The Regret Novel Female Lead with Unbreakable Mentality Chapter 80

“You’ve got a bump on your head, son. That’s what you get for being cheeky.”

 

“B-But, did brother really flick me on the forehead? The brother who never shows any emotion?”

 

Count Teren’s protests fell on deaf ears as Duke Kalinos glanced at the watch on his wrist and stood up. “I won’t have time to watch the rest of the races.”

 

“Oh, right, son. Is work piling up again?”

 

“Yes, so I’ll take my leave.”

 

It was a clean exit.

 

Count Teren watched Duke Kalinos walk away, then turned his attention back to the racetrack. “Oh? The next race is starting!”

 

This time, they’d each placed their bets on horses number 1 and 2. Duke Kalinos, however, had bet on number 3, the slowest starter of them all. Count Teren was willing to bet his entire fortune that his brother had just picked a horse at random without even looking. He folded his arms across his chest and shook his head.

 

“My horse, number 1, is going to win.”

 

“Oh, come on. Just look at the coat on number 2. You can tell it’s a winner just by looking at it!”

 

Duke Inferna and Count Teren bickered back and forth, neither willing to give an inch. Sure enough, horses 1 and 2 were neck and neck at the front. But then…

 

“…Huh?”

 

“Wait, isn’t that number 3?”

 

It was a nail-biting moment. With just ten seconds left in the race, horse number 3 suddenly surged forward, overtaking all the others at breakneck speed.

 

“Look, look, look—!”

 

Duke Inferna clicked his tongue in amusement as he watched Count Teren clutch the back of his neck.

 

“Looks like number 3 is a closer. With a burst like that, there’s no way to beat it.”

 

Just as predicted, horse number 3 took first place. Count Teren stared blankly into the air, then asked Duke Inferna. “What’s a closer?”

 

“A horse that stays in last place at first but overtakes everyone with a final sprint at the end. Didn’t you know?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Among racehorses, the closer is the fastest on the straightaway.”

 

Listening to their conversation, Neslan chimed in with a joke. “And the races where a closer wins are always the most popular. They’re the most thrilling to watch.”

 

Count Teren, as if struck by a realization, grinned at the racetrack. “Just like my brother.”

 

“Huh? Why bring up Duke Kalinos all of a sudden?”

 

“I think he’s just entered the part of his life where he’s starting to pick up speed.”

 

Duke Inferna and Neslan exchanged shrugs at Count Teren’s cryptic remark.

 

“Well, maybe you’re right. Didn’t you do the same, Neslan? You couldn’t admit you’d fallen for Madam Yuliana and floundered around for ages.”

 

“Hey, keep it down.”

 

“I remember you begging and pleading in the end.”

 

Duke Inferna teased, and Neslan pressed a hand to his forehead. Watching them, Count Teren murmured dreamily, “If the day ever comes when my brother gets down on his knees, I swear I’ll record it and use it to tease him for the next ten years.”

 

* * *

Unlike the sudden rosy mood that had settled over Kalinos mansion, Berto mansion was like walking on thin ice.

 

“How did the investigation into Wot go?”

 

“Ah, well, Mi-Milord…”

 

Seeing his aide’s troubled expression, Marquis Berto pressed his fingers to his temple.

 

Wot is supposed to be a woman with honey-colored bobbed hair. With such a distinctive appearance, you’d think she’d be easy to find, but there was no sign of her anywhere.

 

“According to what Delek Giyet passed along, Wot rarely shows herself…”

 

“What? Why?”

 

“It took quite a bit of effort just to meet her, and apparently, her medical skills come at the cost of her own life force. The price is astronomical.”

 

His hand trembled as he hurled the glass he was holding against the wall. Watching the shards scatter with a sharp crash, he ground out a curse. “Damn it! Even if I go to her myself, she won’t see me, is that it?”

 

“Yes, it seems that way. And she moves around so much that even Delek Giyet doesn’t really know what she does for a living.”

 

Because of Giselle, both his reputation in society and his art business had gone in business, leaving him in a tight financial spot. Staring into space, eyes bloodshot, Marquis Berto bit his lips furiously.

 

His aide spoke up cautiously. “Milord, come to think of it, I heard something else from Delek Giyet. Apparently, that ‘Wot’ lost a lot of money gambling illegally.”

 

“…Gambling?”

 

“She’s often seen near the gambling dens. Maybe that’s your best chance to make contact.”

 

* * *

Meanwhile, after leaving Marquis Berto’s mansion, Shabel wandered aimlessly. These days, I don’t even know what I’m doing with my life. Her heart felt strangely hollow. Shopping at boutiques, visiting coffee houses, chatting with other ladies she used to be close with, none of it brought her any joy anymore.

 

This won’t do. I need to find out more about this Wot person. Still, as Marquis Berto’s lady, she resolved to put in more effort for his sake. That’s why she found herself wandering near the clock tower, where a certain dealer was rumored to have sold some of Wot’s goods. But no matter how long she lingered around the auction house, there was no trace of Wot. Instead, she ran into the one person she least wanted to see.

 

“Lady Shabel?”

 

“…Greetings, Duchess Kalinos.”

 

At the mention of duchess, a hint of amusement flickered across Giselle’s beautiful face. “You admit it so easily? I thought you’d treat me like the same old clueless Giselle.”

 

Shabel clenched her teeth. “Are you mocking me right now?”

 

How dare someone like Giselle? But now Giselle was a duchess, someone Shabel couldn’t touch, a figure far above her. Realizing that, her vision blurred with rage.

 

Come to think of it, this is all Giselle’s fault! The reason Marquis Berto was too humiliated to seek her out, the reason she, once the flower of society, had been disgraced, all of it had started when Giselle began to change.

 

Shabel spoke in a low, trembling voice, as if spitting out her resentment. “All of my misfortune is because of you.”

 

“Hmm, is that so?”

 

“Yes! Someone like you tormenting us, that’s just, that’s just not right!”

 

“And why not?”

 

When Giselle shrugged nonchalantly, Shabel blinked in surprise. Her words couldn’t come out naturally. A sudden doubt slammed on the brakes in her mind.

 

Wait, why isn’t it right? Up until now, Shabel had always thought, ‘Giselle shouldn’t torment me. She’s Giselle, after all. She’s always supposed to be beneath me.’ As if she had to live by that rule, no matter what. Realizing that, a fear crept in, as if the world she’d built for herself was starting to crumble.

 

Flustered, Shabel took a hesitant step back. “…I-I should go.”

 

But Giselle didn’t try to stop her from leaving.

 

“I’m giving you one last chance, Lady Shabel.”

 

“What do you mean…?”

 

“Have you ever considered that maybe your prejudice against me is blinding you?”

 

Shabel’s eyes flickered with uncertainty.

 

“Have you ever really asked yourself why you’ve treated me the way you have?”

 

“I-I… just…” Shabel kept backing away.

 

Giselle looked her straight in the eye as she tried to retreat. “No, don’t run away. Shouldn’t you pay for what you’ve done?”

 

“I-I haven’t done anything wrong…”

 

There was a time when her <A Lady’s Guide to Society> had been filled with veiled insults aimed at Giselle. No, in truth, she’d endlessly humiliated Giselle in real life too. Back then, she’d thought it was only natural for Giselle to be treated that way. But was it really? Now, Shabel couldn’t tell what was true and what was a lie anymore.

 

Giselle, as if cutting through her confusion, spoke firmly. “If you’ve done something wrong, apologize. It’s up to the victim whether to accept it or not.”

 

Shabel bit her lip hard, staring at Giselle.

 

Seeing the turmoil on her face, Giselle turned away sharply. “If you feel even the slightest bit sorry for me…”

 

“…”

 

“Then meet me at 13 Bakers Street in a week. There’s something I want to say to you, one last time.”