Maylily - Chapter 60

Hailey Skaard was a woman who had grown despondent in her barren marriage. When Victor seduced her and ran away with her in the night, he had two calculations in mind.

He would either marry the divorced woman later and become the son-in-law of a marquess, or send her quietly back to her husband’s house and take money in exchange for keeping silent.

However, the woman was shunned by both families. Once the expected profit disappeared, it was only natural for Victor to abandon her. Fearing retaliation from the two families, he fled abroad. Around that time, a letter arrived informing him of Maylily’s birth.

Right after the gossip article came an obituary published a few months later, announcing the death of the Countess.

How could he have so completely forgotten that incident… the one that had shaken all of high society, with him at its very center?

Even Victor himself found it absurd. Yet, considering that he was a man who cared for nothing beyond his own safety and pleasure, a man who lived only for the day, it wasn’t all that surprising.

At the edge of his faint memory, he recalled that the woman had a son.

Hugh Skaard.

The sudden realization of the Count’s name made Victor understand that he was now sitting in the seat of judgment. Meeting the Count’s eyes, filled with quiet amusement, Victor felt a chill.

“Isn’t that expression a little premature? We’re just getting started.”

Stock manipulation by his trading company, the scandal of overseas bad debts, the failed gold mine development….

Every time Victor turned a page out of morbid curiosity, the story of his downfall unfolded step by step. The years he had spent falling without even realizing it. At the end of it all lay a report containing Maylily’s personal information.

The faces of the man who had tailed him in Purdshire and the headmaster who had spun his lies flashed through Victor’s mind in quick succession.

“So all of this… was orchestrated by you?”

Watching Victor’s eyes tremble violently, the Count tilted his head with a slight, crooked smile.

“I merely let a few suspicious rumors reach your ears. That alone was enough to make you dive headfirst into the fire every single time. There was no need for me to do more.”

“Rather than setting such a petty trap, you should’ve just hired an assassin. That would’ve made for a cleaner revenge. Seems the mighty Count of Everscourt doesn’t have the guts for that, huh?”

“I wanted to watch your downfall, not your death. An instant end would’ve been boring. I enjoyed watching you thrash around, caught in your own pathetic traps. More entertaining than I expected, really. And better yet, I didn’t have to feel a shred of guilt.”

The Count spoke with the composure of a ruler wielding absolute power, yet his expression resembled that of a boy crushing ants purely for amusement.

“Keeping you alive had its perks. Thanks to that, I could have your daughter as much as I pleased. Oh, don’t misunderstand, it was she who spread her legs for me first.”

“You vile—”

“How does it feel now that your last lifeline’s been cut?”

After all these years, to realize he’d been toyed with by some young brat, it made Victor’s blood boil. Overwhelmed by rage, he felt the urge to rip that smug smile off the Count’s face.

“You defile an innocent woman because of something no one remembers? I’ll expose your filthy deeds to society. I’ll make sure your family name is forever stained with disgrace!”

“As you wish. Let the world see that even when everyone else forgets, Everscourt never does.”

Victor’s venomous threat didn’t so much as ruffle a hair on the Count’s head. Though his own life had been trampled into ruin, that indifference drove Victor into an even deeper frenzy.

“You bastard!”

With bloodshot eyes, Victor lunged like a mad dog. Without rising from his seat, Hugh simply extended his leg and kicked Victor squarely in the knee.

“Argh!”

At Victor’s scream as he collapsed to the floor, the attendants waiting outside rushed in all at once. Even as they dragged him out, Victor hurled curses at Hugh, ones that would never reach him.

The smile that had lingered on Hugh’s lips vanished completely.

“Are you all right, my lord?”

To David’s alarmed question, Hugh simply nodded in silence, his gaze chillingly cold. Then, placing a cigar between his lips, he turned to stand by the window once more, his eyes fixed on the distant district of Cryer.

***

The parlor looked as though it had been ransacked by thieves. Returning home from an outing, Pamela froze when she saw Victor collapsed in the middle of the chaos and rushed to him in alarm.

“What happened, Victor? Are you all right?”

“Do I look all right to you? My entire life’s been toyed with by that bastard, and you think I’d be fine?”

Victor shouted, his face twisted with rage and despair. His words came out incoherently, but Pamela, listening to his rambling about his visit to the Count of Everscourt, quickly understood one thing.

It had gone wrong.

Letting out a troubled sigh, she watched as Victor began to sob aloud.

“All that’s left for me now is to die like a dog in some godforsaken mine with no light. My life’s over. It’s all because of that son of a bitch.”

Even with tears and snot smeared across his face, he was still a handsome man. Pamela, her heart aching, gently wiped his cheek.

She had longed for this man all her life. She had broken up with him countless times, tired of his endless infidelity, only to take him back every time he came crawling back like a migratory bird.

If she could save Victor from this crisis, maybe this time she could finally have him completely. With that hope, she had poured the money she’d earned from pouring drinks and selling smiles into finding his daughter, but it had all gone to waste.

The hot tears that touched her fingertips ignited a fire of fury in Pamela’s chest. And there was only one direction that fire would turn.

Maylily Aile.

The living proof of Victor’s betrayal, the existence that reminded Pamela of everything she lacked.

That woman had to be destroyed completely this time. Only then, perhaps, would the jealousy that had festered inside her for years—toward a woman she had never even seen—finally be soothed.

“I can’t let it end like this. I’ll make that bitch pay, even if it kills me.”

As Victor ground his teeth and tried to rise, Pamela grabbed his shoulders tightly.

“Wait, Victor.”

A sinister gleam flashed in her eyes, filled entirely with Victor.

“I have a good idea.”

***

The Roden Opera Company’s spring season was set to close this weekend, but Maylily’s season ended a bit earlier—today.

After performing in the evening show, Maylily left the theater with Greta, heading toward the omnibus stop. The moon above the zelkova tree across the street shone brightly in the night sky.

“Must be nice to be done already, May. I still have another show the day after tomorrow.”

“It feels good to finish the season safely, but thinking that I won’t be on stage for a while makes me a bit sad.”

“Then how about taking my spot for the next show?”

“Mm… I take that back.”

“Ha, you’re impossible.”

Greta playfully pressed her palm to her forehead and shook her head. When Maylily laughed at the sight, Greta joined in with a chuckle of her own.

“You’re coming to the closing party, right? Oh, wait… it might still be awkward for you.”

“It’s not that. I just have something to take care of on Sunday.”

Maylily smiled calmly at Greta, who scratched her head awkwardly.

Ever since the newspaper article came out two days ago, revealing her connection to the Count of Everscourt, Maylily had found herself the center of attention. Outside the theater, journalists bombarded her with questions, while inside, she was met with a mixture of admiration and envy from the troupe members.

For this to happen right when her relationship with the Count had become uncertain… it left her unsure how to act. That was when David had come to see her.

“The Count of Everscourt has stated his intention to maintain the current patronage.”

It was the kind of response one would expect from a cold, businesslike man who drew clear lines between public and private matters. And it infuriated her.

While avoiding the one conversation that truly needed to happen, the Count was satisfying his own sense of duty and responsibility through material support that Maylily had never asked for. He was, truly, a cowardly man.

The season was over, and tomorrow she would go see him in person. She would tell him she no longer wanted his patronage. To make her intentions clear, she planned to move back to her old boarding house the following weekend. She had already spoken with the landlady about it.

Maylily pushed aside her thoughts with a small shake of her head and began discussing future plans with Greta. They agreed to prepare together for the soloist selection audition to be held at the end of the month.

Even after her relationship with the Count had been revealed, Greta treated Maylily just as she always had. That alone was a great comfort.

Feeling a little lighter, Maylily talked with Greta about her audition piece as they walked. But when they reached the crosswalk in front of the omnibus stop, Victor appeared before them.

“Maylily, let’s talk for a moment.”

“Go back. I have nothing to say to you.”

When Maylily tried to walk past him firmly, Victor suddenly grabbed her wrist.

“This is very important. It won’t take long.”

Feeling the curious glances directed at them, Maylily quickly sent Greta ahead first. She didn’t want anyone to know that this despicable man was her father.

Only after they stepped off the main road into a narrow side alley did Victor finally release her. Maylily kept her distance, watching him warily.

“I read the article, Maylily. Why didn’t you tell me earlier about your relationship with the Count of Everscourt?”

“My refusal to marry has nothing to do with him.”

Seeing the guarded look return to her eyes over the past few days, Victor sighed.

“The Count’s waiting nearby.”

“…The Count?”

“Yes. Since word has gotten out that he’s your patron and has done such things to you, he should take responsibility. I thought it was only right that you be present for the discussion, so I came to bring you there myself.”

With those words, Victor turned and began walking deeper into the alley. There was something off about the way he moved.

The Count wouldn’t even agree to see her, so why would he meet Victor here? And this strangely softened demeanor… none of it made sense.

“What are you doing? Come along.”

Victor looked back and urged her impatiently.

“I….”

I’m not going. The words caught in her throat as she hesitated and began stepping backward.

“Mmph.”

In an instant, Victor was behind her, pressing a handkerchief soaked with anesthetic over her nose and mouth.

“It would’ve been easier if you’d walked to the carriage on your own. What a troublesome girl to the very end.”

“Mmph….”

Maylily struggled, thrashing her arms and legs, but the sound was muffled by the cloth and Victor’s grip. Her blue eyes filled rapidly with terror.

The main road, lit by streetlamps, was only a few steps away, yet she couldn’t take a single step toward it. As Victor bound her from behind and dragged her deeper into the dark alley, Maylily’s eyelids grew heavy and began to close.