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The Beast and The Swallow
III-43. Honey trap (2)

III-43. Honey trap (2)

Every word the Duke uttered was a slap in Pricilla’s face. She froze for a moment, not knowing how to respond, but instinctively sensing that one wrong step would destroy any chances she had left to make this man her own. If she failed in this task, it would ruin Lionel’s carefully crafted plan, and deep down she harbored a suspicion that the Prince wouldn’t forgive her easily for the lost chance.

As anger and desperation gripped her heart, it wasn’t difficult for Pricilla to force out some genuine tears. From the corner of her eyes, she could see the Duke flinching at her reaction. This somewhat calmed down her strained nerves and gave her confidence. The Beast of Norden was, despite his rough manners, weak to a beautiful lady’s tears, just like any other man. Sobbing hard and twisting her handkerchief, she made sure to become the embodiment of a pitiful, young maiden. Her lower lip trembled; her eyelids fluttered in just the right rhythm to drive new batches of tears down her cheeks; her nostrils twitched slightly to create the image of a frightened, innocent damsel.

“S-so t-that’s how you s-see me, Your Highness!” She sniffled and made sure that her voice trembled at the right times. “Y-you see me as a lecherous, easy woman! Dear Fathers! if you only knew the truth…”

“Then enlighten me, Lady Orten.” The Duke’s voice was still cold, but Pricilla detected the tiniest bit of hesitation. This was plenty to work with.

While modestly lowering her head, she quickly glanced around the room. Besides Bessie who stood like a morose statue some distance behind her, there was also the Duke’s servant waiting for his master’s orders beside the door. It was a pity that the Beast of Norden was so frugal with his retainers, but she could work with what she had. Excluding Bessie, who was sworn to silence at the price of her life, the more ears heard her story the better. She was certain that the rumor mill would start running at full speed by the hour.

“Your Highness is right,” she muttered weakly, but still high enough for everyone to hear her. “You did see me with Prince Lionel. But… Do you think someone like me could refuse the advances of an Imperial Heir? In your eyes, I am a ruined woman, but I’m still alive… Although, sometimes I wish I was dead. I wish I could forget… what he did to me…”

“And yet, you didn’t seem to show much aversion towards my brother’s affections during the wedding banquet.”

Hollow laughter left Pricilla’s lips. She motioned to dab the corner of her eyes with her handkerchief and made sure her right sleeve rolled down a bit, revealing a purplish bruise on her wrist. Last night, she had vented her anger on Bessie and hurt her hand in the process, but now it all worked to her advantage.

“A filial daughter is always supposed to follow her father’s will,” she said, biting her lip. “And… father isn’t a man who allows his authority to be challenged, especially by his daughters. I know better than to rebel against father’s orders.”

“That bruise...” The Duke’s brows furrowed even further, creating a singular line on his brow. “Did your father hit you? Was it because of last night?”

“When father is agitated, he tends to forget his strength,” muttered Pricilla absentmindedly but suddenly stiffened and her eyes rounded in horror. “Oh, no! Your Highness, I didn’t mean… I hope you don’t misunderstand… Father is just strict and a bit short-tempered, so sister talking back and provoking him made him flare up.”

“So, you are saying it was my wife’s fault? I knew you didn’t have a good relationship, but to go as far as accusing the Duchess of Norden of malicious actions… I can’t decide whether you are brave or stupid.”

“No! How could I!? Sister isn’t a malicious person, so even if she provoked father, I know it wasn’t intentional. She just… didn’t know better. Ever since she was young, she has been very straightforward and, alas, a tad inconsiderate with her actions, and sometimes… she misreads the room. It’s not her fault, it's just that… her upbringing…”

Pricilla didn’t finish the sentence, instead throwing a glance at the man before her from under her lashes. His rigid face showed little emotion, but she glimpsed a slight twitch, pulling the corners of his lips down. Although the Duke had some peculiar attachment to that good-for-nothing wench, it seemed that he wasn’t stupid enough to ignore the obvious shortcomings stemming from her lowly birth. Who knows how often that obtuse wastrel had misstepped and broken the rules of propriety and court protocol, tarnishing his honor and reputation. After all, no matter how much she tried, Lorelei was just the offshoot of a dirty maid, and no expensive clothes or fineries could transform a pig into a peacock. Surely, the display of grandeur yesterday had been a well-played act to humble the guests and parade the power of House Norden, nothing more. Still, to be on the safe side, Pricilla had to drive in the point further and make sure everyone understood what a real noble lady was supposed to be like, compared to that witless low-born.

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Sniffling artistically a few times, she continued shyly.

“I don’t know what my sister has told you, but… please don’t be angry, Your Highness, and allow me to speak the truth. My sister… she has always had the tendency to… overinterpret and exaggerate things without fully understanding the situation. Since her birth mother died, she has been under the care of the late Countess, my mother. But… for some reason… Lorelei has always treated us like strangers and enemies. This broke my mother’s heart, but still, she always defended her before father…”

Pressing the handkerchief to her mouth, Pricilla took a wheezing breath and forced new tears to stream down her cheeks.

“When mother passed away ten years ago, there was no one left to placate father and reign in Lorelei’s brashness. Oh, Your Highness, father is not a bad man, he acts only in the interest of his family. But he also demands respect, and my sister… was often punished as a result of her uncomely actions. All he ever tried to do was to teach her manners befitting of a count’s daughter, to reform her crude ways, so that she may be accepted in the noble circles despite the drawback of her mother’s background. But instead of seeing his sincere care for what it was, sister… She hates him. And this hatred has spread to myself and our brother.”

Lifting her head abruptly, Pricilla looked the man before her straight in the eyes. Her body trembled and indignation was written all over her face.

“Sister… began telling everyone we mistreated her. I think she genuinely believes that we've been acting against her with malicious intent, but it's still hurtful to see her telling such untruths to others. Even our brother, Ronan failed to reason with her-”

“Your brother?” The Duke snorted and drummed on the armrest of his chair. “I wouldn’t call a lecherous prick that knows no shame and gropes his little sister in some dark corner a brother trying to reason with his sibling. Are you really willing to defend the person who attempted such a heinous act before my very own eyes?”

“W-What!?”

This time Pricilla was genuinely shocked. She didn’t like that oaf, Ronan, and never understood why their father doted on him so much. But he was nice to her and was more than willing to open his purse any time she begged him for a trinket. Sure, she knew he had a taste for maids, just like their father in his youth, but, as her nanny had always said, it was just the normal behavior of a healthy young man. But to stoop so low as to desire an incestuous relationship with Lorelei!? So that’s why the Beast of Norden had broken his arm and mangled his manhood!

That idiot Ronan totally deserved it! Of all days to succumb to his lust, why did he choose the wedding of his own sister?! If he had wanted her, he should have had her before she was given to the Beast of Norden! Twenty years living under the same roof, and he had to wait for that slut to get married to act upon his desires…

Suddenly, Pricilla remembered an accident that had occurred about six years ago. Her father had beaten Ronan a breath away from death and had forbidden Lorelei to participate in any family events. He had also suddenly sent a couple of squires away to the old manor on Rafida Island. So that buffoon had tried to have his way with Lorelei once before! If she remembered correctly, amongst the exiled squires had been one especially close to Ronan - a good-looking lad who had shown some inclinations toward that mist-born.

“What is it, Lady Orten?” The Duke’s cold tone made her flinch. “Cat got your tongue? Or are you considering what more lies are you going to tell me?”

Pricilla’s heart was drumming like crazy. His anger was understandable - someone had dared put their hands on his property. And she had foolishly tried to defend that pig Rolland. If her plans failed, it was all that pampered, horny idiot’s fault! Or… Maybe…

Her eyes rounded and she gasped, her fingers digging into her skirt.

“H-He… did that? A-are you sure?”

“Yes. And-”

“Oh, dear Gods! Lorelei… My poor sister! So I wasn't… He did that to her… too?!”