"I assumed you were looking for her, so I brought her. Was I mistaken?"
I had no idea how to extract myself from this situation. It seemed my only option was to pretend nothing strange had happened. Madame Toten, drenched by the rain and having rushed here at breakneck speed, was clearly out of her mind with exhaustion and confusion. I decided not to dwell on exactly *how* Jelly had delivered her to my chambers.
Madame Toten clutched her head, utterly bewildered.
"Yes... you're right. I came to see you, my lady."
Fortunately, she actually did have business with me. Deep down, hope flickered immediately—perhaps she'd come to serve as my chaperone after all.
"You should get into the carriage. You're completely soaked."
"Yes... I assumed you had already departed for the palace, so I rushed here on horseback."
So she had raced through the downpour, terrified I would reproach her for being late? It seemed the image of a spiteful, unforgiving villain had embedded itself far more deeply than I'd imagined.
Daisy, concerned about our waterlogged guest, added more wood to the fireplace. The flames crackled and leapt higher, casting warm light across the room. Almost immediately, Hena returned from the hallway with towels and handed one to Madame Toten. She accepted it, but instead of wiping away the water streaming down her face, she merely dabbed at her tears.
This made me even more anxious. It was far too easy to catch a chill in such a state.
Moreover, Madame Toten clearly didn't look prepared for a reception. Water dripped steadily from her hair, beading on her pale face, and her eyes were red and swollen—as though she had been weeping long before the rain ever touched her. For a moment, I wondered if she hadn't come to accompany me at all, but rather to inform me that she couldn't.
Perhaps her conscience had been troubling her all this time, and though belatedly, she had decided to deliver her refusal in person.
"In any case, you're rather late to make a decision."
Whether it was a refusal or an agreement, how much easier it would have been to hear from her sooner. I hadn't meant to complain, but the words escaped with an involuntary edge of mockery.
"That's right. I'm too late..."
Madame Toten's expression crumpled at my words. She looked terribly sorry, terribly guilty. *Oh no.* I had said the wrong thing. A person might simply be late—that didn't make them deserving of censure.
"I was waiting for you."
I snatched the towel from her unresisting hands and, without thinking, began carefully wiping the moisture from her hair and face. Her eyes widened at the unexpected touch, and she went utterly still.
I hadn't intended to leap into physical contact so suddenly—especially with someone who currently resembled a half-drowned mouse. But perhaps it was because I had just narrowly avoided the prospect of Bishop Marik as my chaperone. Against that grim backdrop, Madame Toten seemed like a true knight on a white horse.
Even if her horse wasn't from a fairy tale, but merely an ordinary, mud-spattered beast.
"You will become my chaperone, won't you?"
The situation had developed such that even if she refused, I would have to fall to my knees and beg. If Madame Toten agreed, I would no longer have to tremble at the mere mention of an exorcist.
"I need a person who, even after seeing my true nature, can still sincerely care for me."
"Very well. I'll do anything." Her voice cracked, raw with emotion. "Absolutely anything."
It seemed my words about her being the perfect person for this role had struck true. Madame Toten agreed without the slightest hesitation. I nearly leapt with joy. How fortunate I was that I hadn't followed the Count and remained at home! Now that Madame Toten was here, I had a compelling reason to refuse Bishop Marik's offer.
The realization that I had managed to avoid a dangerous journey with an exorcist—and a possible demon-purging climax—lifted my spirits to the heavens. A little more, and I myself would have become the protagonist of a ghost-hunting horror story. Of course, in front of Raphael, I had maintained my confidence and pretended I wasn't afraid. But in truth, unease had coiled tight in my stomach. When one considered medieval "healing" methods, fear seemed perfectly natural. It would have been far stranger to remain completely indifferent.
"My lady... did you know that I was coming?"
"No. I am not a deity, and I cannot see the future."
"Perhaps you're right..."
Honestly, I hadn't even hoped. Raphael could easily have been in her place, and he too would have deserved to share the sweetness of victory with me if the bet had turned out correctly. A shame it hadn't worked that way.
"I thought you, my lady, knew that in the end I would come to you myself."
Madame Toten's expression visibly fell. She seemed hurt that I hadn't believed in her. Though wasn't it strange to vanish without explanation and then expect complete trust?
"Ryder has been ill all these days."
Those words immediately put everything into place. If her son had truly been gravely ill and she'd had no means to contact me, then she wasn't to blame for her silence. Before me stood not a person who had fled without explanation, but a mother driven to desperation by circumstances beyond her control.
"He had such a high fever that I only remembered about you today. Though I arrived too late..." She drew a shuddering breath. "Lady Rohanson, do you remember what you told me earlier?"
"What exactly?"
What *had* I said? I only remembered praising the butler from the Marquise's house... Madame Toten, hesitantly raising her bowed head, met my eyes directly.
"You told me that you could be relied upon."
"I did?"
Had I said that?
"You were absolutely right. You *can* be relied upon."
Madame Toten spoke with complete conviction. Her burning gaze held no trace of deception.
I suppose I must have. I must have said something along those lines to console her. I had probably uttered all manner of things back then, trying to make a favorable impression.
_This is precisely why people should exercise moderation, even in empty pleasantries!_
"If your words still hold true, I beg you." Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "Please help me."
Madame Toten leaned toward me, and the distance between our faces shrank to something alarmingly intimate. Feeling awkward, I instinctively leaned back and lifted my chin slightly—which inadvertently lent my posture an air of arrogance. I wanted to tell her outright to move a little further away.
Since Madame Toten had agreed to be my chaperone, I was certainly willing to help her. But wouldn't it be more logical to first discover what exactly she was asking? I had my limits, after all.
"Is this about Ryder?"
"Yes." Her voice broke. "Only you can bring that child back."
Now the picture began to coalesce. After listening to Madame Toten, I easily pieced together the entire backstory. Her son had been so gravely ill that, consumed by worry and constant care, she had only remembered my debutante ball today—which explained why she had rushed here in such desperate haste. But Ryder's condition remained dire, and clinging to her last hope, she had come to me.
"I dare to ask you..." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "Please, return Ryder to me."
Madame Toten's eyes brimmed with fresh tears. I had previously made clear that I possessed no special method of saving her son, that the rumors to that effect were nothing more than rumors. This request caught me entirely off guard. I had assumed she was simply avoiding me.
"If this continues, Diaz—just as the butler wants—will take the marquisate from us."
"The butler?"
That same elderly butler who had always seemed the very embodiment of loyalty and devotion?
"As you said, my lady, the butler has been misleading me all this time. Taking advantage of my child's illness, he's been working to bring my late husband's younger brother here—the one who holds the right to inherit the title..."
_Wait._ I was clearly missing something crucial. So that dignified old butler had turned out to be a scoundrel? And I had supposedly warned her about this? But I had actually *praised* him.
Madame Toten briefly outlined the family situation. Beyond the specific details, it appeared the butler and her late husband's younger brother had conspired together, intending to await Ryder's death and then seize the marquisate for themselves.
The matter proved far more serious than I had imagined. This wasn't simply about treating a sick child—it was a struggle for inheritance that had engulfed the entire marquisate. It now became clear that the butler had advised concealing any information about possible treatment not out of concern for discretion, but out of purely selfish motives.
Madame Toten considered for a moment. She bit her lip and clasped her hands tightly, as though gathering her courage. Every so often, she glanced furtively at my reaction, and after a lengthy hesitation, her lips moved—clearly preparing to say something more.
"Please help me. I can only turn to you, my lady."
Now Madame Toten was truly powerless. The only way to reverse the situation was for Ryder to recover fully and for his position as heir to be firmly established. Apparently, she had decided that I was capable of accomplishing both. Evangeline possessed a notorious reputation, considerable wealth, and a precedent for "miraculous recovery" from serious illness.
But could I actually help?
Evangeline had only recovered because I had inhabited her body. This realization made me hesitate, especially under the gaze of Madame Toten—silently weeping, watching me with desperate hope. However, after a brief pause, I finally made my decision.
"Hena, how much time do we have?"
"Quite enough to stop by the Marquise's residence for a short while."
Hena checked the time and answered with such confidence that she seemed to be pushing me toward this very decision. So it really *was* possible to make a detour.
I might not be as omnipotent as Madame Toten hoped, but I could at least hear her out and try to share her burden. Even if I failed to heal the child, I could use my reputation as a villain to protect Ryder from the butler—or from the late marquis's brother, who had already begun seizing power within the marquisate.
I couldn't simply turn away. It would have wounded me too deeply. After all, this had been a mutually beneficial exchange. Madame Toten, despite Evangeline's infamy, had agreed to be my chaperone. Yes, she had vanished without explanation, but the reason was now clear—her child's illness. And yet she had still rushed here that same day, terrified of being too late.
"Captain Gabriel mentioned that Madame Toten is considered a model of noble ladyship. Someone worth emulating."
Madame Toten clearly hadn't expected such an introduction and stared at me in surprise.
After her wild ride through the rain, her hair hung limp and disheveled, her makeup had nearly washed away entirely, and her dress was torn in several places. For a woman renowned as an impeccable socialite—a role model for those around her—her current appearance was frankly unkempt.
"I cannot take my chaperone to the reception in this condition. Unfortunately, the Rohanson mansion has no suitable clothing for you, so we'll need to stop by the Marquise de Toten's residence first."
Madame Toten's eyes widened.
"I can't let you travel alone in such dreadful weather. I'll accompany you."
Besides, Madame Toten had ridden here on horseback without stopping at the Rohanson mansion. Since we were both attending the reception, it made more sense to visit the marquisate first, get her properly dressed, and then proceed to the ball together.
"Thank you." Her voice trembled with emotion. "Thank you, my lady."
Madame Toten, deeply moved, brimmed with tears once more.
First the Count at dinner, remarking that I had begun to behave like a human being. And now this... The moment I showed even a shred of kindness, those around me seemed to worry and grow flustered.
I couldn't help wondering what an utterly unbearable person the real Evangeline must have been.
"Then let us hurry to the mansion... Oh."
Inspired, Madame Toten stepped forward—and suddenly faltered, her ankle buckling. The heel of her shoe had broken off so completely that almost nothing remained. It seemed she truly had rushed here without paying the slightest attention to her own state.
My shoes probably wouldn't fit her, but one pair seemed close in size. I remembered it almost immediately.
"Daisy, bring my mother's shoes. The ones Misa repaired."
"Yes, my lady."
Daisy returned swiftly and presented the shoes.
"What about the size?"
"They fit..." Madame Toten hesitated, her brow furrowing. "But am I permitted to wear your late mother's belongings?"
They were the very pair found in the storage room. Most of Evangeline's mother's possessions had been neatly stored downstairs, but these particular shoes had somehow ended up abandoned near my chambers. Elegant and feminine, clearly not my size, they had been covered in dark red stains when I first discovered them. I had assumed they were meant to be discarded, yet for some reason, they never were.
I had felt awkward disposing of another person's belongings, so I simply left them where they lay. Later, Misa—mistaking them for mine—had meticulously mended them. She even complained that the stains proved difficult to remove. But because they were the wrong size, I had never worn them, and the shoes remained unused.
"Yes. It doesn't matter."
If they could now be of use to Madame Toten, I would be only too glad.