"Oh my goodness."
The silence was broken slowly.
Several people's whispers could be heard. Their eyes glanced at Lara and they secretly gossiped among themselves.
"Just look at her shameless face, I'd be too embarrassed to even look at someone in the eye."
"If she was someone who cared about something like that, she wouldn't have kissed a slave there."
"Is she Young Lady Bailey? My friend said she's a really well-behaved model student. What made her do a 180?"
It was okay up to there. If Lara was in their position, she would also have said similar words. But the words that followed after that were very ridiculous.
"Did she sleep with him?"
"Of course, didn't you see that slave's face and body? I'm pretty sure she bought him so she can use him at night. Just look at her now, I bet she just enjoyed her sweet time with him."
"She must be out of her mind. Is she a beast or something?"
It was not bad. If their gazes were swords, then their tongues were birds. The criticisms and gossip about her will fly with their tongues and go everywhere in Hautean, rumors are bound to be exaggerated and overstated. If this happens a few more times, she'll be called an irredeemable brat.
Lara has already lived in the mouth of countless people in her past life. At that time, she was anxious and tired every day because of the obsession that she should not do anything that would get her on the wrong side of other people. She had to look like a perfect saintess, and that no one should know that she was a fake.
She could only have a kind face, say kind words, and do kind deeds. She could not even laugh to her heart's content, nor could she even express how much she hated someone. Even her breathing was an act.
Because she had to get compliments.
But when she faced the gossip that was pouring toward her head-on, it was not painful, nor did it make her feel distressed, it did not even make her tremble in fear.
It felt hollow.
"Milady."
Konny grabbed Lara's clothes and whispered to her to go faster. She seemed worried that Lara might be hurt.
"I'm fine."
She meant it when she said she was fine.
Lara turned around and looked at Konny once. She turned her head again and looked at the young noblewomen who were murmuring about her. She felt the need to pour fuel on the fire so they would spread the scandal about her with passion and sincerity.
"I don't care. They must be painfully jealous because I managed to buy the coolest slave in the arena. What can they do? They were the ones who had no eye for slaves. If they want to curse at me behind my back, let them do so."
"Pardon?"
"It's not like my slave will become ugly when they gossip. The more they do that, the more famous I will be."
Lara did not lower her voice. It looked like she was talking to Konny, but it was actually intended for them. If they had any sense, they would also realize that.
"They could not even say a word in front of me."
The young noblewomen who were whispering looked at Lara with a stiff face.
"If they're jealous, just say it to my face."
After saying her last words, Lara took a step toward the entrance. She looked like her mother, Isadora—looking chic and sharp. When she raised her chin and lowered her eyes, she looked like an arrogant cat or a fierce lynx.
A straight waist, a wide stride, and a relaxed smile around her mouth. Lara walked confidently through the crowd that was divided into two sides. This was a losing battle for the one who envied. In that sense, Lara was confident not to lose.
Her carriage had arrived.
It was not the carriage that Lara originally rode, but the one sent by her father. Marquess of Bailey sent knights on the carriage to watch his daughter, but in the eyes of other young noblewomen, it only seemed that a real knight came to pick up Lara because she was from a house of high status.
"Let's go."
Lara returned to Marquess of Bailey's manor with the frightened Konny.
4. The Fallen Angel
Contrary to what she was worried about, Marquess of Bailey was not so angry. He seemed to think that the portrait could be redrawn.
"I fired the painter. Throw away that vulgar dress, too. I have already called another painter and dress designer, so make sure you get up early tomorrow morning."
Lara did not answer him.
She was just sitting motionlessly and staring at her father's face.
"Don't ever go to the arena again. Once people start talking about it, it's only a matter of time before you lose the reputation that you have built so far. I'd rather you go to the reading club or embroidery club."
Lara still did not answer him.
Marquess of Bailey ought to be wondering about his daughter's attitude, which was not as obedient as usual, but he just kept on saying what he had to say.
"You have to be at the temple in the morning in three days. Prince Sidhar will be there. Wear a modest dress, cover your face with a veil, and pretend that you've been praying all night in front of the statue of God. I have bribed the priest there and he will get the story straight."
After coming back to the past and knowing everything, facing her father, Lara realized that he was such an incredible person. Not only did he dig up his preferences thoroughly so that his daughter would catch the Prince's eyes, but he also grasped the Prince's movements and followed him accordingly.
He even bribed a priest to lie with him.
"You're so diligent."
"What did you say?"
"Nothing."
Lara just nodded.
In the past, she would have been very happy and vowed to be a woman who suits Prince Sidhar's preference. But now she saw things that she did not see then, and that made her think a lot. Her father, Marquess of Bailey, had a very well-managed appearance that overshadowed the fact that he was middle-aged.
If it were not for his fancy, aristocratic look, people would think he was a saint somewhere. His face was so kind that anyone could show goodwill if he had only kept his mouth shut. But all that came out of his mouth was dirty and vulgar worlds.
What's more ridiculous, he was genuinely known as a man of good nature outside of the house.
"Do you get me?"
After conveying his instructions for a while, he fixed his eyes on Lara and asked. With extremely business-like eyes that showed no affection at all. He probably would have the same look when he treated the servants, butlers, or even the beast that he kept.
In the past, she used to mistake him for expressing interest and love whenever he supervised her each and every movement.
How foolish was she.
"Why aren't you answering?"
He asked.
Now he seemed to have noticed that Lara's atmosphere was a little different from usual. He frowned on his neatly trimmed eyebrows and crumpled his upper lip with a look of annoyance.
"Father."
Lara said.
"I don't want to get married to Prince Sidhar."
She said clearly.
Her father seemed to regard her deviation as more insignificant than the flapping of the wings of a fly. So, she decided to speak frankly.
"What do you mean?"
"I hate Prince Sidhar."
"Stop joking around, just a few days ago…"
"I didn't know him. I'd rather die than marry him. Dating a tramp and living on the street is probably better than getting married to him."
"Laviore."
"You also know that he is actually a terrible egoist and is human scum. Do you really intend to sell your daughter to such a man?"
Lara did not smile.
She was not even excited. She spoke calmly and firmly so that anyone could know that she meant what she said. But Marquess of Bailey did not listen to her. He just let out a short sigh, raised one hand, and waved it. It meant, go back to your room and stop bothering me.
"Stop acting childish."
Acting childish?
Rather, Lara laughed.
Father regarded my desperate confession as merely being childish?
"If you want to spout nonsense, go back to your room and write it in your diary. I thought you were all grown up, how can you say such thoughtless words… Do I look like I have a lot of free time in your eyes?"
"Nope."
You don't look like you have a lot of free time, but you also don't look like a father to me.
"Don't you be an ungrateful wench."
Marquess of Bailey lamented.
For the first time, Marquess of Bailey showed great fatigue. Lara realized that he did not say that to her, but to her mother who had left home. It must have hurt his pride, people must have been whispering about him a lot. The man whom Thousand Gold Isadora threw away as if she was dumping an old shoe.
It must have been for a similar reason that her mother left the house in broad daylight.
Still, Lara could not stand seeing her father talk about her mother like that. Lara rose from her seat. When she was about to tell her father not to talk about her mother recklessly, a careful knock could be heard.
Knock knock.
The close attendant of Marquess of Bailey came in.
"My Lord."
There was no need for a long explanation.
The hardened face of the attendant, the way he glanced at Lara while walking toward the Marquess, the shock buried in his glance—everything was telling one fact. The attendant knew about what happened in the arena. He was going to tell the Marquess about the fact that Lara kissed a slave. The scene passed by very slowly in Lara's eyes.
The attendant approached the Marquess and began his report politely. He tried hard not to use vulgar words, but he had no choice but to say the words 'kiss' or 'slave' if he were to tell the Marquess about the rumor going around.
Marquess of Bailey did not believe what the attendant had just said. So he asked him to repeat his report, and he had to hear the same thing twice.
His face, which was full of deep fatigue and a little displeasure, was distorted.
"…What?"
It was horrible and disgraceful. His red eyes convulsed.
Just like an amateur who could not control his anger and did not know what to do, Marquess of Bailey asked Lara with a cracked voice.
"What is he…"
"It's the truth."
"What?"
"It is the truth."
This was better.
Rather than being anxious and waiting for the moment his father knew about the truth, it was better for him to know about it all at once.
"I slept with the slave."
Lara proudly straightened her back and raised her head. She was far from the modest daughter that the Marquess had hoped for.
With a face asking what was wrong, Lara looked clearly at the Marquess of Bailey. She even smiled impudently.