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I Have A Damn Family Again - Chapter 150
🕑 Added 2024-10-07 12:20:07 +0000 UTCChapter 150: A Significant Intersection (6)
Confused, Helly stared at the gift Carsein had brought. She had expected something different, something unique, but the moment she opened the box, her eyes widened in alarm.
‘…They’re the same shoes?’
The shoes were identical to the ones she had sent Harnie, the ill-fitting pair she had gifted with malicious intent.
She was stunned.
This gesture, in noble society, carried a specific meaning.
She glanced at Carsein, her heart pounding.
Had Harnie told him? Had he come here for revenge?
But…
“Why aren’t you trying them on?”
He didn’t seem angry, he wasn’t accusing her of anything.
He simply smiled, his expression a mask of polite curiosity.
‘Of course, he wouldn't understand. What am I even worried about?’
He was a commoner, an outsider.
How could he possibly know the significance of gifting someone with the same pair of shoes?
She had deliberately chosen those shoes, knowing they were too small, to torment Harnie.
She knew Harnie wouldn't refuse, not with her precarious position within the Theresia Marquisate…
But Carsein wasn't aware of any of this.
If she had pointed out the size discrepancy, if she had returned the shoes, she would have accused Harnie of disrespecting her.
She would have claimed it was an insult, a deliberate act of contempt.
And if she had refused to accept the gift, if she had rejected it outright… Well, that would have been a problem, but Harnie, a mere bastard, wouldn’t have dared to do such a thing.
After all, Harnie had worn those shoes, she had danced in them, without a single complaint.
Which meant there was no problem.
She had covered her tracks, ensuring there wouldn’t be any repercussions.
She had never brought those shoes back, hadn't even hinted at their true purpose.
The shoes were pristine, untouched, offering no evidence of her cruel intentions.
He was just a commoner, after all.
He wouldn’t understand the intricacies of noble customs. He simply smiled, oblivious to the deeper meaning behind her gift.
Helly, relieved, slipped the shoes onto her feet.
“They look good on you.”
“Thank you.”
She smiled, accepting his compliment, but…
‘…They’re a bit tight.’
They were snug, uncomfortably so. Her toes felt cramped, and the straps, too narrow, dug into her skin.
How could he possibly gift her with ill-fitting shoes? Didn't he know her size?
But then again…
He wasn’t a noble.
He wouldn’t understand.
‘I have to endure this. The potential rewards outweigh the discomfort.’
This was her chance to humiliate Harnie, to steal Carsein away from her.
She wouldn't ruin it because of a minor inconvenience.
She forced her feet into the shoes and took a few steps, ignoring the pain.
“They fit perfectly. Thank you.”
“Is that so? I’m glad.”
That was enough.
Time for the main event.
She held out her hand, inviting him to dance.
“Shall we go to the ballroom and have our dance?”
“Hmm? Right now?”
“Yes, the music just ended, so we can go out and dance. Unless… you have another appointment?”
“No, it’s not that, but…”
He hesitated, his brow furrowed in thought.
“We haven’t… practiced. Maybe we should…”
He was right.
Even the most experienced dance instructors emphasized the importance of synchronization between partners. It was crucial for a successful performance, a way to avoid awkward collisions and embarrassing missteps.
She, a noblewoman, understood the importance of practice.
But…
She didn’t want to waste time.
‘You humiliated those dancers, those women known for their skills, with your performance. They’re fuming!’
Practice was unnecessary.
He had danced flawlessly with Harnie, demonstrating a natural talent for movement and rhythm.
There was no need to delay the inevitable.
“Everyone’s waiting for your next performance, eager to witness your skills. And considering how effortlessly you handled that difficult routine with Harnie, I’m sure practice isn't necessary.”
“You flatter me. I’m not that skilled.”
“Not that skilled? Don’t be so modest. Be proud of your abilities. If you had a more competent partner, those few awkward moments could have been easily masked. You would have been showered with praise!”
“Hmm…”
“If you had danced with someone more talented, someone like me, you would have been a sensation! Like the one who invented that dance! I can assure you, you don’t need to practice.”
Carsein’s hesitation frustrated her.
‘You foolish commoner! You should be honored to even share the dance floor with a true noble, with me!’
He was wasting time, delaying the inevitable.
She decided to push him.
“Unless, of course, you’re doubting my abilities?”
“Not at all!”
He waved his hands, his denial emphatic.
“I’ve heard about your skills, Lady Helly. You’re considered the best dancer among all the young ladies. You’ve never made a single mistake.”
Then what was he waiting for?
“But… what if I make a mistake? What if I… trip and fall?”
He was worried about tripping? Because of her?
That was absurd!
“That won't happen.”
She could recover from any mistake, guide him, ensure a flawless performance.
“Hmm… Are you sure?”
“Just follow my lead. I’ll take care of everything.”
He hesitated for a moment longer, and then, finally, he nodded.
-Click.
“Alright. Let’s dance.”
“…”
Instead of taking her hand, he simply opened the door and walked away.
‘This fool… ’
Of course, a commoner wouldn’t understand the concept of escorting a lady.
She sighed, suppressing her irritation.
It didn’t matter.
All she had to do was humiliate Harnie and steal him away.
And then, she would discard him.
-Click, click.
Ouch!
‘…Damn it!’
Ignoring the throbbing pain in her feet, she followed him into the ballroom.
***
When he brought those shoes, the ones identical to the pair she had sent Harnie, she had been wary.
She knew the significance of such a gesture. And knowing he was Harnie's fiancé had only deepened her suspicion.
But his nonchalant attitude, his cluelessness, had disarmed her.
He had been oblivious to the message, the hidden meaning behind her gift.
The rest had been easy.
He hadn’t destroyed the shoes, he hadn’t questioned her, he hadn’t even hinted at her deception.
He had simply accepted them, and she, ignoring the pain, had forced her feet into those ill-fitting shoes, pretending to be comfortable, eager to proceed with her plan.
And then…
‘…She’s enduring the pain, just to dance with me.’
It was almost comical.
Her expressions, her micro-expressions, betrayed her true feelings.
She was smiling, but he could see her discomfort, her frustration. She had praised him, complimented his skills, desperate to get him on that dance floor.
And her words, her subtle jabs at Harnie, her criticisms of her dancing…
It was all so obvious.
Her goal was clear.
She wanted to steal Carsein Bagrand from Harnie.
And she thought that by dancing with him, by wearing those shoes, she could fuel the rumors, turn him against his fiancée.
‘Haa… they’re all the same. These petty, cruel women, always resorting to these tactics…’
It reminded him of someone, someone from his past.
It wasn't his experience, but he remembered.
The girls who had bullied her, who had torn her apart with their words and actions.
They had spread vicious rumors, accusing her of stealing her friend’s boyfriend.
This situation, in a way, was similar to what his only friend had endured.
The envy, the jealousy, the relentless attacks on her appearance, her character…
Her isolation, her helplessness, her decision to endure it all in silence…
It was all too familiar.
Perhaps that was why he was doing this.
Why he was risking everything, to help a stranger, a woman bound to him by a contract, a woman he barely knew.
“The stage is ready. Shall we?”
It was time to return to the present, to face the music.
The stage was set, and it was time for him to dance with Lady Helly, the woman who had orchestrated this entire charade.
He ascended the stage, his steps measured, his expression impassive.
The music began.
Lady Helly, a skilled dancer, guided him, her movements fluid and graceful, her cues subtle but precise.
But…
“Oops.”
“Ugh?!”
He disrupted the flow, his steps faltering, throwing her off balance.
She stumbled, her eyes widening in alarm, and all eyes turned towards them, a wave of shock rippling through the ballroom.
Lady Helly, the renowned dancer, stumbling on the dance floor? It was unthinkable.
Carsein, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear, said,
“This is strange… It worked perfectly when I danced with Lady Harnie…”
“…”
“I must be nervous. My apologies.”
His words, his subtle jab, were a blow to her pride.
He had danced flawlessly with Harnie, and yet, with her, he was making mistakes? It was a clear comparison, a public humiliation that would make her doubt her own abilities.
But the true purpose of his actions wasn’t psychological.
It was physical.
Those shoes, those ill-fitting shoes… they would be her undoing. Each misstep, each stumble, would amplify the pain, just like it had for Harnie.
He would make sure she experienced the same level of discomfort, the same agonizing pain.
“Ugh…!”
“I-I’m so sorry!”
He stepped on her feet, bumped into her, disrupted her rhythm.
“Haa…”
“I-I didn’t mean to… I apologize.”
“You…!”
“This is strange… It worked fine with Lady Harnie…”
He even compared her to Harnie, pushing her to the edge, her patience wearing thin.
Lady Helly, her face beaded with sweat, hissed,
“Carsein, follow my lead. Understood?”
She had dropped the formalities, her voice sharp, her tone impatient.
One more mistake, and she would probably slap him.
He had pushed her to her limit, hadn't he?
Helly…
“You should have known better than to target someone who’s done nothing wrong.”
“What…?”
“This is your punishment, you bitch.”
He leaned closer, his voice a low whisper, his words the final blow, shattering her composure.
“Aah!”
She stumbled, her balance gone, and crashed to the floor.
Her eyes, filled with fury, locked onto his, and then…
…her gaze shifted, landing on the shocked faces of the onlookers.
“Hmm, it seems Lady Helly’s skills have… diminished.”
“Her title, ‘The Dancer of Liquila,’ seems a bit… exaggerated, doesn’t it?”
“To think she couldn't even keep up with Carsein, a novice dancer.”
“She’s not even qualified to be a dance instructor.”
Her carefully crafted image, her reputation as a skilled dancer, was shattered.
“You… You did this… on purpose!”
She stared at him, her eyes wide with a mix of anger and disbelief.
Yes, it had all been planned.
He had sent her those ill-fitting shoes, a taste of her own medicine.
He had prolonged the dance, faking mistakes and amplifying her discomfort.
And finally, he had recreated the scene Harnie had endured, the humiliation of a public fall.
-Gifting someone with the exact same gift is a way of returning the favor, a form of retaliation.
Just like Camilla had said.
