~Chapter 92~
Cooperation with the Enemy
“What…?”
Nora frowned, clearly not understanding what Eleanor had just said.
But Eleanor didn’t bother to explain. She coldly brushed past Nora and started heading down the stairs.
“Do you think we have time for explanations? Get up and help me. We have to move him before the servants show up after hearing all that noise.”
Although Damian had warned the staff to stay away, the noise had been too loud. Surely, one of the butlers would come soon. They had to act fast.
Damian, still unmoving, lay at the bottom of the stairs. Eleanor knelt beside him and noticed a clear bite mark on his hand.
She brought her hand close to his face to check if he was breathing.
A faint breath touched her fingers.
‘He’s alive.’
Damian was still breathing. Relief and joy washed over Eleanor like a wave.
Who would’ve thought she’d be this happy to know Damian wasn’t dead?
He had fallen hard on his back and neck, so he likely wouldn’t last long. But at least there was still a chance to finish her revenge.
With a faint smile, Eleanor spoke quickly.
“Remember that thug from the slums you were close to? Jasper. The one you used last time to take care of things.”
Nora, now standing, scowled. She’d expected Eleanor to dig into her background, but hearing it out loud made her uncomfortable.
“Contact him. I have a job for him.”
“Why should I?”
Nora crossed her arms tightly, trying to look confident and sneering as she spoke.
“You’re the one who pushed him. Why should I help cover for you?”
Eleanor had pushed Damian down the stairs. She should take responsibility for what happened. That’s what Nora believed.
Eleanor let out a short laugh, amused at Nora’s nerve.
“If that’s how you feel, shall we just wait here until the servants arrive?”
“……”
“The servants know Damian went to your room angry. They’ve probably guessed what he might do.”
She added coolly while lifting one of Damian’s limp arms.
His hand drooped, blood dripping from the bite wound between his thumb and index finger.
“And this bite mark? It’d make a perfect piece of evidence. Don’t you think?”
Who would they suspect the most? Eleanor leaned in and whispered:
“And you’re wrong if you think he’s dead. Unfortunately for you, he’s still breathing. For now.”
She shrugged casually.
Nora gritted her teeth, unable to argue.
The situation made her sick to her stomach, but she knew the truth — the only way to survive this was to cooperate with Eleanor.
“…What do you plan to do?”
Nora asked, her voice calmer now as she tried to keep her emotions in check.
“We need a believable culprit. Someone completely unrelated to the Astria family.”
Eleanor groaned as she began dragging Damian’s body up the stairs. Nora, thinking quickly, grabbed his other arm and helped.
‘A murderer, huh.’
That meant Eleanor planned to kill Damian soon, even if he was still alive now.
Nora was genuinely surprised. She’d always thought Eleanor was too soft to kill someone.
But her surprise was only at Eleanor’s change—not at the idea of killing. Nora herself didn’t feel guilty about ending someone’s life if it meant saving her own.
“You’re not planning to pin it on me, are you?”
“If that was my plan, I wouldn’t bother with all this. It would’ve been easier to just call the servants.”
Nora couldn’t argue with that and clamped her mouth shut.
It was humiliating to work with someone she hated. But no matter how much she thought about it, she couldn’t find another way out of this mess.
Eleanor ignored whatever face Nora was making and waved casually toward the end of the hallway.
Hilda and Ernst were rushing over to help Eleanor. Their loyalty was clear—unlike Nora’s maid or guard, who hadn’t even come to check on her despite all the noise.
“…Then what are you going to do about my bite mark?”
Nora’s voice dropped low and sharp the moment she spotted Ernst approaching.
“That’s simple,”
Eleanor replied with a sweet smile.
“We’ll just cover your bite mark… with a bigger, deeper one.”
***
Everything happened quickly after that.
Ernst carried Damian’s body—more dead than alive—into the carriage without letting anyone see. Hilda swiftly cleaned the bloodstains from the floor and stairs.
Though both looked visibly startled by Damian’s condition, they didn’t hesitate for even a second in carrying out Eleanor’s orders.
Just as they finished, the servants began to appear.
“W-what happened?”
Stanley, the butler who had earlier gone to ask Eleanor for help with Damian, looked wide-eyed as he asked.
Eleanor answered calmly.
“Thanks to your timely appearance, I managed to stop Damian. He had a minor clash with Nora, but once I stepped in, he left in a huff. Nora’s fine, so don’t worry.”
“Then… where did Master Damian go?”
“Who knows? He stormed out looking all worked up, so maybe he’s off to the entertainment district again. But why are you asking me? Don’t we have guards who should know when the young master leaves the house?”
“O-of course! I only asked in case you might’ve heard something, since the guards did report he left, but they didn’t know where he went. Sorry for disturbing you so late, my lady.”
Stanley scrambled to explain himself, clearly rattled.
Truthfully, the Astria estate’s security that night had been extremely slow. Even when Damian returned home, the guards had been dozing off. Stanley, as the head butler, had no excuse for not handling them properly.
If the duke found out, it’d be a disaster. Thinking quickly, Stanley lied and pretended the guards had seen Damian leave.
Afterward, Eleanor and Nora returned to their rooms, and Stanley went to ask the guards about Damian’s departure.
“I saw Coach Tobias driving a carriage out. I think Master Damian was inside.”
“Yes, me too. I thought, ‘Wow, he’s off to Salisbury again this late?’”
“But isn’t it weird? Which gate did he use? I never saw him come out…”
“Bah! You probably just missed it because you were dozing off!”
Stanley, who had been silently listening, exploded.
“Do you think the Duke will stay quiet if he hears you missed the young master coming and going because you were sleeping? Watch your mouth!”
“Y-yes, Mr. Stanley!”
The guard hadn’t been dozing, and he was clearly frustrated. But he knew it’d be trouble if word got to the Duke, so he just stayed quiet.
With the story of Damian’s “departure” successfully fabricated, Stanley breathed a sigh of relief.
It was unfortunate they hadn’t managed to keep Damian at the estate, but considering how angry he had been, the fact that nothing worse had happened was a huge relief.
“I can finally go to bed in peace.”
So thought Stanley, the proud butler of the Astria household—completely unaware that in just a few hours, horrific news would break.
***
Clunk. Rattle!
A small carriage came to a sudden stop on a quiet street.
Tobias, the coachman, stepped down and looked around cautiously.
He was in the most remote alley of Salisbury. Not a soul was around. The ground was damp from recent rain, and the air smelled faintly of wet earth.
A chill breeze brushed his neck, making him shiver. But then, as if defending himself, he clenched his jaw and opened the carriage door.
The black door swung open—and a body spilled out.
“Ah!”
Tobias instinctively caught the man and gasped. Then, without hesitation, he dumped him onto the wet street.
Thud!
The sound of a skull hitting stone echoed sharply. Tobias winced and shut his eyes.
He felt a brief sense of guilt—but it didn’t last. He remembered all the things Damian had done to him over the years. And so, he climbed back onto the carriage without so much as an apology.
“Hyah!”
With a cry and the crack of reins, the black carriage vanished into the night.
Once it was fully out of sight, someone slowly stepped out from behind a pile of trash in the alley.
Under the dim glow of a streetlamp, the face of a young man came into view—the same man who had lost his sister just months ago.
Milo stood in front of Damian’s limp body, staring down at the man who had killed his sister.
Damian’s face was smeared with blood and devoid of color. It was impossible to tell if he was alive or dead.
“A shame,” Milo thought.
He had hoped Damian would still be conscious. He wanted to see him cry, scream, and beg. He wanted to witness his pain.
But Milo also knew this opportunity was a rare one for someone like him—a mere commoner. He should just be grateful to the noble who gave him this chance. That was the proper attitude.
“So I’ll keep my promise too,” he thought, clenching his fist in his coat pocket.
And in that moment—just then—something unbelievable happened.
A miracle, for Milo. A miracle for a powerless man in lowly Salisbury.
The gods, who had ignored all his desperate prayers for revenge, had finally decided to answer.
“Ugh… uhh…”
Damian Astria opened his eyes.
His pale blue eyes, fluttering beneath trembling lids, gradually focused. Milo stared in surprise.
His enemy had regained consciousness.
Now it was time—to make him suffer.
Just like Lady Eleanor had promised—a pain worse than death.
