The Story Is Not Over Yet

Chapter 99: 99


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Azela nodded lightly at her words and did not smile. At that, Sylvia threw the bag in her hand at her.

“Pretentious b*tch.”

It was true that Sylvia, now a countess, had a higher title than Azela, who was now nothing, but the expression ‘b*tch’ towards a person is a low-level expression not used among nobles.

Findar, who was standing next to her, hurriedly looked at Azela with a surprised face. She was only hit with a bag, but she was not seriously injured. Findar tried to drive Sylvia away with an angry face though Azela stopped her. She then looked down at Sylvia’s bag on the floor.

“It’s an expensive bag.”

Azela looked at the bag with an emotionless stare, then lifted her foot and trampled it hard.

“Azela!”

Sylvia exclaimed loudly with a shocked look when the bag, which she cherished, was terribly trampled by Azela’s shoe.

“Was it something you cherished? Then, I’ll give it back.”

Saying so, she lightly kicked the bag, which had been trampled on, towards Sylvia. The bag was already a mess. It was dirty with shoe prints, and the pretty ornaments on the bag were a mess. Sylvia saw her bag lying terribly.

“What are you doing? Pick it up.”

“….!”

“You said you cherished it. You have to pick it up… Just like when you picked up my husband whom I had abandoned.”

“Azela, you…”

“After all, picking up is your specialty.”

Loud laughing and sneers came from everywhere with Azela’s words. Eventually, Sylvia couldn’t stand it any longer and turned her back, and hurried out of the boutique. Perhaps, she finally realized that no one here would stand by her side.

“Miss Vellista, you are wonderful!”

“I didn’t believe those rumors in the first place.”

As Sylvia exited the boutique shop, the young ladies who were sitting in the waiting room approached Azela and spoke to her.

Azela glanced at them with an experienced gaze.

Their expressions were a mass of pretense itself. There was no expression of sincere sympathy for her, rather they just liked this story because it was interesting, and she wanted to be a part of this story that was getting much attention or to use Azela to make a connection with Duke Ferial, to get their dress faster than anyone else.

Their stares seemed to be indicating that.

Azela lowered her head to see the messy bag Sylvia had left behind.

“Findar, send that bag to Todd’s mansion.”

“Wouldn’t it be better just to throw it away?”

“Since Sylvia didn’t pick it up, we have to send it to her.”

Perhaps she well received her cruel words. Findar smiled broadly and nodded her head.

Azela, lightly ignoring the nobles around her, turned to Findar and said, ‘When Duke Ferial comes, tell him that I have returned to the mansion first,’ before exiting the boutique shop. Even though she had to wait for Zagnac to come, she was tired and wanted to go back to the mansion to rest.

The distance from the boutique shop to the mansion wasn’t too far, so she decided to call her carriage and went first without waiting.

Just then, with the sound of the horse neighing, a carriage blocked Azela’s way.

“Are you Miss Azela Vellista?”

The man, who was sitting next to the coachman, asked politely. She seemed to be able to tell where they were sent from just by looking at the appearance in the colorful and neat uniform. Azela glanced at the imperial crest engraved on the carriage and nodded her head.

Since Livia would never send a carriage to her, it must be Crown Prince Chises. However, what she heard was rather unexpected.

“His Majesty the Emperor is waiting for you.”

“…Yes?”

Who? The Emperor…?

Hearing the man’s words, Azela looked at the carriage with a dumbfounded gaze. Of course, she thought it would be Crown Prince Chise though it was actually the Emperor. She didn’t understand why the Emperor asked to see her in the first place.

“Please get in.”

Although she did not say that she would go, the man politely opened the door of the carriage. Azela winced and pulled her body back.

“…I’m not in good shape right now, so I’ll get ready and see him again soon.”

If she had known this, she would rather have waited patiently for Zagnac in the boutique shop.

The Emperor was the one who wanted to kill Zagnac, so there was nothing nice about meeting him. Azela frowned and hurried back to the boutique shop, but she couldn’t take one more step. It was because the knights, whom she did not know where they came from, stood in front of her.

“Please, follow us.”

The man’s voice who had opened the carriage door came from behind her. As Azela turned her body, he smiled kindly and gestured toward the carriage.

“His Majesty the Emperor is waiting for you.”

“….”

“He told me to bring you, so please forgive my rudeness.”

Saying so, the man reached out to grab her wrist. Even if she rebelled here, she couldn’t win. Sensing the meaning of the hand reaching out to her, Azela coldly slaps the man’s hand away.

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“I will go on my own. Don’t touch me.”

“…Yes, then please get in.”

To take her out in the open like this, it was obvious that they wouldn’t be able to kill her or do anything like that out of the blue. Azela frowned and climbed into the carriage on her own. As she climbed into the carriage, the door closed immediately, and the wheels of the carriage rolled toward the Imperial Palace.

* * *

The parlor where she was alone was quiet. It had already been over an hour since the Emperor had brought so many people to have her attend an urgent meeting and asked her to wait for a while. Looking at the clock on the wall, Azella thought she would wait five more minutes and that if the Emperor still didn’t come, she would go and come back later.

“Miss Vellista.”

However, the Emperor appeared to put that thought to shame.

Azela lifted herself from the sofa where she was sitting and gave a greeting as he motioned for her to sit down with a kind smile. The Emperor, who was sitting at the top table, glanced at the dessert that was left on the table.

“Do you not like sweets?”

“Yes?”

“Because you didn’t even touch the dessert. It was made by a famous patissier in the Imperial Palace.”

“Ah.”

She didn’t know what might be in the dessert. Azela, who swallowed the answer she couldn’t bear to speak, looked at the cold dessert and smiled.

“I am full.”

“I see.”

The Emperor nodded his head with a meaningful smile as if he understood her true intentions.

That it was not an excuse, and perhaps, to show off on purpose, the Emperor took the cooled dessert on his plate and ate it himself. He didn’t take his eyes off Azela while eating his dessert. That beast-like gaze seemed to be shouting, ‘Look, it’s not poisoned.’

“Calling me suddenly…”

As Azela asked in a trembling voice, the Emperor nodded his head before raising the cup and drinking tea leisurely.

“Miss Vellista seems impatient.”

“….”

“Can we have a drink and talk?”

He slowly savored the tea as if he hadn’t intended to hear her answer.

The leisurely action made Azela bite her lower lip and set her gaze on the dessert in front of her. Tick ​​tock, only the sound of the clock hands moving filled the living room. When her frustration lasted, the Emperor finally opened his mouth.

“Is Lord Ferial doing well?”

“…Yes.”

“Is he hurt?”

His gaze flashed.

Azela frowned at the way he spoke, as if he knew everything. The mention of an injury reminded her of Zagnac’s two palms that were bleeding, but she couldn’t tell that.

“Yes, he is fine.”

She smiled and answered the Emperor’s question calmly. He muttered a small ‘Then it’s a relief’ and drank the tea again.

“If you want to ask questions like that, it’s better to call the person in charge, Duke Ferial, rather than me…”

“The work?”

“Yes?”

“Is it bad to work under Lord Ferial? Be it pay or treatment.”

“…Yes, it’s fine. I am doing it with satisfaction.”

“Was there really an assassin?”

The question continued one-sidedly.

Azela, who was frantically answering questions flooding in like a tidal wave, paused at the last question. The Emperor’s face that asked if there were actual assassins had cooled down before she knew it.

Did she have to answer that there was?

She pursed her lips.

“Miss Vellista.”

“….”

“Was there really an assassin trying to kill Lord Ferial?”

He interrogated her as if urging a set answer, like trying to erase what he did. He was reaching out to her, asking her to stand by his side.

Azela raised her head with a smile.

“That’s right.”

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