Please Support My Revenge - Chapter 28.2

Lobelia found their apprehension amusing and nearly succumbed to laughter.

“What is it that you’re sorry for?” she inquired, her tone laced with a hint of mischief.

The maid’s expression grew more harried by the second. She fidgeted, her eyes flitting around the gazebo.

“We were discussing something, and your name happened to come up,” she explained haltingly.

“I see.” Lobelia’s reply was noncommittal, and she studied the maids with an air of detachment.

Several of them blushed when they realized they had been caught gossiping, but their shame was fleeting. One of them grew belligerent, and her eyes flashed with indignation.

“What do you want from us? Why are you interrogating us?”

Lobelia was unfazed by their hostility and maintained her serenity.

“I merely wished to join in on the conversation,” she said, her voice soft and even.

The representative maid bristled.

“We don’t need your input. We don’t care about you,” she spat.

Lobelia regarded them placidly, her gaze cool and indifferent.

‘Why should they care about me?” She thought to herself.

The maids were her peers, but since her ascension to a higher social stratum, they have become indifferent.

Lobelia, with her piercing gaze, looked at the maids, who were nervously awaiting her retaliation. Her mind was clear, and she had no intention of indulging in their petty games.

“It’s not worth dealing with,” she thought to herself, and she turned to leave.

But before she could take a step, a familiar voice echoed behind her. It was Jade Ferado, the Duke, leaning casually against a tree, observing the scene with interest. The maids immediately bowed their heads in deference, but Lobelia remained composed, tilting her head curiously at Jade’s unexpected presence.

“I thought you were in the study,” Lobelia remarked, recalling that Jade had left earlier, claiming to attend to some backlog.

Jade seemed momentarily at a loss for words, his usual confident demeanor faltering as he sighed and rubbed his face wearily. “The Herald,” he spoke in a low voice, “asked me to restrain myself, as you seem to be wandering around the mansion freely.”

Lobelia couldn’t help but lower her opinion of the Herald in her mind. She had not anticipated him involving Jade in this matter. “Don’t worry, I’ve already spoken to the herald,” she assured Jade, her voice resolute.

With determined strides, Jade approached Lobelia and extended his hand toward her. She looked at it perplexed, unsure of his intentions. “Hand,” Jade said with authority, as if commanding her compliance.

Lobelia’s brow furrowed, questioning his motives.

Is he trying to escort me? she wondered.

“But this is neither a ballroom nor an opera house.”

Jade’s patience seemed to be wearing thin as he forcibly grabbed Lobelia’s hand, his desire to remove her from the situation palpable. “Give me your hand, Lobelia,” he repeated, his tone urgent.

Caught off guard, Lobelia complied, placing her hand atop his, the touch sending a jolt through her. Little did she know that this would be the moment that would change everything between her and Jade Ferado, setting them on a path of unexpected twists and turns in their tumultuous journey of love and intrigue.

Jade’s lips brushed against the back of Lobelia’s hand, but his eyes were as icy as the winter moon as he glared at the maids.

“You are all dismissed,” he said, his voice sharp and cold. “I have no use for servants who gossip about my private life behind my back.”

The maids pleaded with him, their faces filled with pitiful desperation. If they were dishonorably dismissed, finding employment in another noble household would be near impossible. But Jade paid them no heed. With a heavy sigh, he turned away and led Lobelia into the mansion.

As they walked, the servants scattered, bowing their heads in fear at the sight of Jade’s distorted expression. They cleared the way to the bedroom, allowing Jade and Lobelia to pass without hindrance. Jade only released Lobelia’s hand once they were inside and he had closed the bedroom door behind them. Lobelia looked down at her hand, which was now red from the force of Jade’s grip.

She couldn’t understand why Jade was so upset. Or rather, she didn’t want to admit the truth, though she had a vague suspicion. It was hard for her to accept that Jade was worried about her and angry because he was afraid of her getting hurt. If she acknowledged it, the weight of the truth would crush her.

“I overheard what the maids were saying,” Jade said, interrupting her thoughts.

But he didn’t seem to care about Lobelia’s feelings. She involuntarily closed her eyes, knowing that Jade’s consideration and kindness meant nothing to him. Unlike Joheim, who was bound by the chivalrous values of their society, or the second son of Count Domingo, who had no hidden agenda, Jade’s actions were simply those of a good man. Ordering the cake and taking Lobelia away from the maids had been a gesture of politeness, a consideration that met the bare minimum of human decency.

And yet, Lobelia felt suffocated by it all. She pitied herself, feeling like a wounded beast startled by the shallow kindness that could be bestowed upon anyone. She felt the weight of her own poverty, having lived without favor, radiating from her like a palpable aura.