This Is What Revenge Looks Like
Chapter 2

House Jaxen, which could be considered one of the most prominent of the so-called “new nobility,” had once been such a mediocre countryside noble family that it had been impossible for it to even enter the capital at one point.

If the previous duke had been alive and well, not even Jack Jaxen, as a count’s son, would have dared to speak to Grace Taylor. But now that House Jaxen had the empowering background of being the maternal family of an incumbent empress, the house had become so powerful people began to say it could make people drop dead with the flick of a finger.

Inside the best guest room of Taylor Castle was Jesse, the maid, lying on the floor amid broken bottles and glasses. Jack Jaxen squatted down beside her, grinning.

“All I asked you to do is sit down beside me for a moment. Now, is that so hard?” He had been drinking all day, making his speech difficult to understand. Even as he squatted, he was teetering left and right.

The servants from the count’s household who had been waiting on him crept away, and the son of Duke Taylor, who had been drinking with him, was carried away to his bedroom, completely out of it. Duke Taylor, his wife, Count Jaxen, and his wife also stayed away, since nothing good would come of watching a scene like this.

The powerless maids and servants of House Taylor were left to fend for themselves.

An old servant kneeled beside Jesse and begged, “My lord, I’m sorry. Please rein in your wrath and—”

His head spun away before he could even finish. Jack had slapped him. But one slap didn’t seem to satisfy him. He did it again, then shouted, “You! Servant! Do not speak to me without permission!”

“Forgive me, my lord,” the servant said, quickly hanging his head.

Despite this, Jack’s anger did not seem to subside easily. He breathed out slowly, then picked up one of the glasses scattered about the table. He emptied it over the head of the servant who was bowing to him, the golden liquid trickling onto the back of the man’s head.

Some balled their fists and watched with bulging eyes as this humiliation played out, and some turned away, unable to bring themselves to watch. Jesse, who had been lying on her stomach, tightened her fists.

Anger was billowing in her eyes when a mocking voice said from above her head, “People like you need to understand something. You are like these glasses, you hear me? All you need to do is what your master tells you. Don’t presume to speak without permission. Or even think, for that matter.” Jack grabbed Jesse by the hair and jerked her upward. “Do you understand?”

It was at that moment that the door, which had been firmly shut, suddenly flew open. Jack, who had been about to drag Jesse to the sofa, flinched and looked up at it. A woman in a faint green dress stood there. Grace breathed rapidly, immediately looking around the room.

The faces of the servants of House Taylor brightened for a moment, then fell again. A servant who had been standing at the door glared at the maid who had brought Grace. How dare you bring Lady Grace here?!

Grace, on the other hand, after a glance at the bowing servant and then one at Jesse, turned to Jack. “Lord Jack,” she said in a quiet but dignified voice.

Jack felt his drunkenness leave him in an instant. His eyes, bleary from drink, suddenly focused, inspecting every detail of her elegant features. Even though his vision swirled thanks to the drink, he knew that this woman who had come out of nowhere was a great beauty.

Jack let go of Jesse’s hair like a hypnotized man. His vision was still unsteady, but he refused to look away from Grace’s face.

Grace Taylor was a beautiful woman, but in a different way from the women of the capital who wore their long, dark hair trail downward sensuously and colored their lips red. Her rare blond hair was luscious, like it was made of real gold, and of the purest gold, at that. Her eyes were a captivating, translucent green.

“Every bit... worth the purchase,” was the first thing Jack said upon seeing Grace.

Hearing this, Jesse bit her lip until it bled, and the others stiffened as well. The only person who seemed unperturbed was Grace.

“It’s getting late. You should rest, my lord,” she said.

Jack grinned back. Even her voice was perfectly to his taste. He had secretly been quite upset with his impudent bride-to-be, who hadn’t shown up to greet him after he arrived, customs be damned. But he smiled hungrily at her as though he had never been angry with her at all.

“I think I will stop here for today if my future bride will pour me a drink,” he said.

Grace sighed briefly. Then she took a look around herself once more. After quickly making out the names of the servants who were gathered, she commended them quietly, “Everybody out. Just for a moment.”

Jack’s grin only broadened at this, and the servants and the maids went wide-eyed. They shook their heads at her.

“My lady!” they said to Grace in voices that Jesse almost couldn’t hear, but Grace did not retract her command. She simply clasped her hands together and stared at the servants and the maids.

Jack pushed his hands into his pockets and shouted to the hesitant bunch, “Well? Get a move on! The lady has spoken!”

The servants had no choice but to leave despite their anxiety.

The moment they closed the door behind them, Jack moved right up to her like a wild dog about to feed. Then he twisted her hair around a finger and whispered, “Well, who knew I would live to see the Taylors actually provide good value?”

Jack hadn’t actually been happy with this marriage. He was the empress’s nephew, and there was no woman he could not bed if he so desired. Grace Taylor had never even shown herself in the capital’s high society circles, having never left her house’s territory. He had naturally assumed her to be ugly and rustic.

But her lush blond hair was so fancy she needed no other adornment, and her fair face was as elegant as a lily. The satisfaction was such that his long-standing preferences were shattered in an instant. Jack tried to run his hand over her hair.

And he would have, too, if a calm voice had not given him pause.

“You’re the one who’s every bit worth the money.”

“What...?” he asked, head cocked, wondering if he had misheard at first.

Grace pulled her hair out from between his fingers and took a single step back. Her smooth movement was perfection itself, as though she were the embodiment of noble etiquette, and her expression would have done justice to a graceful daughter of a grand noble.

The disparity between her attitude and her words made him think he was hearing things. But Grace simply spoke again, as if mocking him. “You are the empress’s nephew, after all. I was wondering just how much of a lout you were that the count was willing to forgo a dowry, even, and call off all House Taylor’s massive debt. Well, now I know.”

Jack’s face contorted instantly. “Have you lost your mind, woman?”

Aggression reared its head without warning, as was often the case with drunkards. Jack reached for Grace’s hair, intending to grab it, but Grace was faster in moving away. His hand swiped at nothing but air, and his intoxication was such that he lost his balance and went sprawling.

Among the many wine bottles on the table, she picked the thickest and sturdiest one.

“Goddamn it!” Jack spat, but just then, a shadow loomed over his head. “...?” He narrowed his eyes, slowly raising his head, and what he saw sent an icy chill running down his spine. “W-w-what is this?”

Grace Taylor stood over him gracefully, holding a massive wine bottle in one hand.

“Don’t tell me you intend to hit me with that thing?” he demanded.

That would make absolutely no sense, he reasoned. But her cold eyes, her firmly closed lips, and the way she gripped the bottle like she would swing at any moment caused Jack’s gaze to grow very uncertain.

“I hear you don’t remember anything after a day of drinking,” Grace said.

“N-no! That’s not true! I remember everything! What the hell are you doing?” shouted the terrified Jack, desperate to argue, but Grace simply smiled at him.

His face was deathly pale. She whispered in a delicate, languid tone, “Every time you shout, it’ll be two more blows.”

She raised the bottle high in the air. He could only think that she did even this like an aristocrat.

Then she whispered quietly, “Now grit your teeth. Otherwise you’ll bite off your tongue.”

***

The servants and maids who knew nothing of what was going on inside the room were deeply agitated.

“You can’t bring Lady Grace here!”

“But... There was nobody else around...” said the maid responsible, sniffling.

“She will have to marry that man tomorrow. What will she do now? Poor Lady Grace!” someone said tearfully in the dark hall.

Then the door opened as if on cue. Those who had been anxiously pacing the passageway all turned at once to look.

Grace had walked out. She smiled at the worried faces.

“Lady Grace!”

Grace cautiously closed the door and spoke to the oldest servant among them—the same one Jack had slapped twice on the face. “Lord Jack is sleeping. Call the servants of House Jaxen to handle the mess.”

“Sleeping? That was sudden!”

“Yes. He suddenly collapsed, you see. When I checked on him, he was asleep,” Grace said.

“What...? Oh. Right, my lady!” replied the servant, uncertain.

Grace calmly walked away, and they moved aside to let her pass. The lamps on the walls gave a flickering light that cast a long shadow.

One of the maids, who had been watching her walk away with perfect posture, could not contain herself. “Lady Grace!”

Grace looked behind her.

“Are you all right, my lady?”

Many of them were looking at her with worry. It had been the concern in their eyes which had protected Grace and nurtured her ever since the day her parents had suddenly been taken from her. John and Emma, who had taken her place as the scions of the family, mistreated her, but the servants had always made sure her room was warm, patted her back lovingly, and fed her soft food that was easy to digest.

“Say ‘ah,’ Lady Grace!”

“Look at those flowers, Lady Grace!”

Everyone in the duchy were her parents, her siblings, and her family. If it hadn’t been for them, the current Grace Taylor would not exist.

She beamed back in the darkness. “Thanks for everything,” she said.

“Lady Grace...”

“It won’t be long,” Grace added quietly.

The listeners blinked, not comprehending. Grace turned away and walked into the dense, endless darkness ahead of her.

Before I am back, she finished silently.