Chapter 182

Winter’s bloodshot eyes were fixed on my face as he demanded I answer him. No, not demanding, he was practically pleading with me.

“I don’t...” I gaped, trying to find words. It was difficult to say that it was a matter of trust at this point. He’d suspected I might try to kill Ivonne but had still been ready to cover up the crime.

Or rather, perhaps he is right since he treated me like a villain even after that incident last time. He stared at my face as if he were trying to peer directly into my soul.

I finally managed to reply, “I think... the problem lies in your morals.”

“My morals... my lady?”

“Yes, your morals.”

Winter’s navy eyes widened, and an incredulous laugh escaped his lips. “No one’s ever criticized my morals before...” he muttered hollowly.

I felt a little embarrassed. Here I was finding fault with his principles in the middle of such a grave situation. I sounded rude and absurd even to my own ears. However, his stupid little laugh helped ease the heavy mood between us a little.

I glanced up at him, a question ready. “Didn’t you say you were only curious about me?”

He’d said he only wanted to satisfy his curiosity when he’d requested that we meet often in the deal he’d proposed. I had no idea when his feelings for me had changed.

“I don’t really understand my actions either,” he muttered with an uncertain smile after a long moment of silence. “After dropping you off at the manor the last time we met... I found that I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I was filled with regret at the idea that I’d lost the many precious days we could perhaps have spent together.”

He slowly released my hand.

Biting back the urge to inform him that I was still just as suspicious of him as ever, I said rather coldly, “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept you.”

I can’t accept your feelings. I simply had no need for them anymore.

Winter accepted my words calmly. “I’m not asking you to accept me. I just wanted to tell you… Please don’t back yourself into a corner,” he begged desperately, finally revealing the real reason he’d wanted to talk. “I’d prefer that you use me. I’ll solve your problems for you.”

“What problems?”

“All of them,” he said.

I hesitated. I glanced at his affection score bar, which was still visible above his head even though hard mode was over.

I wonder what purple means? About to refuse, it was on a whim that I changed my mind.

“What if your identity is revealed by helping me?” I asked.

“I was prepared for that outcome from the moment I made that poison.”

“What if I ask you to make it look like Ivonne was the real culprit?”

“I can do that... I’ll manipulate everyone’s memories.”

I’d been testing to see how far he was willing to go and his answer took me by surprise. “What if... I ask you to kill her for me?”

This final question left him stumped for words. He turned pale despite saying he’d do anything for me only moments before. “I...” he murmured in a barely audible voice, his lips moving with intense effort. “I can commission someone at the assassins’ guild… And then turn myself in.”

I barked a short laugh at his answer—it was just so typical of him. It would have been nice if we’d been able to have this conversation before hard mode ended.

Though he was a deeply suspicious man, Winter was considerate and affectionate at heart. This was why I’d always planned to use him as a safeguard in place of Eckles. None of that mattered now, though.

“What about the children in your care, Marquis?” His pupils widened at my laughter. “What about all the descendants of mages out there who might be persecuted by the followers of the Laila?”

“I...” His face fell. Apparently, he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

Would he choose love or his calling? He carried too many burdens for me to be able to trust him. The same could be said about me. And sadly, unlike him, I was planning on casting off everything that currently weighed me down.

Winter was on the verge of tears, so I decided to stop poking fun at him. “Don’t worry, Marquis. I won’t request anything like that of you.”

“My lady...”

“I don’t know if you’ll believe me when I say this, but I’m a pacifist,” I said with a shrug. “Don’t give up on your mission on my account. I don’t want to become your excuse for failing later.”

Despite the light tone of voice I’d adopted, my words were anything but warm. Winter gritted his teeth. Pretending I didn’t notice, I continued nonchalantly, “I just want to wrap all of this up quietly so I can leave the manor.”

“But you weren’t responsible for any of this. Someone is trying to kill you. So why are you trying to take the fall for it?”

I suddenly felt exhausted by his incessant questions. I also realized I’d been standing in the back garden for too long. So I sighed and told him the truth. “You’re correct, this was all a plot.”

“But the poison wasn’t yours.”

“It was masterminded by whoever bought the poison.”

“I don’t understand—”

“I’d already bought poison using my own personal maid,” I said, tilting my head and tossing him parts to the riddle no one in the manor had been able to solve while I was unconscious. “Then who was it, I wonder, who purchased poison with the dead maid’s help?”

Winter gasped, hearing the loaded question. “So you do know who is responsible,” he said. He quickly strode toward me. “Who was it? Who dared to—” he asked desperately but stopped when he saw the impassive expression on my face. His gaze wavered as he looked at me, as if in suddenly realizing the truth. “Was it Lady Ivonne?”

When I didn’t answer, he continued, “Please... answer me. Was it her? Was she the one behind this?”

I stared at him quietly without answering, unsure whether he would believe me, even if I did speak.

“My goodness.” Winter rubbed at his face roughly, struggling to comprehend this new reality.

I suppose it would be hard for him to accept that the angelic female protagonist would do such a thing. I could understand this.

After a long silence, he asked grimly, “Then tell me this… Why did you drink the sherry when you knew it was poisoned? Why did you ask me for the poison if you weren’t going to use it on Lady Ivonne—”

Winter suddenly stopped. Taking his hands slowly from his face, he stared at me. “You... really planned on dying?” His deep eyes glinted with an unreadable light. “What you said when you woke up was the truth... You wanted to die...” he stammered, his features contorting slowly.

Before I could even respond, he grabbed my shoulders. “Why? Why would you—?”

“You already heard what I had to say,” I said casually.

After I’d come to, I’d just said whatever came to mind instead of trying to cook up a lie.

“You don’t need a convoluted reason to drink poison.”

He must have been thinking about those words, just the same as me. I watched as despair filled his navy eyes, which were still extremely close to my own. His hands quivered as he gripped me hard, shaking me. Then they fell away.

“Ah...”

Deathly pale, he put a hand to his forehead and swayed on his feet. Strangely enough, I felt no emotion upon seeing his obvious distress.

“Then... What do I do now?” he asked. “If you drink the poison I made you, I’ll...”

“There is nothing to be done.”

“My lady.”

“If you want to help me, just keep quiet and wait until I’m safely sent from the manor,” I said quietly.

Winter seemed badly shaken by these words. “But the poison. You still have the poison I gave you,” he murmured. Then he suddenly shouted, “You could drink it at any moment!”

“That will never happen.”

“How can I be sure of that?”

“I’ve already tried it once. I can’t do it again,” I said with a frown. This was the truth. I’d been forced to attempt an escape. There was no way I’d try again after failing once. I didn’t want to die a stupid death, my role as a supporting character to the female protagonist ended.

He seemed to notice my resolve and said in a calmer tone, “What will you do with the poison?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Return it to me. That way I’ll know for sure—”

“Marquis,” I said, changing the subject. This conversation wasn’t getting us anywhere. “Do you still think Ivonne is a nice, kind-hearted girl?”

“I...” He wasn’t able to respond immediately, still seemingly conflicted. Perhaps he was gauging the truth of my words.

In any case, I had to give it to Ivonne—she’d achieved something incredible in convincing such a suspicious man of her goodness.

Is this thanks to brainwashing? I didn’t care, honestly. I was getting out of this house, and escaping this story.

While Winter was still lost in thought, I decided I wasn’t going to give him any more chances to speak. “There’s no need to answer, Marquis.”

“My lady, please give me time to reinvestigate—” he began, making more excuses.

“I have something I wish to request of you,” I interrupted.

He chewed his lip and reluctantly replied, “What is it?”

“That dead maid, Becky?”

“Ah...”

“I’d like you to collect her body and arrange a small funeral for her.”

Winter’s eyes went wide with surprise. “But why?”

“I pity her, that’s all,” I muttered bitterly, gazing at the purple flowers surrounding us. “She was used like a puppet, then died for no good reason.”

Then, just like Winter, I felt doubt about the request I’d just made. Why did I have to be nice to a maid who’d only thought of me as a villain? A wave of irritation washed over me and I frowned at him, asking mischievously, “Didn’t the kind-hearted Ivonne already ask you to do the same?”

“She...” Winter lapsed into thought.

The kind female protagonist who’d aided others despite her own destitution would no doubt have seen to it that the maid was looked after before I ever did.

“She... never mentioned anything about the dead maid.” He turned to me, wearing a deeply confused look on his face. “The maid served her, albeit for only a brief period of time. She must have been so sad to see her die, so why...”

“How would I know?” I asked in a sing-song voice. “The maid did take care of all her needs for a while. I wonder why?”

That’s for you to figure out.

Winter froze, his expression rigid. Leaving him standing there, I turned away without another thought.