The Reason Why the Forsaken Fake Returned Chapter 59

“No. You can’t.”

 

“What?”

 

“If you could’ve, you would’ve done it already. That’s just the kind of person you are. But you couldn’t. Because you don’t have anything solid that proves I’m that ‘Shailoh Diponz.’”

 

“You must think no one remembers what you looked like back when you were a noble lady.”

 

“No. Of course there are people who do.”

 

For the first time, a crack appeared on Evan’s face. Shailoh didn’t miss the opening and shot back.

 

“Sure, there are people who know my face. But even they just wrote me off as someone who looks like her, not the same person. Part of that’s thanks to my acting, but mostly it’s their own arrogance. They already decided that’s how it is. They’ve already let me into their circle and started building ties with me, and now you’re going to point at me and call me a murderer? From their point of view, that’s an insult. You’d be calling them all blind idiots and fools.”

 

“Don’t act so high and mighty. One decisive piece of evidence and you’re—”

 

“So that’s why you went to see Olivier, the one who seemed closest to me. You must’ve had doubts about Claire’s case. So you went to Olivier to confirm who I really am, and planned to drag me down based on her testimony.”

 

Evan chose silence instead of an answer, which told her she’d hit the mark.

 

Shailoh pressed him without mercy. “But it didn’t go well. So you killed her, to shut her up and send me a warning. Am I right?”

 

Evan let out a snort, his lips twisting. “I thought you were just a singer, but you’re pretty good at playing investigator too. At the end of the day, you’re still just some orphan brat who was rotting away on the floor of an orphanage. I can crush you anytime I want, like stepping on an ant.”

 

“But not here. Not right now. Someone must’ve seen you follow me here.”

 

“You arrogant bitch!” This time, it was Evan who lost control of his temper. Dropping the pretense of composure, he shot to his feet and glared down at Shailoh. “Do you really think I can’t kill you, even if not this second? No matter how you struggle, you’re nothing but some lowly singer.”

 

The hands that had wrapped around her throat with clear intent to kill three years ago flashed through Shailoh’s mind. She barely managed to rein in the instinct to back away and warned him instead. “Just try laying even a finger on me.”

 

“And if I do?”

 

“You don’t seriously think I’ve spent the last three years doing nothing but singing, do you?”

 

Her resolute smile made Evan hesitate, a frown creasing his brow.

 

“As expected… Back then, the Grid Merchant guild leader gave you something, didn’t he?’

 

Give me something? Shailoh’s mind raced. He hadn’t given her anything. But…

 

“Si… Sigurd Plateau… west, white… Cough…! …rock.”

 

Right, those were the Grid Merchant Guild leader’s last words. The fog in her head cleared, and all at once, as if she’d had a sudden revelation, she heard the tolling of a clock. Maybe the last clue Olivier hadn’t been able to solve was there.

 

“Tell me.”

 

Sensing something was off, Evan approached her like he might pounce any second. She tried to back away from him and ended up collapsing onto the bench.

 

“What did you receive?”

 

“Back off! If you touch me, I won’t let it slide.”

 

“Oh, Shailoh.” Seeing her flustered again, Evan let out a derisive laugh, his face full of contempt, and stroked her cheek.

 

“Knock it off!” The touch made her skin crawl like insects were swarming over it, and Shailoh slapped his hand away. Back when she’d been a noble lady and he’d been her older brother, he’d often touched her like this, but unlike those warm days in the past, now it only disgusted her.

 

“I’m not planning to kill you right this second. But.” Evan caged her in with both arms and bent close, as if to share a secret. “I can make sure you’re so scandal-ridden you won’t be able to show your face in society as soon as tomorrow.”

 

“What!”

 

“Didn’t you just hear something?”

 

Of all times, a voice came from nearby. The moment his repulsive hand slid around her waist, Shailoh sensed danger and thrashed, desperate to break free. Footsteps drew closer, and the arm clamped around her waist tightened.

 

Caleb! Shailoh squeezed her eyes shut, calling her lover’s name in her head. Just then, a low voice slipped between them.

 

“What do you think you’re doing, Lord Diponz?”

 

Evan froze, then brushed off his hands and straightened. “I’ve shown you something shameful. She started seducing me so shamelessly that I just lost control for a moment.” Grinning, Evan looked down at her, making excuses with a triumphant face. “Just pretend you didn’t see. Hardly an uncommon scene, is it?”

 

But the intruder’s expression didn’t change. Ignoring Evan, the man walked past him and spoke to Shailoh. “Is that true?”

 

Shailoh slowly lifted the head she’d bowed. The fragile hope she’d barely dared to feel vanished in an instant. It wasn’t Caleb. “No. He forced himself on me.”

 

“You’re not actually going to take the word of some two-bit singer, are you?” Evan let out a disbelieving laugh and shook his head. “I don’t know who you are, but you’ve no idea how sly and calculating women like her are, do you?” His easy confidence twisted in the very next moment.

 

“Forcing yourself on a defenseless woman and then slandering her. How disappointing, Lord Diponz.”

 

“His words aren’t true, Your Grace!”

 

“Your… Grace?” At Shailoh’s address, Evan finally realized who Declen was, and his body went rigid.

 

Declen took off his jacket and draped it over Shailoh’s shoulders, then helped her to her feet.

 

“I—!”

 

“If you come near her in front of me one more time, I won’t let it slide.” Declen’s icy voice quietly warned Evan, whose hand had been half-raised toward her.

 

“You’re being deceived by that wench. You’ve no idea how many masks she’s wearing.”

 

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Declen answered coldly and led Shailoh past Evan. In that brief moment as they brushed by, he murmured softly in her ear. “We met again.”

 

* * *

Shailoh finally felt like she could breathe again only once she escaped the maze and stepped out into a wide, open space crowded with people. Before anyone could stare at her with too much curiosity, she quickly slipped off the jacket resting on her shoulders and handed it back.

 

“Thank you for helping me just now, Your Grace.”

 

“It seems you and Lord Diponz had some sort of business.”

 

She’d meant to offer a quick thanks and get away, but that unexpected remark stopped her in her tracks. “Not at all. I was feeling a bit faint and sat down to rest for a moment, and the lord came over and made improper advances, that’s all.”

 

“For that to be all, the look in both your eyes was anything but ordinary.”

 

“…I’m truly grateful you stepped in and helped me, but I don’t have anything more to say.” Under that persistent, probing gaze, Shailoh declined as tactfully as she could. “Then, if you’ll excuse me.”

 

“You didn’t tell His Highness that you met me.”

 

Still half-bent in a polite bow, Shailoh froze. Should she ask what he meant? But this man was the duke who ruled the entire North. He had surely already looked into her. Instead of denying it, Shailoh lifted her head with a faint smile. “I’ve heard the two of you have been close friends for a long time. It’s not something I should be involving myself in.”

 

“He might be hurt if he found out. From the fact that he knows who you really are, it doesn’t seem like you’re on ordinary terms.”

 

“That’s…” She faltered, unable to think of anything else to say.

 

Just then, a familiar face appeared, looking for her.

 

“There you are, Miss Griche! I’ve been looking all over for you.”

 

“…Countess Rodon.”

 

“Are you feeling all right? Baron Cal asked me to look after you. I’m worried I may have been too negligent.”

 

“Not at all. I feel much better. Thank you for your concern.”

 

“Then come this way. The event is really getting underway now. The auction items are starting to come up.” Smiling warmly, Countess Rodon took hold of her elbow.

 

Shailoh turned her head in reflex. But Duke Yesiol was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Miss Griche? Are you looking for someone?”

 

“Oh. No. Let’s go.”

 

It seemed he had slipped away at some point.

      

After giving the crowd a quick once-over, Shailoh followed Countess Rodon toward the center of the garden. By the time they reached the thick of the crowd, the auction atmosphere was just beginning to heat up.

 

“Now then, we’ll begin the charity auction! Half of the items have been donated by Queen Ingrid, and the other half by all of you gathered here today. If you wish to bid, please raise your fan or cane high.”

 

The auctioneer signaled with his eyes for the servants to start bringing the items up onto the stage. The waiting servants, hands in white gloves, pushed carts bearing the auction goods up the steps. When the white cloth over the first item was lifted, a small, ornate dressing table was revealed. Over a chorus of admiring murmurs, the auctioneer began to explain.