Mad Rosetta - Chapter 67

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

Episode 67

Time of Downfall (2)

* * *

About a week had passed since the banquet.

A letter arrived from the Montague household.

“…You adapt quite quickly.”

From Fordicus Cessia, whom I had killed.

I set aside the list of informants I had received from Stilling and tore open the letter.

It was clearly written by Sing, as I could see differences here and there where he tried to mimic Cessia’s handwriting.

“…Ha.”

An emotion more unpleasant than the betrayal I still couldn’t digest surged up, and as I applied pressure, the letter crumpled at my fingertips.

Lianna had sent correspondence to Montague.

She said she was inquiring about his well-being as the parents of his fiancée, but the actual content was an invitation for Cessia to join a family dinner.

Looking at the date when the letter was received, it was roughly right after the argument between Odette and me in the dining hall last time.

‘She must be assuming that my relationship with Cessia has grown distant…’

Did I react too sensitively? I didn’t expect her to quickly send correspondence to Montague Street to confirm.

As if he thought the same, the main content of the letter was a suggestion about whether it would be good to take this opportunity to coax Odette and solidify the scandal.

The honor of someone already dead and gone… I don’t know what need there would be for such a thing, but at least for Odette, it would become a fatal scandal.

⌜I know you must be disappointed in me. But I hope you’ll still let me help you. That’s our promise, after all.⌟

After reading the sentence stating he had already accepted the dinner invitation, I glanced at the informant list I had placed on the table.

It was something I had compiled to definitively understand the relationship between Lawrence and the Epsilon mother and daughter.

But I had also prepared it thinking I might be able to find out information related to the late emperor’s murder.

“…It would be better to hear it directly from the person involved.”

Sing, you really are remarkable.

I’m still confused about whether I should even define this current situation as ‘betrayal’, yet you continue to run forward looking only ahead.

Since that point didn’t leave a single scratch on our faith toward revenge… I also decided to leave my stagnant emotions as they were and do what needed to be done.

He told me to destroy the letter, so I burned it.

The sound of rain falling could be heard continuously from outside the window, as if announcing the beginning of the rainy season.

* * *

“Welcome, Young Master. I hope the journey here wasn’t too arduous.”

“How could it be, when I’m heading to Benitra. Perhaps because we’ve had such long exchanges, it felt as comfortable as coming home.”

Since it was pouring rain, the sun wasn’t visible even at midday, making the surrounding scenery dim.

It was the day of the family dinner with Cessia.

‘I should consider it fortunate that Father is away on business.’

Father was currently abroad as part of a diplomatic mission and was scheduled to be away for several months along with Stilling.

Because of this, led by Lianna, Odette and I greeted him in front of the main manor, but as soon as I saw the man stepping down from the carriage, my breath caught and I had to take slow, deep breaths.

Displeasure. Resentment. Betrayal. Humiliation. What was clearly greater than all those mixed emotions was fear.

‘…It’s just Fordicus, after all.’

He looked exactly like Cessia himself.

It’s been 8 years since our engagement. Counting my previous life, I’ve known Cessia for 11 years.

But look at that appearance.

The gesture of brushing back his hair when it touched his eyes, his gait. The way he bowed his head when showing respect to someone who deserved it.

To the point where I wondered if he had luckily come back to life, he existed before my eyes as Fordicus Cessia in a spine-chilling way.

“How about we have some conversation while the meal is being prepared?”

“…Ah, that sounds good. But before that, would it be alright if I had some time with Rosetta, Madam?”

Even while smiling gently and asking Lianna, he glanced at me sideways.

Whether it was intentional or not.

His gaze seemed to express uncomfortable intentions, so I also avoided his eyes and didn’t respond much in kind.

Lianna, who had been watching this with meaningful eyes, soon smiled with gentle eye-smiles.

“Of course, Young Master. Then Bonita and I will go ahead, so take your time talking.”

“Yes, thank you for your consideration.”

Why do those two seem to be walking so slowly today of all days?

I stood endlessly in front of the main manor until Lianna and Odette went inside, then abruptly turned and walked away.

The place where we could talk without being disturbed by anyone was obvious.

We walked to the study in Rose Manor without saying a word, and as soon as I heard him close the door, I quickly turned around and asked.

“What should I call you?”

“…”

“Should I call you Fordicus since you’re remaining as Fordicus? Or should I use honorifics out of respect for His Late Majesty the Emperor?”

Despite my heavy sarcasm, there was no change in his expression.

It seemed like the demeanor of someone accepting criticism, but such a thing couldn’t possibly improve my mood.

The closer we were, the stronger Cessia’s body scent became, which was the reason.

His blazing red hair and yellow eyes looking down at me steadily added to the list of discomforts.

If it were up to me, I would have wanted to suggest we talk with my eyes closed entirely.

However, when I actually imagined such a scene, it made me recall Cessia lying miserably dead before me with a sword in my hand, so I had given up on that idea.

“Call me as you usually do.”

“…Is that name really correct?”

“It has now become a name that only you can call. Most who knew it are dead, and only records remain.”

“…”

“I have nothing but apologies to offer you.”

Even though his smile as he said this was just Fordicus’s shell, it reminded me of Sing’s bitter face, making it feel even more alien.

The worst. You are the worst.

“There should be much more to say besides that.”

“…”

“Why did you do it?”

“…”

“Why… why…”

Why did you betray me?

I couldn’t bring myself to voice that question and let my words trail off.

Just saying it would hurt my pride, and I was afraid of what kind of answer might come back from him.

Yet because the ambiguous question implied so much, his mouth slowly opened.

“There’s still work left to do with this body.”

“…Wasn’t killing Fordicus for revenge everything?”

“I must also let them know that Fordicus was taken from them by me.”

“…”

“And since this is something I can do well enough alone… you don’t need to worry about it.”

It didn’t make sense.

How? Why? How on earth could a marquis’s wife kill the ruler of a nation?

Perhaps because I showed my confused expression completely, he opened his mouth again.

“Rosette. I’m telling you this now, but… Fordicus’s birth mother isn’t the marchioness you know.”

Unlike the content I was hearing, his voice was extremely calm.

“…What did you just say.”

“You’ll remember when the Empress Dowager went down to the western region for 2 years.”

Even without asking, I couldn’t pretend not to understand the hidden meaning in those words.

I had heard before about the various rumors surrounding Cessia and the marchioness when he was young, though he had grown into his features.

Bright red hair and golden eyes.

Since the newborn Cessia showed no resemblance to the Marquis of Montague, vulgar rumors circulated that the marchioness had committed adultery.

However, as Cessia matured, his features came to exactly resemble the young Marquis of Montague, and his eye color was similar to the marchioness’s, so it was dismissed as mere gossip.

Most importantly, throughout my marriage life of eating scraps and being looked down upon, the sight of the marchioness caring desperately for her son was still vivid in my memory…

There was a separate birth mother?

“…Fordicus. Fordicus is the Empress Dowager’s illegitimate child…?”

“The only child she loves without reservation.”

Without a hint of agitation, his tone was calm as if simply reading from a book.

Perhaps feeling like I was the only fool here, I laughed in dismay.

“Haha…. Ahaha, completely played for a fool. Ah…. The Marquis of Montague really looked down on our household.”

“…Fordicus didn’t know this fact.”

“Hey.”

I finally glared menacingly at his attitude, as if calmly asking ‘what’s wrong with just stating facts?’

I couldn’t think of any way to relieve this filthy feeling.

“Do you feel less guilty as long as you don’t lie?”

“….”

“…Knowingly letting someone be deceived is called deception too, you bastard.”

He had only told me the truth.

But I wondered why I felt so disgusted, and this must be why.

Trust? What, you didn’t lie?

Go to hell.

I finally understood why he had acted so coldly during the meeting with the Empress Dowager.

A meeting with the mastermind behind his own murder—that was something familiar to me.

‘…Still, it would have been nice if you’d told me.’

That Cessia’s mother was actually the Empress Dowager. That you planned to steal Cessia’s body and take revenge on her.

Even knowing I wouldn’t easily accept it.

‘If you’re going to make that kind of expression now, you could have at least given me a hint….’

I hated that expression Cessia had probably never worn in his entire life.

Those eyes looking at me as if dying of guilt—it was utterly revolting that they belonged to Cessia.

And yet you who seem to have no regrets….

I really can’t stand it.

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