The Reason Why the Forsaken Fake Returned Chapter 58

At her slip of the tongue, Shailoh snuck a glance at Caleb. But his response was a simple, matter-of-fact acknowledgment.

 

“In politics, there’s no one who can touch her.” Without the slightest hint of displeasure, Caleb readily agreed with her.

 

Shailoh was left momentarily dumbfounded by that, then let out a faint laugh. Come to think of it, he was never the type to badmouth someone just because they were an enemy, or to dig for nonexistent flaws just to drag them down. At least right now, he was exactly the kind of person she knew him to be.

 

“Why?” Caleb tilted his head at the way she stared up at him, then smiled along with her.

 

Shailoh shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

 

“Miss Griche?” Recognizing her, Countess Rodon was the first to approach and speak. “Even Baron Cal is here. We met again. I worried about you after that day ended the way it did. Are you feeling all right?”

 

“It’s thanks to the kind get-well card you sent. Have you been well?”

 

“Of course. Instead of just standing here, how about coming over there with me? Countess Kalen was very worried that day too.”

 

“Ah, well…”

 

At the mention of Countess Kalen, Duke Yesiol’s face naturally surfaced in her mind. She’d managed to forget for a moment. Seeing Shailoh flinch, Caleb seemed to take her expression as her gauging his mood, and answered in her stead.

 

“We’d be grateful if you would, Countess Rodon. I was just in a bit of a bind, as I needed to step away for a while.”

 

“Oh my, and what will you do if Miss Griche happens to meet a very handsome gentleman while you’re gone? A beauty like her, if left alone, is bound to be stolen away by someone before you know it.”

 

“Miss Griche isn’t an object, so that won’t happen. But with a wonderful lady like you by her side, I’ll be able to worry a little less.”

 

“You’re shameless, you know that.”

 

As Countess Rodon fluttered her fan and laughed softly, Caleb dipped his head slightly and whispered in a voice only Shailoh could hear. “Talk with some of your acquaintances for a bit.”

 

“And you?” Shailoh lowered her voice as well.

 

Caleb smiled faintly. “You know. Before the curtain goes up, I have to be backstage getting ready.”

 

The curtain? A bad feeling shot through her, and she reached for his sleeve, but it was no use.

 

“Then go say hello and come back.” Like a broad-minded husband entrusting his wife, Caleb guided her to Countess Kalen, then quickly disappeared into the crowd.

 

“He dotes on you. I suppose that rumor must be false after all.”

 

“Rumor?” Shailoh asked.

 

“There was talk that Baron Cal was often seen with Lady Octavia. Did you know?”

 

Octavia Perus. At the name she’d worked so hard to shove into the back of her mind, Shailoh barely managed to keep her expression in check. Despite her worried tone, the countess’s eyes sparkled like a cat that had just found a new toy.

 

Society was a battlefield where, if you let your guard down even a little, ridiculous rumors spread like wildfire. If you didn’t weigh every word with the tension of walking a tightrope, you’d regret it.

 

Shailoh smiled as if it were nothing and answered calmly. “Ah. I heard they happened to meet by chance and became acquainted. She’s lived only in the South until now, so she doesn’t have many acquaintances in the capital.”

 

“Oh, I see.” At that answer, which made it sound like nothing at all, the countess’s interest quickly faded. Looping her arm through Shailoh’s, she changed the subject. “Countess Kalen and Viscountess Ilia are over there. Let’s go say hello.”

 

“All right.” Nodding, Shailoh let herself be led over to the two ladies, who were chatting with other nobles.

 

Viscountess Ilia noticed them first. “Countess Rodon, Miss Griche.”

 

“What a surprise to see you here. By the way, I don’t recognize this gentleman. What were you all talking about that had you smiling so brightly?”

 

“Ah, well…” Smiling, Viscountess Ilia turned to the man she’d been speaking with just moments before. “Lord, this is Countess Rodon, with whom I’m very close.”

 

“A pleasure to meet you.”

 

“Countess, I’m Evan Diponz.”

 

“Oh my. So you’re the heir of the duke I’ve heard so much about. It’s an honor to finally meet you.” Delighted by this unexpected bit of entertainment, Countess Rodon gave him a warm smile.

 

Evan returned it. “A pleasure. And your companion is…?”

 

“…”

 

“You look familiar somehow.”

 

“Ah, right. This is… Miss Griche?” Just as she was about to introduce Shailoh, Countess Rodon caught sight of the fan slipping from Shailoh’s hand. “What’s wrong? You’re not feeling unwell, are you? Your face is so pale.”

 

“That’s…” Shailoh, who’d gone pale as if she’d seen the devil himself, avoided the countess’s gaze. And Evan Diponz’s, which was fixed squarely on her. “I have anemia. I think I need to sit down somewhere for a bit.”

 

“Then I’ll come with you—”

 

“No, it’s all right. I’ll be right back. Please, keep talking.” Shailoh refused Countess Rodon, who’d tried to follow, gave Evan a slight bow in place of a farewell, then turned and walked away from them. They were laughing and chatting so merrily, yet she felt as if all the blood had drained from her body. To run into her enemy like this, so suddenly, and in such an unexpected place.

 

“Caleb… Caleb.”

 

Like a drowning person grasping at a straw, like a starving fledgling crying for its mother, Shailoh instinctively searched for Caleb. But he was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Ha…” Half out of her mind, she wandered until she finally stumbled upon a secluded bench, hidden among the maze-like hedges of the garden. The moment she found a place to be alone, she all but collapsed onto it.

 

“…You knew you might run into him sooner or later. If what happened to Olivier proves your suspicions right.”

 

Even so, she’d never imagined they’d meet again in broad daylight, in a place with so many eyes on them. She’d thought that if they ever crossed paths again, it would be somewhere dark, with no one else around.

 

She scrubbed her face with both hands, and just then, she sensed someone nearby. Thinking it might be Countess Rodon, who’d followed out of worry and curiosity, Shailoh spoke without lowering her hands. “Countess, I really—”

 

“It’s been a while, Shailoh.”

 

The voice that cut her off was a man’s. Every hair on her body stood on end. Slowly, Shailoh lowered the hands covering her face.

 

“…Who are you?”

 

“I’ve been looking for you this whole time. Isn’t it a little late to pretend you don’t know me?”

 

Evan. Evan Diponz. The heir of the Diponz family, who always appeared in the nightmares where he strangled her. The fake family she had once believed in and followed, thinking of him as her older brother.

 

“Well….” Her mouth felt parched, her voice shook. There was no one around them. “I don’t know who this Shailoh person is. My name is Sasha Griche. Have you been following me?”

 

“This isn’t a stage. So how about you drop the act, Shailoh.” Evan let out a short laugh and sat down beside her without so much as a by-your-leave. When she tried to spring to her feet as if burned, he grabbed her wrist. “I already know your real identity is Shailoh.”

 

“…”

 

“Your friend refused to admit it to the very end, but the way you just looked at me confirmed it.”

 

“Friend… don’t tell me.”

 

“You’ve already checked my gift, haven’t you?”

 

“You!”

 

So it had been Evan Diponz who killed Olivier. Just as he’d killed the leader of the Grid Merchant Guild, he’d killed Olivier too. The shock and instinctive fear that had wrapped around her at his easy confession vanished in an instant. Her vision went red as rage and hatred surged up. Shailoh yanked her hand free with a violent jerk and glared at him, eyes blazing. She shot to her feet, teeth clenched.

 

“Murderer! I’ll kill you.”

 

“You? Kill me? How?”

 

“One way or another, I’ll make sure you die.”

 

Evan gave a derisive little snort, as if inviting her to keep talking, and lounged back against the bench, draping both arms over the backrest.

 

“Why did you kill her? Why!”

 

“Shailoh. I didn’t kill her. You did.”

 

“…What?”

 

“If you’d just stayed dead quiet like a mouse, but no, you had to come back without a shred of fear and stir everything up again.”

 

“…”

 

“What do you think will happen to you if I tell everyone you’re the murderous fake lady, Shailoh Diponz?”

 

At his mild, smiling face, Shailoh slowly uncurled her clenched fists. Facing your enemy, rage and hatred roared through you like wildfire. But showing your emotions and thoughts in front of your enemy was what an amateur did.