aah, I see.”

 

Compared to his shabby appearance, his clean demeanor and well-educated speech and manners were evident. Shailoh turned her head, having understood. Wyson was right in front of her, yet he was intently observing her for some reason.

 

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

 

“I’ll tell you if you answer my question.”

 

“What question?”

 

“Do you know anything about the singer ‘Rozena’?”

 

“Rozena?”

 

It was a name she had never heard before. When Shailoh shook her head, a flicker of disappointment crossed Wyson’s eyes.

 

“I apologize.”

 

“Who is that person?”

 

“An unknown, nameless singer. It would be strange if you knew. I thought I finally found a clue after searching for a long time…” His murmuring voice was tinged with despair.

 

Feeling somewhat sorry, Shailoh tried to comfort Wyson. “I don’t know who she is, but I’m sure you’ll find her. Those who are meant to meet will eventually meet.”

 

“Those words… I’ve heard them somewhere…”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Never mind.” Wyson hesitated, as if he had reconsidered what he was about to say, and shook his head. “The reason I was staring at Miss Griche because your vocal technique and voice resemble those of the person I’m searching for. Your appearance also seems somewhat similar.”

 

“It’s true that my vocal technique isn’t common, but it’s not entirely rare either.”

 

“Yes… And upon closer inspection, your face isn’t that similar after all. It seems it was just my wishful thinking.” Though he spoke calmly, his face was filled with longing.

 

As Shailoh was about to speak out of sympathy, Wyson quickly moved past his disappointment and presented his script.