This Marriage Must End In Tragedy Chapter 13
13. The Center of Gossip
A soft snort of laughter broke the silence and echoed through the room.
Trish turned her head, stunned. Damion was chuckling in disbelief, as though the whole situation were ridiculous. After a moment, he composed himself and spoke calmly.
“My apologies. I was beginning to wonder if I’d walked into a theatre instead of a party tonight.”
Laughter erupted from the surrounding guests. Flustered, Trish opened and closed her mouth like a fish, then grabbed the arm of the nearest person as if to plead for support.
"It’s true! She used to work at our house as a maid—"
"Miss Ansi lived in an estate I own in the East. Not in the southern Ziden Viscounty."
The voice that cut her off was firm. The man’s face had grown cold, devoid of the laughter from moments ago.
The guest whose arm Trish had clung to quickly withdrew, not wanting to get involved. Her now-lost hand reached toward Ansi’s head.
"Even her hair is fake! She used to be a brunette!"
But before her hand could reach Ansi, the crowd intervened. The guests around them frowned.
"Even if you're desperate to bring Lady Rubelsa down, this is too much."
"Truly disgraceful..."
“Why don’t you stop already?”
What had once been amused curiosity in the eyes of the onlookers had shifted into discomfort. A chorus of tsk-tsk sounds clicked against her back.
Suddenly, Trish realized that the arrows of scorn that had been aimed at Ansi had now reversed course.
She was now the target, and they pierced hard.
"Why does everyone hate me so much?"
The capital was a terrifying place. Trish burst into tears.
With just a few glances exchanged, several attendants stepped forward to escort her out. Though the pretext was to get some air until she calmed down, everyone knew what it really was—an expulsion.
At that moment, the opening melody of the evening's first dance began to play. It was a deliberate attempt to reset the atmosphere in the ballroom.
Guests quickly sought out their partners and took their places. Damion and Ansi were no exception. After exchanging a polite bow, they joined hands and began to move in step with the music.
"I didn’t expect Lady Ziden to show up tonight," Ansi said softly as they danced.
"Neither did I," Damion replied lightly.
"For someone caught off guard, you lied quite convincingly. An estate in the East? That’s the first I’ve heard of it. Are you sure it’s right to deceive everyone like this?"
"In Belgader’s high society, no one cares what you are now—they care what you were. Even if you’re a newly minted noble, if you weren’t born one, you're scorned. And even if you come from noble blood, you're still scorned if your profession isn’t 'noble' enough."
Ansi twirled under Damion’s lead and returned to his gaze. He continued calmly.
"Retouching your past to return to society isn’t deception—it’s a necessary step. Didn’t you pretend not to know Lady Ziden for the same reason?"
But it left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Because she knew how it felt to be the one standing at the center of everyone's pointed stares. She knew the sting of being branded a liar by everyone.
A ridiculous thought flitted through her mind: What if Damion had invited Trish just to humiliate her? She dismissed the thought before it could take root.
"Thank you… for stepping in."
At her formal expression of gratitude, Damion's brow slightly furrowed. After a brief pause, he confessed quietly:
"To tell the truth… I’m not used to lying either. I’ve been trying to seem composed in front of you, but I’m not sure I’m pulling it off."
The chill in his earlier voice was gone. Was all that about contempt and pretense just a performance to appear unshaken?
"You're doing well," Ansi said. "Well enough to fool everyone."
Damion’s eyes softened into a languid curve. At last, he smiled as if relieved, gripping Ansi’s hand more firmly.
Ansi shook off her thoughts and focused on the dance.
Damion, meanwhile, allowed himself a faint smile of satisfaction as he saw her expression relax.
Everything was unfolding just as he had planned.
When he stayed at the Ziden estate in the South, Trish had mentioned that she would soon be moving to the capital.
That meant a confrontation between her and Ansi was inevitable—it was only a matter of time.
And if it were to happen somewhere beyond his sight, in a setting he couldn’t control, it would be far too dangerous.
That was why he invited Trish to this party.
And the woman had played her part far better than he had expected.
He had even planted traces proving that the mother and daughter once resided at an estate in the East.
"I heard the Orphe ducal family is very close. Do you dine together often?"
Ansi, seeming to let the earlier matter go, changed the subject with a casual question.
It wasn’t a particularly welcome one.
"Hard to say. I spent so many years at war, so it’s been quite a while since we did."
"Then… what do the Duke or the Young Duke enjoy? Do they have any particular interests?"
"Aren’t you curious about what I like?"
"And what do you like?"
Ansi froze, moving like a broken machine, and then promptly stepped on Damion’s foot. He grimaced at the pain, but the next moment, he burst out laughing.
"Sorry. I’m not very good at dancing."
"You didn’t do that on purpose?"
"You're imagining things."
“All right then. Everyone in House Orphe enjoys polo. Will that do for an answer?”
Damian’s voice was laced with amusement. Ansi nodded.
Following the rhythm of the dance, they briefly parted, then came back together.
"How do you get along with your brother?"
"You really are determined to interrogate me."
"I just want to know more about you."
"A typical sibling relationship—nothing special. And you, Ansi… may I ask about your brother?"
She didn’t enjoy reminiscing. Dredging up memories only made her feel vulnerable, like she might fall apart.
"If it’s difficult, you don’t have to answer."
Eventually, Ansi fell silent once more and asked nothing more about the Orphe family. The dance lasted a few more minutes and eventually came to an end. With practiced ease, Damion guided her hand to rest on his arm and led her away from the center of the ballroom.
Several young women cast glances in Ansi’s direction. Their hesitant steps—shuffling forward, then back—made it clear they were contemplating whether to speak to her.
Damion noticed and whispered to Ansi.
“If it were up to me, I’d keep you all to myself tonight. But for your sake, a little socializing would be wise. Go on.”
“Are you worried about me? That I’ll be left all alone?”
Damion grinned as though genuinely delighted. He nodded slightly toward a group of young men who had been watching from a distance.
He gently swept a lock of hair behind Ansi’s ear before stepping away. The affectionate gesture drew a mixture of sighs and awed gasps from the women who had been watching them.
And just as if they’d been waiting for their chance, they approached Ansi.
“Lady Rubelsa, it’s been so long!”
Ansi couldn’t help wondering—what could they possibly talk about? Would they bring up her father? Ask why she’d shown up here of all places?
But what they said took a completely different tone.
“We missed you so much, Ansi.”
“That’s right. We often wondered how you were doing. It’s so lovely to see you again.”
One of them looped her arm through Ansi’s affectionately. Another offered her a glass of champagne, while someone else held out a plate of desserts.
“You must’ve been shocked earlier by that girl from the South, right?”
Ansi replied quietly.
The warmth and friendliness of their behavior slowly wore down her guard. Perhaps, she thought, they hadn’t disliked her as much as she’d believed.
In a more relaxed mood, one of the women opened her mouth to speak again.
“So, um, about the Orph—”
A voice cut in before the woman could finish. It was Elise de Baelis, the host, now looking in their direction. Elise smiled brightly and called out the names one by one.
“Lady Henzie, Lady Maniron. I’d love to introduce you to some friends of mine over there. Will you come with me?”
With a cheerful laugh, Elise turned and began to walk away. The women followed her, leaving Ansi, who hadn’t been called, behind.
In the vast ballroom, Ansi was alone once more. Amid the boisterous chatter and happy laughter, she stood there silent, like someone who had forgotten how to speak.
It wasn’t a big deal.
She had expected this kind of evening when she chose to attend the party. Besides, she was never the type to enjoy mingling with people anyway.
It was just that, all of a sudden, the loneliness felt real. And if she stayed like this any longer, she worried that her unhappiness might become too obvious to hide.
She glanced at the untouched champagne in her hand, then quietly took a sip. Once she’d downed the entire glass, she made her way outside.
“Be honest, Damion. You’re not seriously involved with her, are you?”
A lowered voice reached Damion’s ears. The men around him sighed, as if they’d just released long-held tension. They hadn’t dared to ask outright, instead circling around the topic in endless chatter, until someone finally voiced the real question they’d all been holding back.
But Damion merely savored his wine, as calm as ever. The others, growing impatient, pressed on.
“Come on, it’s Rubelsa we’re talking about. Even if she did seduce you, you can’t just fall for that.”
“Seriously, what kind of spell did she cast on you? She might look stiff and cold, but maybe she turns wild in bed—”
Damion, who had been silent all this time, finally opened his mouth. He gave a faint smile as he spoke.
The lively chatter among the men was instantly silenced, as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over them. A graceful piano melody continued to play over the now-tense atmosphere.
“I was the one who begged her to date me. Miss Ansi tried to turn me down, but eventually gave in.”
“That’s right. Is there a problem with that?”