He Said He Loved Me, but It Was Because of a Potion - Chapter 2

2

 

An empty liquor bottle rolled down and stopped just barely at the edge of the roof.

Julie was glaring at me.

“Come down.”

“Well…”

“Now!”

Julie was only five years older than me, but having lost my parents, she had been my only family.

Sometimes as a friend, other times as the only family I had, Julie had stayed by my side for twenty years now.

She was now the only one who remembered my childhood, when I had been too sick to even get out of bed.

I skillfully hung from the roof, stepped onto the attic railing, and kicked open the third-floor window.

Pretending not to hear Julie gasping from below, I hurled myself straight into the room.

The landing was perfect, but because of the hangover, I stayed hunched over for a while, dry heaving.

The only housekeeper in this mansion, who lived with a constant cough, found me and came over to pat my back.

“I lock that third-floor window every time. How do you keep opening it?”

“I was drunk, I don’t remember.”

The housekeeper coughed a few times, pulled a key from his pocket, and examined it suspiciously.

When I went down to the first floor, Julie was waiting with her arms crossed. “What do you think about the crows that keep flying around our house lately?”

“Really? No wonder I keep waking up from sleep. It’s noisy.”

“They’re drawn to the glint of empty bottles! Because someone stacked a pile of them on the roof!”

“Oh.”

“I got shoulder pain dragging them down one by one with a pole, you know that?”

“I’ll go get them down now.”

“Forget it! I’m telling you not to go up there ever again!”

“But isn’t it safer if I go up while I’m sober…”

“Just! Don’t go up!”

“O-okay.”

Julie let out a deep sigh from within and ran a hand through her hair.

“…You always want to climb high places when you’re drunk.”

“Then I’ll go climb that new clock tower in the square instead. Not the roof of this crumbling old house!”

“The clock tower?”

“That armistice memorial tower. It looks like it was completed just yesterday. The timing couldn’t be more fitting.”

“Oh, it’s finished already.”

The war ending before the armistice ‘wishing’ tower was even completed had become a well-known anecdote in the capital.

Thanks to that, it had become an armistice ‘memorial’ tower instead. Honestly, isn’t that a more meaningful name?

The end of the war was more valuable than any cause.

At that moment—

The only coachman in the mansion came running, stumbling across the front yard.

“What’s going on?”

“He’s holding something?”

Julie squinted her eyes and tilted her head. “You can see that?”

“Yeah. Looks like a letter.”

Julie’s face turned grim. “Don’t tell me… a notice?”

Given my reputation—as a disgrace to society, like a pest everyone avoided—it was more likely a warning than a party invitation.

So I too joined Julie in her pale-faced concern.

Though my face was mostly pale from the hangover.

“We paid off all our debts, so no more notices should be coming, right? Or maybe not?”

“Then maybe a duel challenge.”

Even letting our imaginations go that far, Julie never once mentioned a party or an invitation.

Honestly, even a duel challenge required some kind of interaction with others.

Four years ago, since that day, any kind of connection—be it business, friendship, or mere acquaintance—was completely burned away, leaving not even ashes.

No one had asked how I was doing since then.

It had been four years like that.

“Huff, haah, huff…”

Julie snatched the letter from the coachman’s hand before he could say anything through his gasping.

“What the, why is this so fancy? Who sends a duel challenge on something this nice?”

Just touching it was enough to tell it was made of luxurious paper.

It even faintly smelled of flowers.

“L-letter… huff, a letter…”

“We can see that it’s a letter!”

Julie snapped, frustrated, and flipped the envelope over to find the sender.

“Here it is.”

I spotted the sender before Julie did, and she quickly shoved the letter into my hands.

“You read it, Baroness.”

“……”

Even then, I kept checking the sender again and again.

Because I could hardly believe what I was seeing.

‘Ishtan Gladinare.’

There wasn’t a single soul in the capital who didn’t know that name, so concise it almost felt too short.

The supreme commander who achieved brilliant military victories and returned home to the sound of triumph.

A pillar of one of the empire’s three great dukedoms, and the youngest duke of the era.

Just hearing one of his battlefield tales would make his nickname ‘Butcher Duke’ sound like an understatement.

On the battlefield, he didn’t merely perform heroic deeds—he repeatedly achieved miracles that made ‘butcher’ seem mild.

Without saying a word to Julie, I opened the envelope first.

Inside was…

“Lady Asha, I’m not seeing things, right?”

An invitation.

An invitation to the victory banquet at the imperial palace, which was expected to be the grandest event in recent memory.

Sent directly by the guest of honor himself—Duke Gladinare.

Who would ever send an invitation to someone like me?

Was this really an invitation?

Julie, after finally noticing the name written on the front of the envelope, let out a sharp scream.

“Lady Asha! Lady Asha!”

“I hear you.”

“Wh-why would that notoriously ruthless commander invite you, Lady Asha?”

Unfortunately, I had no idea either.

There wasn’t even a hint I could speculate on.

The duke was as good as a total stranger to me.

I could swear we hadn’t even brushed past each other by chance.

Until I turned nineteen, I couldn’t take a single step outside due to an unknown chronic illness.

By the time I recovered and first set foot into society, he had already gone off to war.

While he was on the battlefield, I—who had entered society alone without family or connections—unexpectedly found myself a lover.

And afterward, lost him in the most wretched way imaginable.

A love potion.

He said he had taken one.

That he had fallen in love with me because of it, that he’d only been momentarily insane.

And just like that, he left.

Without a shred of regret.

That rumor spread like wildfire and shook the capital’s high society.

It was during the time gossip magazines were hitting record-breaking sales.

I had become the woman who tried to seduce a man using a forbidden method.

 

“It’s really disgusting.”

“No sane woman would cling to a man like that.”

“It’s not just obsession, it’s a crime.”

“How awful must it feel to have whispered sweet nothings to a woman you didn’t even love all that time?”

“It’s a good thing the count was broad-minded enough to forgive her, seriously…”

“That woman supposedly got sick before she could even walk and spent over ten years bedridden. Do you think she learned anything properly?”

“Maybe she thought marrying into a ducal family would finally fix her life.”

“I just feel bad for the count who got entangled with someone like that.”

“And to think she had such high standards.”

 

I shouted with all the strength I had.

 

“I didn’t feed it to him!”

 

But no one believed me.

No, no one even listened.

Not even him.

 

“I didn’t give it to him. It’s the truth.”

“What difference does that make?”

“……”

“I never loved you. Not for a single moment.”

 

Not long after, he got engaged to another woman.

As if our past had been something shameful.

I shook my head hard to chase that idiotic memory from my mind.

Ugh, talk about a bad omen.

Julie was looking at me with concern.

I was about to tell her not to worry when she spoke up.

“Could it be that he likes gossip?”

“……”

“Maybe he just wanted to see the infamous woman from the scandal for himself, even if it’s a bit late?”

Was that really what you were thinking about?

In the end, I mumbled because I had no real response.

“…That’s not exactly a flattering reason.”

The coachman, who had been catching his breath, straightened up and said, “He said, huff, he wanted to say thank you… asked that you definitely, huff, attend… the messenger said so, cough!”

Julie patted the coachman’s back as he struggled.

He was the oldest servant in the house, so we couldn’t have him getting sick.

While Julie rushed off to bring him a glass of water, I helped him into the house.

Meanwhile, my head was spinning with thoughts.

But honestly, it was like spinning wheels in the mud.

‘A thank-you?’

‘To me?’

‘When did we ever meet?’

‘Thanks? An invitation? A personal request?’

Even though it didn’t help, I kept repeating the same thoughts.

‘Why?’

If I wanted to find out the answer to this incomprehensible question that had found me after four years…

“Are you going to go?”

“I have to.”

In the end, the only choice was to attend the victory banquet.

 

***

 

I placed a hand on Julie’s tense shoulder and said, “Don’t worry. Your work… it’s flawless.”

“I know that too.”

Julie looked me up and down with a haughty expression.

Then she praised herself.

“Perfect.”

“……”

Anyway, to not let all of Julie’s efforts in dressing me up from head to toe go to waste—

I firmly resolved to return safely after the banquet.

“I’m off.”

But Julie still looked at me with suspicion.

“If you’re planning on causing a scene, you better be ready to never show your face to me again.”

“A scene? Why say something so scary? Julie, don’t you trust me?”

“What’s always present at a banquet?”

“Other nobles who are dying to see me make a fool of myself?”

“Think again.”

“…I don’t know? The attendants?”

“Lady Asha. What’s the first thing you want to do when you get there?”

“Well, I guess I’ll start with a glass of champagne… just one…”

“……”

“Even if I promise not to drink, you won’t believe me, will you?”

“In that case, I’d rather serve the crows that live on our roof as my new masters.”

“That’s not a bad idea.”

“You think so?”

“…No.”

“I’m saying this again: don’t come back here having caused trouble. I won’t take you in.”

“Got it…”

Looking dejected, I climbed into the carriage.

The hard-of-hearing coachman didn’t realize it was time to leave until I banged my fist repeatedly against the carriage wall.

I collapsed onto the seat, feeling my hangover creep back up—something I’d been holding back in front of Julie.

“…Ugh.”

Regardless, the carriage jolted into motion.

Toward the imperial palace.