To My First Love, With Regret (Libenia) Chapter 4

“He works as a nude model for the art college.”

Unable to believe such a pathological liar, Evelyn quickly scanned the faces of the Kingsbridge students.

One blinked like he was hearing it for the first time. Two others either struggled to hold back laughter or awkwardly avoided her gaze.

That only made things more confusing.

“Nonsense,” Evelyn said coldly. “I’m the one paying for Ethan’s living expenses. There’s no way he’s so desperate that he’d need to sell his body too.”

“We truly admire your generosity, Duke.”

“Harry has told us about it before. Every time I hear it, I’m reminded that I should learn from your boundless kindness.”

Like ants swarming crumbs, the young men greedily latched onto every opportunity to flatter the duke.

“Or maybe he gambled all our money away,” Harry drawled. “Couldn’t overcome the rotten blood running through his veins. Right, Hadi?”

He suddenly called out to the servant standing beyond the balcony.

For a moment, Evelyn hoped the conversation would finally shift elsewhere.

It didn’t.

“You grew up on the same street as Jack Fairchild, didn’t you?” Harry asked lazily. “Tell us what that filthy criminal was like back then.”

The servant stiffened immediately, clearly unsure how to respond.

Jack Fairchild.

Whenever people spoke of famous figures born in Cliffhaven, his name always surfaced alongside the Duke of Kentrell’s.

They said there hadn’t been a single peaceful day during his childhood. As he grew older, his mischief gradually crossed the line into outright crime.

For a while, after falling in love, marrying, and becoming a father, he seemed to settle down and live honestly.

But in the end, unable to overcome the wickedness in his nature, he abandoned his young children and left Cliffhaven behind.

After that, the troublemaker of Cliffhaven became the king of Mercia’s underworld.

Smuggling. Illegal gambling. Contract killings.

He made fortunes through every filthy crime imaginable. Though he’d been imprisoned several times, each sentence only made him more cunning. Now he stood above the law as the head of a criminal syndicate.

Hadi likely had nothing to do with him anymore, but growing up in the same small town meant he undoubtedly knew stories from Jack’s past.

Unfortunately for Harry, the servant wasn’t foolish enough to happily gossip about a criminal’s childhood.

When Hadi remained silent, Harry pressed harder.

“I’m simply giving my guests the chance to hear testimony from an eyewitness. Right now you’re ruining my gathering and embarrassing your master.”

“Hadi, you may leave.”

As always, it was Evelyn who stepped in to rescue the servants from humiliation.

She expected Harry to explode with his usual speech.

When Father dies, I’ll inherit this estate—not some girl who’ll be kicked out penniless.

But this time, she was wrong.

“Fine. Doesn’t matter,” Harry said with a shrug. “We can always ask Rebecca Fairchild instead.”

Asking a daughter about the father she considered dead.

Did university teach men how to become devils?

“What?” Harry laughed. “Think of it as criminology research. ‘How do the children of criminals perceive their father?’ Aren’t you all curious?”

“Children of criminals.”

Evelyn’s gaze pierced straight through Harry’s smirk.

“They are Esther’s children.”

Esther—the mother of the Fairchild siblings—had been the wet nurse who raised both Evelyn and Harry. The woman who gave them affection when their own mother lost her sanity after childbirth.

Harry himself had once treated Esther like a mother.

How could he say something so disgustingly ungrateful?

“Harry, you drank the same milk Becky and Ethan did,” Evelyn said sharply. “We’re practically siblings.”

Harry’s face twisted with revulsion, as though she’d compared him to some animal rather than another human being.

“Haha. If you put it that way, I suppose I’m also siblings with the calf being served for dinner tonight.”

The table burst into laughter at the duke’s “witty” joke as he calmly poured milk into his tea.

Evelyn had reached her limit.

She rose from her seat, offering them the sweetest smile she could manage.

“Thank you, everyone. Thanks to you, I’ve completely lost interest in attending university. I have no desire to become as vulgar as all of you.”

“I cannot allow you into society until you learn how to behave like a proper princess before others.”

After criticizing Evelyn’s manners in front of the noble heirs, the duke revoked his permission for her Tripiti trip.

So he never intended to let me go in the first place.

He’d probably lied only so his guests wouldn’t think his daughter was openly planning to run away from home.

And now, to avoid looking like a man who broke his own word, he was simply using her behavior as an excuse.

It wasn’t the first time he’d done this.

“I’m so sick of this house.”

“The only way to escape is marriage, my lady.”

Even while walking along the uneven dirt road, Becky held the parasol above Evelyn so steadily it barely trembled. It was as though she’d sworn an oath to protect her mistress’s pale skin from even a single ray of sunlight.

Naturally, that too was part of the duke’s efforts to increase her “value” on the marriage market.

“Becky, moving from one prison to another isn’t escape.”

“But if you marry someone who treasures you dearly, then it could become one.”

“And where exactly does a man like that exist?”

“There are plenty.”

Becky immediately began listing every devoted husband she knew before asking hopefully,

“Wasn’t there anyone among the baron’s friends who looked like the type to lay the whole world at his wife’s feet?”

How could anyone identify the makings of a devoted husband after a single lunch?

More importantly—

“They’re friends with Harry,” Evelyn replied flatly. “Isn’t that enough to tell you what kind of men they are?”

Trash only attracts flies.

“Ah… true, my lady.”

Since there was nobody around except Evelyn, Becky didn’t bother hiding her true thoughts.

“What a shame. I prayed so hard that a good husband would appear today and give you freedom, but God can be so cruel…”

“Even God could tell those men weren’t worth considering.”

Still, Becky seemed convinced the only obstacle to marriage was Evelyn herself.

“You’re the perfect bride, my lady. Of course you deserve the finest husband in the country—no, in the world—but…”

“Stop sugarcoating it and get to the unpleasant part.”

“I think your expectations for marriage are a little unrealistic.”

Becky had only served as Evelyn’s maid for about a year, ever since Evelyn returned from boarding school. Before that, she’d been the wet nurse’s daughter and Evelyn’s childhood companion.

That closeness allowed her to say things no ordinary maid would dare.

“So wanting freedom is unrealistic?”

“No. Wanting to marry only someone you love.”

“Why can other women marry the men they love, but I can’t?”

“My lady… you aren’t other women.”

She wasn’t talking only about status.

“What happened to all the men who tried to win your heart until now?”

“They embarrassed themselves, grew exhausted, and gave up.”

Naturally.

Evelyn had never given any of them the slightest chance.

“My lady… have you ever even been in love?”

If she had, then perhaps all those previous suitors simply hadn’t been her type.

Still, it was difficult to imagine.

There had been many excellent men Becky herself would’ve snatched up without hesitation had she been in Evelyn’s place.

But Evelyn rejected every single one.

Because her “heart didn’t flutter.”

Had Lady Evelyn’s heart ever fluttered for any man?

And if it had, would she behave differently around him? It was hard to imagine Evelyn—who was either blazing with fury or colder than ice—turning gentle and warm for someone she loved.

Evelyn answered immediately, without even needing to think.

“No.”

“In that case, my lady, you simply aren’t someone who falls in love easily. You’re the type whose feelings grow slowly over time while staying beside someone. You shouldn’t expect love at first sight.”

“So you’re saying I should marry any objectively suitable man and simply hope I fall in love later?”

“Isn’t that how most women in your world marry?”

“…True. My mother did the same.”

Unfortunately, Becky had just been handed the worst possible counterargument.

She fell silent awkwardly.

“I’m like my mother,” Evelyn said quietly. “If I marry a man my family chooses without love, I’ll go mad and die.”

“Then from now on,” Becky declared earnestly, “I’ll pray you fall in love as soon as possible.”

“Hey, lady!”

Just as they were about to leave the path and head across the fields toward the cliffside, a loud voice called out.

The idiots from earlier were driving toward them from the direction of the mansion.

“Why are they coming this way…?”

The road to town lay in the opposite direction. Coming here led only to wilderness, where the lighthouse stood as the sole trace of civilization.

Screeech….

Harry slammed the brakes hard, sending up a cloud of dust.

Evelyn knew any reaction—whether coughing or frowning—would only amuse them, so she simply glared at them with murderous intensity instead.

Then her eyes caught the long objects resting across the back seat.

Guns?