CHAPTER 170: BLACK MARKET [2]

Alice fell silent, her lips pressed into a thin line.

For a moment, the only sound between them was the faint crackle of lanterns swaying in the evening breeze.

Seeing the shift in Alice’s mood, Amelia seized the opening. She had been waiting for this.

"By the way," she began lightly, as though it were idle gossip, "I heard Julies has been involved in several reckless incidents lately."

It wasn’t random. It was deliberate. This was her chance to link him to the same careless fools Alice so often scorned. If Alice began to see Julies as no different from them, then surely her attachment would fade.

’All I promised,’ Amelia thought, her smile curving sweetly, ’was not to drive him away with marriage schemes. But no one said I couldn’t poison the roots of her feelings.’

She tilted her head, pretending to muse aloud. "Come to think of it, his eagerness to take risks for gain... doesn’t it remind you of those who choose to live outside the city walls?"

"!"

The spark in Alice’s eyes made Amelia’s heart twist. Recognition, not doubt. Admiration.

Her breath hitched.

—Grind.

Hidden behind her soft smile, Amelia’s teeth pressed together until her jaw ached.

Instead of planting suspicion, she had only fed Alice’s fondness for him.

’Why?’ The thought clawed at her. ’What spell did he cast on you? You were always so cautious, so skeptical of people’s motives—and yet with him, your guard falls like glass. What did he do that I haven’t? What am I lacking?’

Amelia forced her lips to curve again, every word coated in sugar to disguise the bitterness burning her chest.

"I suppose," she said gently, "I should be glad my fiancé’s actions could be of some help to you, Alice."

But in her heart, the words festered. My fiancé. Hers. And yet Alice looked at him with a light Amelia had never seen turned her way.

Julies would vanish one day. Amelia clung to that thought like a lifeline. He was nothing more than a shadow who would exploit Alice’s heart before leaving her in the cold. But Amelia? She would remain. Always. When Alice’s world fell apart, it would be Amelia’s hand she held.

"Just... don’t put too much faith in him," Amelia murmured, unable to fully choke down her warning.

Alice blinked, tilting her head. "Hm? Amelia, what was that? Could you repeat it?"

"Ah—it’s nothing," Amelia said quickly, snapping her lips shut.

A bitter taste coated her tongue. She had meant to speak as a friend, but it had come out sounding like something else—something possessive, almost desperate.

It was ironic.

She had tried to wedge herself closer to Alice by dragging Julies down... yet all she could think about now was the unbearable thought of losing Alice’s gaze to him.

A sudden surge of guilt made Amelia’s chest tighten, burning like a brand she couldn’t extinguish.

She reached for the nearest cup, forcing down a gulp of cold drink to steady herself. The taste was sharp, but it did nothing to wash away the bitterness rising in her throat.

No... this is all for Alice. To stay by her side. To protect her.

If she kept her composure—if she held her tongue—then surely that demon would eventually slip, and Alice would see him for what he really was.

"Pfft!"

Amelia choked on her drink, coughing softly.

Alice immediately turned, worry flickering in her eyes. "Are you alright? You don’t look well. Maybe it’s better if we head back and rest."

"Oh, no, no!" Amelia waved her hand quickly, forcing a bright smile. "It’s you who must be tired, Alice. You’re not used to places like this, are you? Don’t worry, I just have a little errand to run. I’ll catch up in a moment."

Before Alice could protest, Amelia gently but firmly steered her toward the lodging set aside for nobles.

The moment Alice disappeared from sight, Amelia’s smile dissolved into something sharper.

Ah, the time I could have spent with her... alone.

What a shame. A painful loss. But this sacrifice was necessary.

Because if what she had glimpsed earlier was true, then she couldn’t ignore it.

The alliance—fragile as glass—had to be maintained until her ultimate goal was achieved.

Her steps quickened, heels clicking against the uneven cobbles as she made her way to the far corner of a tavern, where the air was thick with smoke and whispers.

And there, slouched in shadow, was a figure whose presence twisted the room like a dark thread. His form seemed to blur at the edges, shifting just enough to be unsettling, as if his very body rejected permanence.

There was no mistaking it.

Julies Evans.

Or rather, not Julies Evans. His true shape—the one whispered about in hushed voices. The Faceless Impostor.

Amelia’s eyes narrowed. She had heard he’d taken a week’s leave away from Alice. So why was he here, lurking like a viper in the dark?

Her voice cut through the tavern’s haze, low and sharp.

"What are you doing here?"

The shadow lifted his head, and for a fleeting moment, the dim lantern light caught a face that was not his own—someone else’s features, borrowed and worn like a mask.

Then it shifted again, settling into a faintly familiar shape, just enough to unsettle.

Julies smirked. "My, my. Lady Amelia herself. What an unexpected pleasure."

His tone was smooth, sly, and deliberate, as though every word were chosen to gnaw at her composure.

Amelia’s eyes sharpened. "I asked you a question. Why are you here?"

Julies leaned back lazily in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. "Does a man need permission to enjoy a drink? Or is it only me who must report every step I take?"

"Don’t toy with me," she snapped, her voice colder than she intended.

"Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it," he replied, lips curving into something between a grin and a sneer. "Though... you seem rather quick to find me. Almost as if you were looking for me."

Her heart lurched. Heat burned up her neck, but she forced her expression into ice. "Don’t flatter yourself."

Julies tilted his head, watching her with eyes that seemed to pierce through every defense she built. "Strange, then. You push Alice away to run straight into my arms."

The words dripped with mockery, but there was something heavier beneath them—something Amelia hated herself for noticing.