The Evil Ladies Form An Alliance

CHAPTER 15: On The Villianess's Shadows

Valerie finally finished the letter to Ashton. She had poured every ounce of her heart into it, her thoughts and emotions spilling onto the paper like a flood she could no longer contain. By the time she sealed the envelope, the sun had long disappeared below the horizon, leaving her room bathed in the soft glow of moonlight. She hadn’t eaten since after having breakfast, her entire day consumed by the effort of writing.

Outside her door, Emma paced anxiously. The maid had been fretting all day, worried about her lady’s unusual silence. When the door finally creaked open, Emma froze, her heart leaping.

“My lady!”

Valerie stepped out, her face glowing with a mix of exhaustion and pride. In her hands, she held a crimson envelope, raising it triumphantly with both hands.

“Emma!” she exclaimed, her smile bright despite her tired eyes. “I’ve done it. Finally!”

Emma’s worry melted away, replaced by a warm, genuine smile. “You worked so hard, my lady. Truly.”

“Yes,” Valerie replied with a little laugh. But as quickly as her joy came, it faded, replaced by a look of uncertainty. She stared down at the red envelope in her hands, her fingers trembling slightly. “But… what if he doesn’t accept it?” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “What if the Marquess refuses to read it?” Tears brimmed in her eyes, but she stubbornly blinked them away.

Emma stepped closer, gently resting a hand on her lady’s shoulder. “My lady,” she said softly, her tone soothing. “The Marquess will be overjoyed. I’m certain your letter will give him the strength to face even the fiercest monsters.”

Valerie’s lips curved into a small, grateful smile, though the sadness lingered in her eyes. “Thank you, Emma,” she said quietly.

But Emma wasn’t finished. With a knowing smile, she added, “My lady, you may not have noticed, but the Marquess has always had his eyes on you.”

Valerie blinked, startled. “What are you talking about?”

Emma giggled, a playful light in her eyes. “Oh, he’s subtle about it, of course. But whenever you host a tea party, he ensures everything is perfect. He oversees the arrangements from afar, making sure nothing disturbs you. Even when you don’t see him, the Marquess is always looking out for you.”

Valerie’s expression wavered, a pang of disbelief crossing her face. “Emma,” she said softly, her voice tinged with sorrow. “You don’t have to make up stories just to make me feel better. I know the truth. The Marquess probably resents me more than anyone.”

Emma shook her head, her tone resolute. “No, my lady. I mean every word. If the Marquess resented you, why would he care so much about the events you host? Why would he bother ensuring your happiness, even in his absence?”

Valerie looked away, her fingers tightening on the envelope. “It’s not because of the Duke’s influence or obligation.”

Emma continued firmly. “It’s because the Marquess truly cares for you. He always has, my lady.”

Valerie’s breath hitched at Emma’s words. They struck her with the force of something utterly unexpected.

“Could it be true?”

The question lingered in Valerie’s mind, an echo that refused to fade. Her thoughts churned, tangled in memories she didn’t want to confront. Valerie Hawthorne had resented Ashtone Henstone with every fiber of her being, and she had never hidden it, not in her sharp words, not in her cruel actions. Even in the otome game, there had been no hint of Ashtone harboring feelings for Valerie. He had always been kind, a noble soul who never complained, even when Valerie had gone out of her way to make his life difficult.

Her teeth grazed her lower lip as she struggled to contain the wave of emotions rising within her. Tears blurred her vision, and she blinked furiously, but the haunting image refused to fade.

The once-unshakable warrior of the empire, the beacon of hope and strength, reduced to a broken shell. She remembered how his vibrant spirit had dimmed to nothing after Valerie abandoned him for the prince of a neighboring kingdom. The rumors had spread quickly, each word like a dagger.

“A living corpse.”

That was how they described him. His once unshakable resolve shattered, his eyes void of life. All because Valerie had left him without a second thought, leaving his heart crushed under the weight of betrayal.

“My lady,” Emma spoke gently, her tone laced with concern. She brushed away Valerie’s tears with delicate fingers, trying to soothe her anxiety. “You’ll have the chance to mend your relationship once the Marquess returns. Trust yourself.”

Valerie inhaled deeply, forcing a shaky smile. “Thank you, Emma. Thank you for believing in me.”

Emma returned the smile with a confident nod. “There’s no time for tears now, my lady. The messenger will leave as soon as the letters are collected. You must hurry.”

The reminder hit Valerie like a jolt. Her composure shattered as she bolted toward the door, clutching her letter tightly.

“My lady!” Emma called after her, rushing to keep up. “You shouldn’t run in the hallways!”

“I need to find Alex Owell immediately!” Valerie shouted over her shoulder.

“He’s outside, my lady! Waiting for the messenger to arrive.”

Without missing a beat, Valerie flew down the stairs, her bare feet pattering against the polished floor. She didn’t care about appearances, not now, not when her sincerity was on the line. By the time she burst through the door into the courtyard, her disheveled state was painfully obvious. Her hair clung to her damp forehead, her cheeks flushed, her dress slightly askew.

Alex Owell stood by the supply carriage, supervising the knights as they secured the goods for delivery. He glanced at her arrival with his usual stoic demeanor, unfazed by her panting or the beads of sweat rolling down her temples.

Valerie, however, was seething inside. "He didn’t wait for me? He knew I was writing this letter!" She wanted to punch him, to let her frustration spill over, but she clenched her fists tightly. This wasn’t the time for Valerie Hawthorne’s temper to take control. She’d vowed to change that part of herself.

“What do you need, my lady?” Alex asked coolly, his eyes flicking briefly at her haggard appearance before returning to the knights at work.

“I… the letter…” Valerie struggled to catch her breath, holding out the crimson envelope. “Here… it’s for the Marquess…”

Alex raised a skeptical brow, hesitating before taking the letter. “I thought you were bluffing, my lady.”

Her lips twitched in annoyance, but she forced herself to stay calm. “Bluffing? I told you I’d write to him, didn’t I?”

“Indeed,” he said, his voice colder than the evening air. “But I didn’t expect you to follow through.”

Valerie clenched her jaw but managed a tight-lipped smile. “Perhaps you should take my words more seriously from now on.”

Before Alex could respond, Emma came rushing into the courtyard, slightly out of breath and holding Valerie’s shoes. “My lady!” she exclaimed, bending over to catch her breath. “Please, wear these. You shouldn’t be running around barefoot.”

“Thank you, Emma,” Valerie said softly, slipping on the shoes without complaint.

Alex blinked, startled. "She thanked her?" The Valerie Hawthorne he knew never uttered words of gratitude, much less to her maid. His surprise flickered across his usually impassive face, though he quickly masked it.

“My lady,” Emma continued, fussing over Valerie. “You must wipe your sweat. You look exhausted.”

“I’m fine,” Valerie said, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her.

As she adjusted herself, Valerie couldn’t help but notice the odd silence in the courtyard. The knights, who had been loading the carriage, were now glancing at her and Alex, their expressions ranging from bewilderment to thinly veiled suspicion. Their eyes seemed to ask a thousand unspoken questions.