Guidelines for the Perfect Goodbye - Chapter 53
Cecilia rubbed her sore chin and grumbled.
“It seems you’ve already made up your mind, so what significance does my answer hold?”
His thick eyebrows arched quizzically.
“After all, if you truly wanted the truth, you would have already spoken to your father or Madam Rosencrantz.”
“You…”
Nigel furrowed his brow.
Cecilia let out a small laugh.
“If you suspect me, you might as well go directly and tell them. Whether it’s your despised stepmother or my father, who now sees Rosencrantz as an enemy.”
Pointing fingers at Cecilia wouldn’t yield much for Nigel. In this household, Cecilia Lasphilla’s existence was considered too insignificant and trivial.
Even if he strongly insisted, he might momentarily dispel suspicion from her. However, he could also face backlash due to a lie from the true culprit or betrayal from an accomplice.
‘Theoretically, it’s a plan impossible for me alone.’
Moreover, it would be quite embarrassing for someone of the stature of the royal guard’s vice-captain to admit falling by the hands of a seventeen-year-old girl.
It would be an intolerable disgrace for the proud Nigel Rosencrantz.
And above all…
‘What good would it do to tell a story that benefits Guinevere and her son?’
If her father had been a man to tell the truth as it was, none of these troubles would have occurred.
Adam, being as slippery and savvy as he was, surely proposed a deal to Nigel to manipulate the outcome of this situation.
‘Unless he’s a complete fool, he wouldn’t have accused me over Ulysses.’
Attacking a powerless and possession-less illegitimate bastard would only bring momentary satisfaction without gaining anything substantial.
So, this was merely Nigel attempting to exploit Cecilia’s vulnerability for personal vendettas or venting his frustration.
Who would be scared of that.
“Say that then.”
Cecilia said so and stood up from the bed, straightening her dress.
Nigel watched her calm demeanor for a moment before speaking in a self-deprecating tone.
“You’ve thought that far ahead, huh? Should I commend you?”
“…”
As Cecilia clamped her mouth shut and stared, Nigel raised his palms to shoulder height.
I lose. There’s no more reason to press. That seemed to be the implication.
Instead, he asked in a notably different tone, laden with meaning.
“Are you going to let Guinevere die just like that?”
“What can I do about it?”
Nigel lowered his head, a chuckle escaping through his nose. The question changed.
“Do you think she’ll die?”
“Who knows.”
Cecilia leaned on her chin, squinting her eyes.
“Maybe she won’t recover quickly? According to Lady Rosencrantz, she wasn’t poisoned, after all.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“What a shame.”
He didn’t stop Cecilia from heading to the door again. Only before turning the doorknob, he casually tossed one more non-aggressive question.
“Why did you do it?”
The inquiry carried no malicious intent. It seemed he was genuinely curious.
Of course, that didn’t mean she could give an answer. Therefore, Cecilia chose the mildest response from what she wanted to say and blurted it out carelessly.
“I’m sorry about the pendant. I shouldn’t have touched that.”
Nigel asked no further, nor did he respond.
***
The sun had set. The time for afternoon tea had long passed.
Cecilia lifted her gaze to the window with a shaded look. Her neat neckline extended, revealing her delicate jawline.
“Your posture is proper.”
Guinevere commented as if appraising her.
Her silvery blue eyes slowly turned towards her.
“Is that so? Thank you for the compliment.”
Two cups of lukewarm tea were left on the table. Guinevere grimaced at the bitter taste of the aged tea.
“Your mother asked me to take care of you.”
“You met my mother…?”
Cecilia bit her lip.
“Were you so ill that you saw the dead?”
Guinevere’s lips curved mockingly. Her once pale complexion seemed better. The medicine must have worked well.
“Are you pretending not to know, or do you really know nothing?”
“All I know is that you have been very ill recently, Aunt, and that you’ve spent the entire holiday bedridden. Beyond that, I know nothing. Truly.”
Cecilia, well-prepared, delivered her answer while lifting her teacup. However, the tips of her fingers on the cup’s handle were trembling.
