Chapter 134 : The Beginning of the Counterattack
The moment Marquis Grant had spoken of had finally arrived.
He had ordered Nora to stir the social circles, ensuring that Aracila’s scandal would be cemented as undeniable truth the moment it broke. With the backing of the Grant family, Nora had managed to claw her way back into society and regain some influence, leaving her with no choice but to obey.
Yet, even she was genuinely shocked to learn that the other party in Aracila’s scandal was none other than Crown Prince Frederick.
If I mishandle a scandal involving His Highness, won’t I be the one who ends up ruined?
A wave of anxiety surged through her. No matter how powerful the White family might be, they were no match for the imperial family. Besides, everyone who mattered knew that Frederick and Aracila had been close since their academy days. The thought of the backlash that would come if the scandal were exposed as a lie filled her with dread.
When Nora voiced her unease to Marquis Grant, he scoffed dismissively.
“Lady Nora, are you naive or just plain foolish? Why fear the future? If you don’t follow my orders, you won’t have a future to worry about.”
“…”
“Besides, the things you’re fretting over won’t even happen. So stop with the pointless thoughts and do as you’re told.”
His high-handed attitude made Nora bite her lip. But deep inside, a small seed of doubt sprouted.
Her greatest fear was Frederick’s retaliation. Yet, if the marquis was so certain it wouldn’t happen…
Lost in thought for a moment, she blurted out, “Is His Highness aware of this?”
Nora knew that Marquis Grant was Frederick’s uncle. It seemed unlikely that Frederick would punish a blood relative, but why would the marquis orchestrate a scandal that could harm his own nephew in the first place? The one person who should be protecting Frederick and clearing obstacles from his path was now fanning the flames of a scandal. It was utterly bizarre.
The only logical conclusion was that Frederick himself was somehow involved in this scandal.
“Could it be that His Highness instructed…”
“This is not for you to concern yourself with,” Marquis Grant cut her off coldly, turning away.
Nora had no choice but to retreat in silence. Even when she tried confiding in her parents, they echoed the same sentiment. The White family had already agreed to let the Grant family use their “useless” eldest daughter as a tool.
In the end, Nora did as they wanted, spreading whispers in the social circles to cement the scandal between Aracila and Frederick as truth.
“To be honest, I always thought Lady Vandermere was neglecting her household because she was far too close to His Highness,” she said to one acquaintance.
“Really? Well, I suppose it makes sense. You were once fond of Sir Vandermere, weren’t you, Lady White? You’d notice such things more keenly.”
“Exactly. We attended the academy together for two years, and even back then, I could tell Lady Vandermere held His Highness in special regard.”
In truth, there had been rumors about Frederick and Aracila—or even Polana—during their academy days. Back then, they were dismissed as mere gossip. But now, with the scandal erupting, those old rumors were being dragged back into the light, transformed into prophetic truths.
“Now that I think about it, Lady White, you had every reason to be upset with Lady Vandermere back then. You must have known the man you loved was being toyed with.”
Nora froze at the words of condolence, forcing a strained smile as she nodded.
“Even so, my actions toward Lady Vandermere were inexcusable… But with things turning out like this, I can’t help but feel a bit bitter.”
Her final words were genuine. Nora herself had once tried to ruin Aracila by spreading rumors of her with another man. But when her own schemes backfired, exposing her misdeeds, she had been forced to confront her wrongs.
Yet, the future awaiting her repentant self was this—a bitter, hollow role. Back when she had so desperately wanted this plan to succeed, its fulfillment now brought no joy, only unease.
Would I have felt this way back when I was so fervently in love with Sir Vandermere?
No, she wouldn’t have.
She would have reveled in it, gleefully spreading lies to tarnish Aracila’s reputation, determined to drag her down to the depths. The bitterness and discomfort she felt now would have been unthinkable.
The realization made her feel ashamed of herself, humiliated by the person she had been. To think that four years of affection amounted to something so petty.
Why did I obsess over a man who didn’t return my feelings and resent the woman by his side?
It was pathetic, sordid, and her eyes stung with unshed tears. If she could, she would turn back time. If only this had been her own doing, she might have.
But…
No, it’s too late. There’s no turning back now.
The White family and the Grant family had made their expectations clear. Her role was to keep fueling the scandal, ensuring its flames never died out. Nora had already played her part multiple times.
If Aracila managed to overcome this scandal and return unscathed, Nora would be the first to fall.
Even if she couldn’t start anew, she had to protect the life she still had. Knowing it was wrong, she had no choice but to push forward.
* * *
The First Prince’s Palace, where Lucas resided, was located not far from the imperial offices. A short walk through the palace gardens led straight to the administrative buildings.
“I missed you, Sir Vandermere!”
Lucas had been waving enthusiastically from a distance as soon as he spotted Damian. As the gap between them closed, he threw his arms around him in a warm embrace.
“It’s hot, Your Highness,” Damian said dryly.
“Oh, come now, still as cold as ever! It’s autumn, not summer—how can it be that hot?”
“Yes, hot enough to kill me.”
Lucas let out a chuckle at Damian’s curt response and released him.
This was how their friendship had always been, even since their days studying abroad—Lucas playfully affectionate, Damian brusquely standoffish.
Yet, beneath it all, their bond as friends was unwavering.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Damian said solemnly. “I owe you a great debt.”
Damian bowed deeply, a gesture of gratitude for Lucas’s gracious favor. He had made a difficult request—to see the remnants of the exploded lamp stored at the imperial offices—and Lucas had readily agreed. To ensure their privacy, Lucas had reserved an upscale restaurant and sent all the office staff there under the pretense of a group dinner. As a result, the office was now deserted, save for a handful of guards Lucas had bribed to look the other way.
“Ha! A debt?” Lucas laughed heartily, clapping Damian on the shoulder. “Are you an idiot? Don’t you know friends don’t talk like that?”
He wasn’t keeping score; he had simply done a favor for a friend.
“Come on, let’s get moving,” Lucas urged. “You need to check things out before the office staff return, don’t you?”
Damian nodded and stepped into the building, followed closely by Sally and Rudy. Earlier, in the carriage, Damian had asked for their help in uncovering the truth behind the explosion. He admitted he was clueless about magic and needed their expertise. Sally and Rudy had eagerly agreed—how could they pass up the chance to clear their respected senior’s name and bring her back?
The trio descended to the basement, where the evidence storage room was located. Inside, rows of boxes held various items, each labeled meticulously. Sally and Rudy, both skilled mages, began searching for the box containing the lamp’s remains, while Damian stood by the door, keeping watch.
“Let’s see, let’s see…” Rudy muttered, scanning the shelves.
“Found it!” he exclaimed suddenly, pointing to a box labeled Evidence from the Magic Lamp Explosion Incident. Sally hurried to his side.
Their eyes gleamed with anticipation as they crouched on the floor and opened the box. Inside lay fragments of the lamp, charred black and reduced to less than half their original form. Rudy rummaged in his bag, pulling out a pair of gloves and a magnifying glass he’d brought along. With careful hands, he lifted a piece of the debris, examining it closely through the lens. Meanwhile, Sally inspected the fragment for traces of magical enchantment.
“No magic was cast on the lamp itself,” Sally concluded.
“Got it,” Rudy replied. “Let me take a closer look.”
Damian leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, silently observing the two as they worked. After a while, Rudy let out a puzzled, “Huh…?”
“What is it?” Sally asked, leaning in.
“There’s some strange powder on this.”
Rudy handed the magnifying glass and the fragment to Sally. She squinted, studying it closely, then nodded. Faint white specks clung to the surface of the blackened luminescent stone.
“You’re right,” she said. “That’s odd. There wasn’t any powder like this around when Senior was making the lamp. Our lab doesn’t even have anything like it.”
“Suspicious,” Rudy said, his voice low. “We need to figure out what this powder is.”
“Agreed.”
The two wrapped the luminescent stone in a handkerchief, tucking it into a pocket, and returned the remaining fragments to the box. They placed the box back on the shelf, dusted off their hands, and approached Damian.
“Done?” he asked.
“Yep,” Sally replied. “We’ll need to investigate the rest outside.”
“Understood.”
Damian led them cautiously out of the building. Just then, the office staff, stuffed from their unexpected feast, began trickling back. By a hair’s breadth, they didn’t notice the trio, who slipped away unnoticed.
Days later, Sally and Rudy uncovered the shocking truth about the white powder.
“It’s a substance that explodes when exposed to a certain temperature,” Sally explained. “The heat inside a magic lamp would easily meet that threshold.”
“It’s often used in crafting offensive magical tools,” Rudy added.
The problem was that no such powder had ever been used in Aracila’s lab. Sally and Rudy reported their findings to Damian, their faces grim as they discussed the implications.
“How did a powder we’ve never used end up in the lamp?” Sally wondered aloud.
“When I packed the finished lamp into the box, there was no powder on it,” Sally said firmly, recalling how she’d meticulously inspected it before placing it on the shelf.
That meant someone must have tampered with the lamp between the time it was packed and when Aracila took it home to wrap. Someone had broken into the lab and sprinkled the powder on it.
But who could have gotten past the lab’s locked door?
Sally paused, a memory sparking. “Rudy, remember when I lost the lab key during that alumni gathering?”
“Yeah, I had to take over locking up after that.”
“I thought I’d just dropped it somewhere by mistake, but… now I’m not so sure. What if someone stole it?”
At the time, she hadn’t thought much of it, but in hindsight, it felt suspicious. Sally was meticulous by nature, rarely misplacing things. Even when drunk, she always clutched her bag tightly on her way home. How could she have lost just the key?
“I’m certain now,” she said. “Someone stole it from me. And there are only two people who could’ve done it.”
“Who?” Rudy asked.
“Sherman and Billy. They were the only ones who saw me put the key in my bag after locking up that night.”
To steal the key from Sally’s bag, they would’ve had to know she had it. Rudy’s eyes narrowed as he reached a conclusion.
“Then it’s Billy,” he said with certainty.
Sherman’s lab had always been friendly toward Aracila, but Billy and his senior, Travis, were a different story. Travis, in particular, was Aracila’s fiercest rival, someone who desperately wanted her to fail.
“That bastard Billy!” Sally spat. “He and Travis must’ve planned it together and stolen the key!”
“They couldn’t beat her fair and square, so they resorted to this cowardly trick,” Rudy growled. “Despicable.”
Sally and Rudy vented their anger, cursing Travis and his crew. Damian, who had been listening silently, interjected with a question.
“Who’s this Travis? And Billy?”
The two launched into a heated explanation, half of it laced with insults. For the first time, Damian learned of Aracila’s rival. His brow furrowed.
“Sounds like this guy’s the likely culprit,” he said.
“Definitely!” Sally agreed. “But we’ve only got suspicions, no hard evidence. What do we do?”
Damian’s response was cool and measured. “We make the evidence. Bring Billy to me.”
* * *
With Aracila’s absence, Travis had emerged as a leading candidate for the next master of the Magic Tower. As his senior rose in prominence, Billy’s confidence grew, but a nagging unease lingered in his heart. He couldn’t shake the guilt of stealing the lab key.
He didn’t know exactly what Travis had done with it, but he could guess it had played a significant role in Aracila’s downfall. As a human being, he felt the weight of his actions, but he lacked the courage to confess. Doing so would only drag him down too.
Instead, he kept his head down, avoiding confrontations with Sally and Rudy, speaking less, and acting humbler. Deep down, he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything he’d built was a sandcastle, ready to crumble when the waves came.
“Hey, Billy!”
As he trudged out of the Magic Tower, someone called his name. Turning, he saw Sherman approaching, waving cheerfully.
“Heading home?” Sherman asked.
“Yeah.”
“Man, why so glum? How about a drink tonight?”
“Nah, I’m tired.”
“Come on, don’t be like that. It’s on me—let’s go!”
Sherman grabbed Billy’s arm, pulling him along despite his protests. Though reluctant, Billy secretly welcomed the chance to shake off his gloom and followed.
When they arrived at the alley tavern where their peers often gathered, something felt off.
It’s awfully quiet tonight, Billy thought.
Usually, the place buzzed with noise, voices spilling out onto the street. But now, it was eerily silent—not just inside, but in the surrounding area too.
Feeling a prickle of unease, Billy tilted his head and stepped inside. His eyes widened in shock. The tavern was empty.
No—almost empty. Every table was deserted except for one.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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