Dylan de Beaumon, the adopted daughter of a Duke, recalls the memories of her past-life after hitting her head. Upon realizing she was a villainess character in a novel, she decides to use her intellectual giftedness to get a good career and run awa...
Jessie adjusted Dylan's blouse before the mirror, then lowered her eyes and frowned.
"Mmm, what is it?" Dylan asked, seeing that frown again. These last few weeks, Jessie seemed to always appear before her with a frown.
"Is milady really going to wear this?" she asked, fastening a gold pin to Dylan's cravat.
Dylan eyed herself critically in the full-length bedroom mirror. Her outfit was neither excessive nor insufficient for reflecting her current position. Her elegance was captured in a simple blouse and skirt. It was attire that was simple, elegant, and appropriate for the occasion.
"There's no need for me to dress up," she said, buttoning her cuffs. "As a representative of the Beaumon household, dressing up like I'm attending a party could damage my reputation."
'I need to play the role of a devoted daughter for a little longer.'
"Well, I guess it can't be helped." Jessie sighed, lightly dabbing one last bit of makeup on Dylan's cheek. She had spent the better half of an hour applying makeup to her battered face. "This should hold off until the end of court."
"Thank you," said Dylan, admiring Jessie's makeup skills. You could only notice the bruising if you looked really closely. "What about the thing I asked you to do?" she asked.
"It was well received, milady."
After arriving home yesterday, Dylan sent Jessie to meet with Victor Olio on her behalf. She was told to hand him the envelope Dylan received from Laikin, and a letter she wrote to Caspian.
'Everything has to be perfect in order for this to work.'
"Alright," Dylan said, giving herself one last look in the mirror. "Let's go see father."
She hurried along the corridor, her heels clacking against the floor.
"Father," she said, knocking on the door to his room.
Somebody opened it. His face was instantly recognizable, and yet it had completely transformed since she last saw him. His once exhausted and pale complexion now peachy and bright. The Duke no longer looked sick.
"Dylan," he said. "Are you ready to go?"
She nodded. "We should arrive early."
Before she left, she cast one last look at his bedroom. Dylan noticed a maid sorting through his dress shirts in the corner of the room. She glanced up just as Dylan looked in, and smiled when their eyes met. It was her.
Dylan mouthed the words "good job" to her.
It was the same maid she spoke to yesterday morning. She ordered the maid to slip crushed up sleeping pills into the Duke's tea, ensuring he rest for an entire day before the court trial. It was the reason why the Duke looked so healthy.
'It looks like he hasn't been worrying about his poor son at all.'
With a grin, she followed him down the hall.
***
The courtroom of the nobility was filled with noisy spectators. Several people gathered to comfort and support the Beaumon household, while others gathered to witness its humiliation.
Everything grew ominously silent when the double doors to the courtroom swung open. They had finally showed up; it was them—the Duke and his daughter. Everybody watched them as they walked through the courtroom, whispering either praises or curses.
"Dylan," said the Duke, turning to her as they walked side by side. "There will be a lot of people here today who wish to see our downfall."
Dylan glanced around the room and noticed the hostile looks directed their way. "I know," she said. "Everything will be okay, father."
He looked at her and smiled, making it plain to anybody else who was watching that he held Dylan in high esteem, and that she was a special person to him. The crowd began to whisper again. How could the Duke look so healthy and be so happy despite his son's situation?
Dylan and the Duke took their seats at a table arranged inside the knee-high wooden railing separating the main protagonists of today's trial from the rest of the crowd.
"I'll be back," he said to her, rising from his seat. "Stay here and wait for my return."
"Yes, father."
She watched him shake hands with several nobles and greet heartily his old friends; then her eyes strayed and met Caspian's across the room. For a moment, it seemed like time had stopped. It was a feeling that she couldn't put a name to.
'What is this feeling?'
"Dylan, this is Sir Pennel," the Duke said, introducing her to a man beside him. "He's our key witness for today's trial."
She snapped back to reality, turned away from Caspian's gaze, and looked at the man's face. "Hello," she said, "it's a pleasure to meet you."
"The pleasure is all mine," he replied, lifting her hand and kissing it softly.
'Who is this man? I don't recall the Duke mentioning a key witness.'
Dylan pulled her hand back and smiled awkwardly. "Will he be helping us prove Axil's innocence, father?"
The Duke nodded. "I received some extra help from a friend. He will play an important role in today's case, so do not worry."
'What the hell? What friend?'
"His Majesty wishes for the Duchy's prosperity," the man said, smiling. "I have prepared well to free your son of his charges."
'The Emperor?'
Panic began to bubble in her stomach, making it churn. Why was the Emperor supporting her brother? Was it because she said she wouldn't support Caspian's ascension to the throne? She shook her head, dismissing the thought. If that was the case, then the Emperor had no reason to support Axil, since his decision was the same as hers.
'Emperor Katil, what are you up to?'
The sound of a gavel hitting the judge's desk signalled the beginning of court. It was also at that exact moment that Axil de Beaumon was dragged into court and forced to sit in the seat of a sinner.
'It's nice to see you again... brother.'
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