The Reason Why the Forsaken Fake Returned Chapter 55

“You’re here, Mr. Wyson.”

 

“This performance was wonderful as well, Miss Griche.”

 

“I’m glad it was to your liking.”

 

“The stage sets, the songs, the dancing, the actors, everything was great. But I don’t like the ending. The fairy who gave all her pure love ends up being rejected by the human man with amnesia and disappearing in the end…”

 

“In stories like this, love is supposed to end in tragedy. That’s what makes the feeling linger, Mr. Wyson.” Doris, who was carefully undoing Shailoh’s braided hair, chided him lightly.

 

Wyson scratched the back of his head and awkwardly changed the subject. “Anyway, Miss Griche, you seem very busy again today. I brought a new script.”

 

“If it’s yours, of course I have to read it, Mr. Wyson. I just can’t get to it right away. Leave it here, and I’ll make time to read it.”

 

“I’d really appreciate that.”

 

Wyson walked over with a bright smile and held out the script. When Doris reached out to take it for her, he shook his head.

 

“This is for Miss Griche’s eyes only. I’d rather it didn’t pass through anyone else’s hands.”

 

“Huh? But I read your last script too.” Doris protested, looking hurt.

 

But Wyson firmly refused. “That’s one thing, and this is another. In this line of work, keeping things confidential is crucial.”

 

In the end, Shailoh, still seated in her chair, turned around and took the script from Wyson herself.

 

“You really must read it alone.”

 

“Alright.”

 

It was suspicious how he kept stressing that point over and over, but Shailoh nodded for now. As she skimmed through the script, Doris, who had just finished fixing her hair, cut in.

 

“Milady, it’s almost time for you to leave. You have an appointment with Countess Rodon.”

 

“Right.” Shailoh closed the script and rose from her seat. “I’ll see you again, then, Mr. Wyson.”

 

Wyson, whom she’d expected to leave without a second thought, hesitated and didn’t move aside. The moment she opened her mouth at the strange feeling, he beat her to it.

 

“Miss Griche.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Have you ever thought about looking for your birth father?”

 

Birth father. Shailoh froze at the sudden word. It brought to mind the ‘gentleman’ he’d mentioned once. Her birth father was probably that man.

 

“Did you maybe find some kind of lead on who he is?”

 

“Ah. No. It was just a hypothetical.”

 

The hope that had flared up was snuffed out in an instant.

 

“Now’s not the time for that.”

 

“Miss Griche.”

 

“If I’d really wanted to know, I would’ve had you look into it a long time ago.” Hiding the disappointment on her face, Shailoh stepped past him and left the waiting room.

 

* * *

“I honestly didn’t think Mr. Wyson was like that, but he can be so clueless and off the mark sometimes.” The moment she climbed into the carriage, Doris stuck out her lower lip. “It’s not like he’s trying to mess with people, so why bring up Milady’s birth father out of nowhere?”

 

“Well…”

 

Doris had no idea that Shailoh and Wyson had talked about her mother. Shailoh started to make excuses for him, then let it go. The truth was, what had just happened had left her feeling unsettled.

 

“Forget it. He probably just said it without thinking. More importantly, who else goes to Countess Rodon’s salon besides me?”

 

“Countess Rodon is personally close to Viscountess Ilia and Countess Kalen. Neither family is all that powerful, but both of their husbands work in administration at the royal castle.”

 

They might not have any direct ties to the Diponz family, but it sounded like they’d know plenty about what went on inside the palace.

 

“Anything else I should know?”

 

“One unusual thing is that Countess Kalen is from the North.”

 

“Hmm.”

 

“This is just a rumor, but they say she’s a close relative of Duke Yesiol.”

 

Duke Yesiol. Shailoh had heard of him from Eric Dwibon. The dear friend who’d supposedly been inseparable from Caleb and Eric. Declen.

 

What shocked Shailoh was what came next.

 

“They say the two of them were once promised to each other as children. But she chose love instead.”

 

“They were close relatives and still talked about a betrothal?”

 

“In the North, that kind of thing isn’t all that rare, apparently. It’s a way to keep the bloodline pure. Even now, it still happens from time to time among the great noble houses.”

 

Just as the startled Shailoh was about to say something, the carriage had already arrived at their destination. The coachman soothed the whinnying horses, climbed down from his seat, and opened the door. With his help, she stepped down to find Countess Rodon already waiting to receive her.

 

“Welcome, Miss Griche!”

 

“Thank you for inviting me.”

 

“I should be the one thanking you for coming.”

 

After the two exchanged warm greetings, they soon headed inside. As they passed through the central hall and entered the salon, Shailoh saw two women who had already arrived.

 

With an excited expression, Countess Rodon gestured toward Shailoh with an open hand. “Let me introduce you. Viscountess Ilia, Countess Kalen. This is Miss Sasha Griche. Though I’m sure you two already know that.”

 

“It’s an honor to meet you.” Shailoh pinched her skirts and dipped a slight curtsey.

 

The two women rose from their seats and greeted her with smiles.

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 

“Seeing you up close like this is fascinating. I’ve only ever looked up at you from the audience seats.”

 

Like Countess Rodon, Viscountess Ilia was a woman in her forties, with a gentle, down-to-earth demeanor for a noble. By contrast, Countess Kalen looked to be around the same age as Shailoh and was a beauty with an oddly mysterious aura about her. There was something strangely familiar about her too, a feeling Shailoh couldn’t quite place.

 

Caught up in that unfamiliar sensation and staring before she realized it, Shailoh was brought back to herself when Countess Rodon spoke up in a casual tone. “Is this your first time seeing a Northerner?”

 

“Ah, that’s not true. My apologies.”

 

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you. Countess Kalen’s fair skin is like a rare pearl, isn’t it? It’s a color you hardly ever see around here.”

 

“You flatter me.” Smiling without a sound, Countess Kalen in turn fixed her gaze on Shailoh. “For some reason, seeing you, Miss Griche, makes me feel oddly glad.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“Do you happen to have any Northerners in your bloodline?”

 

“Northerners?”

 

“Yes. Don’t you think those thin lips and that jawline are a bit like mine?”

 

“What do you mean…?”

 

“Oh my. She really does!” Looking back and forth between the two, Countess Rodon turned to the viscountess for confirmation. “Don’t you think they resemble each other a little, too, Viscountess Ilia?”

 

“Seeing them face‑to‑face like this, I suppose they do.” The viscountess also nodded.

 

Shailoh froze for a moment, then smoothed things over with an easy answer. “Not that I know of, but perhaps if I look back far enough, there might be some Northern blood mixed in.”

 

As if she’d been waiting for that, Countess Rodon eagerly chimed in. “Well, no matter how far apart we are, it’s still the same kingdom. It’s possible. Why don’t we all sit down now?”

 

When Countess Rodon’s maid brought out black tea fragrant with a sweet aroma, the four women fell into casual conversation.

 

“I’m sorry about what happened with Baroness Boris. I heard you were questioned by the city guards.”

 

“It was just a light inquiry. It’s common knowledge that I was acquainted with Baroness Boris.”

 

It had been ridiculous to be questioned as a suspect, but there was no proof that the poison was hers. If this ever got out, the name of ‘Sasha Grice,’ which had only just begun to blossom, would be dragged straight through the mud.

 

“Anyway, what’s the biggest topic of conversation these days?”

 

“Well, that would be the third prince’s engagement ceremony from the other day.” As if wondering why she was even asking something so obvious, Countess Rodon glanced at Shailoh, then looked between the other two ladies as though seeking their agreement.

 

“Right now, you could say the royal castle practically belongs to the third prince and Queen Ingrid.”

 

“Now that he’s joined hands with Duke Perus, we can say the southern faction is unified, right? The east is really just rough mountains and ranges, so it doesn’t have much clout. That leaves only the west and the north.”

 

“The Diponz ducal family in the west has always supported the current queen. Even if they’re being pushed back by Duke Perus at the moment.”

 

“But who knows how long that’ll last. You saw that incident, didn’t you?”

 

“Oh, you mean the affair with Count Dwibon?” Lowering her voice, Countess Rodon dismissed the maids. “I nearly jumped out of my skin. I never imagined something like that would happen.”

 

“Exactly. He’s kept such a low profile all this time that I thought he’d practically given up the throne and fallen from power.”

 

“It’s an outright declaration of war. A proclamation that he’s come back to reclaim the crown.”

 

“They say the people under Count Dwibon are gathering one by one, don’t they? Yet Duke West, the second prince himself, is nowhere to be seen.”

 

“My husband says the royal castle feels like the calm before a storm. He thinks a bloodbath might break out before long.”

 

“If it were the first prince, that’d be one thing. But for someone who’s been living abroad all this time to suddenly come back and claim the throne…”

 

Shailoh kept her mouth shut and simply listened. It was the reaction she’d expected: shock, fear, rejection. But hearing it laid out like this made her chest throb.

 

This was what Caleb would have to face over and over again from now on. The nobles wanted stability, and to them, he was an unwelcome intruder coming to shatter it, even if all Caleb wanted was the place that was rightfully his.