APIBAGS Chapter 66

At least Yulma was the one who came out—so I was spared the sight of someone smashing a plate, bursting into tears, and pressing their forehead to the floor.

"Didn't the food suit you?"

Yulma glanced at my thoroughly destroyed steak and asked. Right—I was being a picky eater in front of the cook.

"I don't like it when it's still bleeding."

"Pardon?"

"What? Did you think I would?"

Why, what. There some rule that says villainesses have to eat meat oozing blood?

"No, my lady. I'll make absolutely sure to tell the head chef your preferences."

Please do. Every time meat came out it was rare, and Kanna or Jelly had to finish it for me. Now that I think about it, I should have said something ages ago about changing the cooking method. Far from pulling rank, I couldn’t cure my servile habits and just ate what I was fed without complaint.

"Why don't you come down and eat here more often, my lady?"

Are you serious? Do you have any idea how much chaos erupts every time Evangeline enters the kitchen? You don't, do you? You're only saying that because you weren't there when someone got glass shards in their hand and still dropped to their knees begging for their life. That particular maid, for the record, received treatment with holy water and was reassigned to a different area of the estate.

But she wants me to watch that every day?

"It would make the rest of you uncomfortable."

"If that's how it goes, they'll adapt eventually. How can a chef not know their employer's palate?"

"I'll consider it."

Yulma was already overflowing with professional principles as she grumbled. Though I couldn't exactly blame the chef—not knowing my palate was partly due to being a possessor. The real Evangeline was a genuine villainess, so she might have actually liked rare meat. Since I always ate with others, the plates always came back clean, so they must have assumed I was eating happily.

I gave Yulma a vague acknowledgment and sent her on her way, and the Count—who had been watching the whole exchange quietly—finally opened his mouth.

"You look the part now. As Phloxse said."

Whatever is that supposed to mean?

"Like a proper person."

Ah. So apparently Evangeline has finally taken off her beast-mask. Evangeline, just how much rebellious fury were you carrying before I got here? I'm still being plenty insolent—yet he's saying I've become decent.

A wine spill caught, a brief conversation with a maid, and this man is marveling at the transformation. I can only imagine how frightening she must have been before. This is exactly why I keep getting caught.

"At the banquet today, I ask that you conduct yourself calmly. What you're doing right now is more than sufficient."

The Count finally arrived at his actual point. A lecture about behavior at tonight's Crown Prince's birthday banquet. Honestly, this damn Count. First thing out of his mouth after all this time—behave yourself?

"Isn't it customary to ask after one's daughter first?"

With a father like that, of course Evangeline evolved into the villainess of the century. Even I—who am by nature temperate—wanted to cause a scene the moment I heard that. Running the numbers on this man: not even a family-regret arc could save him. If we're filming a family-regret arc, we'd have to redirect it to the maternal family at this point.

"True…. How long has it been?"

"Probably since my funeral, I'd imagine."

Which was, what, two months ago? You've been neglecting your kid for two months?—wait, given Evangeline's age, 'kid' isn't right. Correction: your daughter. Hey—you've been neglecting your daughter for two months? And you call yourself her father?

"Right. It has been a while."

The Count, sensing I wasn't going to let it go, conceded a fraction with an averted gaze. Ugh. Still insufferable.

"Was that all you called me here for? Going so far as to request we have dinner together?"

Never mind what Kanna and Misha suffered because I had to eat with the Count. Kanna was miserable about not getting to eat with me, and Misha declared that dinner before a banquet was an abomination and began preaching fasting.

"No. There's something more important."

The Count paused for effect, like he was building up to an announcement. Just say it, please.

"Duke Hosaquin will be attending the banquet."

Duke Hosaquin, he said. What a beautifully awkward relationship—father-in-law and son-in-law. Then again, if Amaranth eloping with him was the reason for the estrangement, I suppose good relations were never really an option.

"I want you to cultivate a relationship with the duke."

What? You're the one who caused the estrangement, and now you want me to clean up after you? Handle your own aftermath. Unbelievable. Based on my read, this old man is the type who would flee alone when the villainess gets sentenced to death, and then get caught shortly after and end up with a summary judgment of his own.

"At this point? Why?"

Starting a wholesome family drama arc now is far too late. You'd need a regression for it to work.

"His health is apparently poor. Word is he doesn't have long."

Good grief. This man's ears are so thin—he'll swallow any rumor whole. Going by rumors alone, I make dresses out of human skin. The duke is probably in perfectly fine health in reality.

"People become sentimental as they age. He's said to miss his late daughter dearly. Your face bears a strong resemblance to Amaranth—if he sees you in person, it may move him considerably."

Amaranth? Where had I heard that before?

"Amaranth was Evangeline's—that is, your mother."

The Count belatedly remembered I had amnesia and added the clarification.

Ah. So that was her name. It rang faintly familiar, like something I'd encountered somewhere before.

Now that I thought about it—looking back on those portraits I'd seen, her face did bear a resemblance to Evangeline's. Though the late Countess's impression was warmer than Evangeline's. If I had to describe it, her aura was closer to Kanna's—that warm, heroine-like quality.

"Even if the title is beyond reach, you're still entitled to an inheritance."

And there it was—the old man finally revealed his true purpose. So, in short, the inheritance would be distributed soon, and he wanted me to go and ingratiate myself to bring back money. Of course, I had no intention of inheriting anything or of giving whatever I received to the Count.

What a piece of work. Truly befitting the father of a villainess.

I was inwardly booing him when a thought suddenly struck me. Could this be a story event? Probably in the original, Evangeline had received exactly this sort of instruction too.

So Evangeline approaches the duke. The duke sees through Evangeline's ulterior motives and, rather than dismissing his own granddaughter, chooses to adopt someone else as a granddaughter to receive the inheritance. That someone is Kanna. They have the same warm impression as Amaranth, even if their faces don't quite match!

Our Kanna is perfectly wonderful, but for a romance fantasy heroine she has a somewhat thin background—and the duke adopting her as his granddaughter would fill that gap perfectly. And it would give the duke a way to take satisfying revenge on the villainess at the same time. Isn't that the most satisfying plot twist? Total cider episode.

I felt a flicker of genuine interest. The Count, sensing my hesitation, added another weight to the scale.

"If my proposal doesn't appeal to you, consider it a transaction. Is there something you want from me?"

"A transaction…."

Hmm. What should I ask for? There's nothing material I particularly want. I have the money Evangeline's mother left behind. If I'm being honest, what I want is a peaceful future where I'm not executed—but that's not something the Count can deliver. In my estimation, the Count is the type who would flee alone when the villainess is sentenced to death, only to be caught shortly after and face summary judgment.

Nothing I need—but I can't do this empty-handed—or empty-mouthed. Not that I have any intention of actually inheriting the duke's money, or of giving whatever I might receive to the Count.

"I'd hope it falls within what you're able to grant."

The Count added that condition, clearly worried I might demand something astronomical. I do have standards, you know. Though I suppose there might be some basis for assuming Evangeline did not.

Something I need…. Something I need…. Oh. Looking at the Count, I thought of exactly one thing to ask for.

The journals.

Evangeline's mother's diary—I'd been tearing out the pages where she wrote badly about the Count and including them in my letters to him, so the thing had gotten considerably thinner. Someone who kept a diary would rarely have kept only one, but no matter how I searched the townhouse, there was no sign of another. Which meant they were probably at the county estate. And who knew—another journal might contain yet another summoning circle.

'When you are present, the painting's influence becomes muddled.'

Gabriel's once-firm words surfaced suddenly. Of course—I was someone even the male lead had officially certified as having catastrophically low spirit affinity. But there could be circles that summon something other than spirits, couldn't there!

"I'd like to visit the county estate sometime."

"The territory?"

The Count's brow furrowed slightly, and he asked about timing. With the debutante and then the social season starting in earnest, a month or two out at the earliest?

"About a month out—or two months, if you need time to prepare."

"Very well. I'll send word in advance."

The Count nodded, then fell into thought and murmured to himself, "Was there a room for Evangeline at the estate?"

Huh? What does that mean. Why would there be no room for Evangeline? She doesn't have some birth-secret going on, does she? Given how much she resembles her mother, probably not. Was she mistreated, then?

"Why wouldn't there be a room for me?"

If he'd actually subjected her to abuse, I wouldn't let it stand.

"You may not remember, but Amaranth disliked going to the territory—she and Evangeline always stayed in the capital. Only I would make the journey."

Once again, the Count remembered my amnesia and offered an explanation.

Ah. So she simply didn't like the countryside. Fair enough.

Come to think of it—recalling the portraits—her face really did resemble Evangeline's. Though the late Countess had a warmer impression overall. She was closer in atmosphere to Kanna, if anything—that gentle, heroine-like quality.

"I'll see that a room is prepared for you. A month or two should be sufficient."

I was tempted to request cozy wooden tones for the décor, but since the ones who'd actually suffer were the servants rather than the Count, I held my tongue.

"Is that all you require of me?"

"Hardly. If I think of anything else, I'll send a letter."

Did he think that would be enough? I am a woman who does not know satisfaction.

"Very well. Just—don't send those dreadful curses along with it."

Ha. I absolutely will. Because I want to.

"Why not? They're heartfelt declarations of love left by my mother. I've only been sending the parts where she addresses Father directly. Mother can't visit in person, so her words are the next best thing. Or would you prefer she come in person?"

I sipped the after-dinner tea and said it lightly, and the Count shuddered as though he'd been struck by a chill. Afraid a ghost might actually show up? Ha. Serves you right.

"You speak so devotedly of Amaranth, yet you didn't even know her name."

"It's only natural I didn't know. I have amnesia, after all."