We’re Sisters, Aren’t We…?

“Ah… ah, I…”

Noel did not drop his smile. But it was not an expression of warmth meant to accept Isabella—it was a wall of rejection.

“H—!”

A crushed scream burst from Isabella’s throat.

Not caring that her dress became dirty, Isabella threw herself to the floor and clung to Noel’s feet.

“I’m so sorry!! I—I truly was worried about my sister, truly! About my sister who married in my place… I was overwhelmed by guilt, and everything looked wrong to me! I didn’t know my sister and Lucien-sama loved each other! I’ll reflect on this, I will. So please…!”

“Lady Isabella.”

Noel’s voice was cold.

A shiver ran straight down her spine.

“If you keep piling lies on top of lies, your crime will only grow heavier.”

“…!!”

Unable even to lift her face, Isabella heard what sounded like a final notice.

“Lucien-sama!”

Isabella’s hand reached for Lucien’s shoe.

“You understand, don’t you? You hated my sister at first as well. She was your enemy! Isn’t it only natural that I misunderstood?”

‘Y-you too…?’

At the shameless words, anger boiled violently within Lucien.

If Marguerite were to reproach him, he would accept it without protest. If she were to say he was no different from her sister, he would have no right to argue back.

But—

“Do not speak of me and you in the same breath. It makes me want to grind that face of yours into the floor.”

Facing Lucien as he looked down at her with murderous intent, Isabella finally understood the depth of his fury.

“S-save me, Sister…!!”

“!”

There was no one left she could cling to in this place except Marguerite.

Tears spilling freely, her disheveled hair brushing the floor, Isabella pleaded in a trembling voice.

“Sister, I’ll repent. I was wrong. Please forgive me. Please. If you say so, Noel-sama and Lucien-sama will forgive me too…!”

“Isabella…”

Clear drops spilled from Marguerite’s pale eyes as well.

Unable even to wipe her tears, Marguerite stared blankly at Isabella.

That proud sister, the sister who had always boasted of her beauty, was now pressing her forehead to the floor in a pitiful state.

‘But… it’s all still about herself.’

In Isabella’s words, there was not a single apology for hurting Marguerite. Nor for Lucien.

There was only desperate self-preservation and words meant to provoke pity.

“Sister! Please, Sister… we’re sisters, aren’t we…?”

Her skirt hem was grabbed, and Marguerite’s body stiffened.

Looking up at the sister who could not shake her off, Isabella’s eyes were filled with expectation. Her strained smile revealed how cornered she truly was.

“Sister… help me… say you forgive me.”

‘Isabella has no one left but me now. Because I never spoke firmly… I became happy, and because of me, Isabella—’

Suddenly, Marguerite’s vision went dark.

Isabella’s twisted smile disappeared from view. She was pulled backward, her body enveloped by something large.

“That’s enough.”

Lucien’s voice sounded at her ear.

What blocked Marguerite’s sight was Lucien’s hand.

“That’s enough. Don’t look anymore. Don’t listen anymore. That house has nothing to do with you now.”

‘No—no, Lucien-sama, Isabella is my—’

“You are House de Broy’s—my wife, Marguerite.”

Lucien’s arms tightened. Unable to resist, she was pulled close, and the weight tugging at her skirt vanished.

“…It seems we’ve reached a conclusion. Take her away.”

“Nooo…!!”

The attendants restrained Isabella and dragged her away from Marguerite.

“The details will be settled at a later date. Thank you for your cooperation.”

“Indeed. I apologize for the discourtesy of not seeing you off.”

“Don’t worry about it. Please take good care of Lady Marguerite.”

Noel’s cheerful voice and Lucien’s stiff reply crossed, and then silence finally settled over the room.

Everything appeared to have been handled with swift efficiency.

By the time Marguerite finally managed to calm herself and slowly stepped away from Lucien, Noel, his attendants, and of course Isabella, were all gone without even a trace of their presence.