A World Where You All Are The Villains - Chapter 141

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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141.

Everyone froze at the sudden appearance of the Grand Duke.
“Belnak, the Grand Duke…?”
Vincent muttered in disbelief, as if questioning his own eyes.
Ethan also stared at the Grand Duke with a rigid expression.
Regardless, Serge simply treated both men as if they were invisible and walked past them.
“Have you been well, Butler? What is the Young Lady doing right now?”
“Y-Your Highness the Grand Duke, this place is….”
The Butler faltered in bewilderment as the man headed straight for the Entrance Hall.
“Your Highness, what brings you here?”
Ethan blocked the Grand Duke’s path like lightning.
“Hmm?”
Serge raised one eyebrow and soon let out a soft chuckle before responding.
“Didn’t you just hear? I came to pick up my partner.”
“That’s precisely why—why would your partner be at the Duke’s Residence….”
“Because she lives at the Duke’s Residence, so I came here. Really, what nonsense you speak. Are you having a difficult time with work these days, Knight Commander?”
At the scornful jab, Ethan’s jaw clenched as his vision blurred.
“…Has Edith Blake accepted Your Highness’s partnership request?”
“That’s why I’ve made the journey here myself.”
“That cannot be!”
It was then.
Vincent suddenly burst between the two men and cried out vehemently.
“Edith Blake, why would she form a partnership with Your Highness? Your Highness the Grand Duke doesn’t even have that close of a relationship with Edith Blake, do you?”
“Us? Oh, isn’t the Sub-Duke perhaps misunderstanding something? We’ve even had our share of scandals.”
“Merely idle gossip spread by loose-tongued socialites.”
Vincent added with a peculiar confidence.
“Edith Blake is not a woman who indiscriminately accepts partnership requests. So wouldn’t it be wise to consider your dignity and take your leave?”
“Well. Wouldn’t we know better by asking the person in question directly?”
Serge gestured toward the Entrance Hall with an expression suggesting he couldn’t be bothered to engage further.
At that very moment, an elegantly dressed woman emerged from beyond the door.
“What are you all… doing here?”
All eyes turned toward her at the sound of her delicate voice, tinged with bewilderment.
Hair as fine as golden silk cascaded down in lustrous waves.
Following the half-tied hairstyle, pearl beads adorned in clusters gleamed with a subtle blue luminescence, shimmering mysteriously as if radiating light itself.
In contrast, a striking crimson dress that captured the hues of the sunset commanded attention.
Like a fully bloomed rose, the woman’s figure—more radiant and beautiful than anyone present—cast a sudden hush over the courtyard of the Duke’s Mansion.
“….”
Ethan, Vincent, and even Serge stood transfixed, their eyes fixed upon her.
“Ah, Miss!”
Breaking the momentary silence, the Butler rushed toward Edith Blake as though she were his savior.
“What is it, Butler?”
“Well, that is….”
“Edith!”
Vincent snapped back to his senses and shoved the Butler aside, stepping forward.
Just as a faint crease formed between Edith Blake’s delicate brows, he pressed her urgently.
“Is that true?”
“What is?”
“That you’re becoming partners with the Grand Duke! It’s not, right? His Highness is just misunderstanding, isn’t he? Right?”
Edith Blake, who had been quietly observing his wavering golden eyes, answered plainly.
“It’s true.”
“I knew it would… What?”
“It’s true. I agreed to become partners with His Highness the Grand Duke.”
“…!”
At those words, Vincent froze as though struck by lightning.
Ethan was no different.
Only Serge, as if to say I told you so, lifted the corners of his mouth in a smirk.
After a moment of silence, Vincent shot Edith Blake a look brimming with betrayal.
“You… Why?”
“Why what?”
“I apologized to you, and we said we’d get along well!”
“We did.”
“Then why? Are you still angry? Weren’t we reconciled?”
Vincent’s voice trembled slightly at the end of his rapid-fire questions.
‘Why is she so composed?’
Edith Blake merely stared at him with an expression of utter bewilderment.
While he felt as though his insides were bursting.
Something scalding bubbled up within him, rising to the crown of his head.
Yet she seemed utterly unmoved by all of this.
As though she had willingly accepted that damned man’s partnership proposal.
The Edith Blake he knew would never do such a thing.
She despised unfamiliar situations and new changes.
Moreover.

― Let us forget the grievances of the past and begin anew, getting along well together.

Didn’t you tell me we should try to get along again?
He naturally interpreted those words to mean returning to the carefree days of old.
So he had no doubt that, as always, he would be her partner.
He even thought of it as a chance to make amends for sulking at the ball a few months ago when she’d lost her memory.
This time, he’d play the perfect partner.
After all, wasn’t this ball centered around Edith Blake?
He’d planned to show those gossiping fools—the ones spreading nonsense about how the Young Lady and Sub-Duke weren’t as close as before—just how solid their relationship truly was.
‘I’d rather she just say she’s still angry with me.’
Or that Serge Belnak had threatened her.
Or that she had some pressing reason and was sorry about today.
“I’m not angry, Vincent.”
But Edith Blake’s calm voice slowly shattered his hopes.
“And you never asked me in the first place.”
“…What?”
“His Highness requested first, so I accepted.”
As if that were all there was to it, she looked up at him with transparent eyes.
Vincent felt his breath catch at that gaze—devoid of anger, devoid of even a hint of mockery.
“…What are you saying, Edith Blake?”
He stammered the words with trembling lips.
“Without you even asking, I was always your partner. Don’t you remember how I’d come pick you up every ball?”
“No. Your partner was never me—it was always Ruellin.”
“…”
“You only came to me out of charity when Ruellin wouldn’t choose you, or when you wanted to deliberately provoke her jealousy.”
“…”
“Isn’t that right, brother?”
She turned to Ethan with a slight smile.
He, who had been confidently matching wits with Vincent just moments before, now sat silent as if he’d swallowed honey.
Sadly, unlike Vincent—who had occasionally managed to be her partner—he hadn’t stood beside her even once since coming of age.
Edith Blake’s expression turned indifferent as she received no response from Ethan.
Instead, only Vincent protested with a pitiful voice.
“So? You’re going with someone else? Even though I came all this way to pick you up?”
“Yes.”
“…Edith Blake.”
“Next time, could you let me know beforehand so something like this doesn’t happen? Then I’d be happy to consider it.”
Implying that had he asked first, she would have accepted.
Faced with such a perfectly reasonable and natural explanation, Vincent had no answer to give.
“See you at the ballroom in a bit. You too, brother.”
Edith Blake simply left him standing there in stunned silence and walked past without hesitation.
And without a moment’s doubt, she took the Grand Duke’s hand.
“Why are you coming out so late?”
“Your Highness arrived early. You did say you’d be here at the exact time, didn’t you?”
“How was I to know you’d go to such lengths with the preparations? I must say, today’s arrangement suits me quite well.”
“I’ve been curious for a while now—does Your Highness only own black clothing?”
Vincent watched the two of them bicker with the ease of old acquaintances, his eyes widening in disbelief.
Edith Blake walking toward the ominous black carriage the Grand Duke had brought seemed utterly unfamiliar to him.
It was merely a departure to the Imperial Palace.
Yet an inexplicable dread seized him—a chilling premonition that if he let her go now, he would never be able to hold her again.
So Vincent clenched his teeth and called out to her.
“…Edith Blake.”
“….”
“I’m in pain.”
Please, just look at me.
You always worried when I said this.
You always came to me.
He gasped for breath, begging pitifully for her warmth.
“I seem to have a fever, and my head is spinning. It must be… lingering aftereffects from the battle with demons in Acarna.”
“….”
“Could you… purify me? I might lose control again otherwise.”
And then, at last.
Edith Blake turned around to face him.
In that instant, a gaze as cold as the north wind swept across him.
A chill ran down his spine.
But in a heartbeat, as if it had been a mere illusion, Edith Blake closed her eyes and smiled softly.
“You’re nowhere near losing control yet. Did you catch a cold, Vincent?”
“Edith Blake…?”
“I’m sorry, but the ball is about to start, so I won’t be able to purify you now. Butler, take Vincent to my Healer.”
Her voice certainly carried concern for him.
Yet it lacked that exasperating edge from before—that ‘so what do you expect me to do about it?’ tone that used to irritate him.
“Don’t attend the ball tonight and just go home, Vincent. You look far too unwell.”
“….”
“We’ll talk after the ball.”
Strangely, her voice and expression felt cold—devoid of any warmth.
It was freezing.
Vincent shuddered at the sudden, inexplicable chill that gripped him.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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