Chapter 166: Ankle Deep in Trouble

Chapter 166: Chapter 166: Ankle Deep in Trouble

Vaelen would accuse Elysia of being narrow-minded, of resenting another woman simply because she could not bear to share his favour.

Deborah, meanwhile, would continue to play the peacemaker, her kindness apparently extending even to the woman she claimed had hurt her.

The more generously Deborah forgave her, the more unreasonable Elysia appeared by comparison.

Then came the inevitable request.

Deborah would ask Elysia to fetch a physician, insisting that she did not wish to drag this matter any further.

If Elysia refused, she would appear ungrateful and cruel. If she agreed, Deborah would have successfully sent her away while remaining comfortably at Vaelen’s side.

And if Elysia protested or attempted to explain herself, Vaelen’s expression would turn cold.

"You caused this, and you won’t even call for a physician?"

There had been no room for Elysia to defend herself.

Every explanation sounded like an excuse.

Every objection like proof of her jealousy.

So Elysia would go, humiliated and furious, only to discover that bringing a physician over did not mean she was free.

"You think you can simply walk away? Stay."

She would be forced to remain, watching as Deborah leaned against him while he spoke to her with a tenderness Elysia had hoped would one day belong to her.

Sometimes, she would stand there for so long that her legs ached. Yet she would not dare leave again, knowing that Vaelen would only find another reason to reprimand her.

Each word, each gentle gesture, had cut deeper than the last.

Back then, Elysia had believed that if she endured enough, if she remained patient enough, Vaelen would eventually understand her.

She had mistaken her own suffering for devotion and his indifference for something she could change.

Now, she could see the pattern for what it had always been.

But those days were over.

Elysia was no longer the woman who could be cornered into silence and made to bear the consequences of someone else’s deceit.

And she certainly had no intention of playing along with Deborah’s familiar charade.

A flicker of satisfaction passed across Deborah’s face when Elysia stopped. She seemed to believe that she had finally managed to provoke her.

Elysia looked at her for a moment before asking, "Where are your attendants?"

Deborah’s expression remained pitiful.

"It’s His Highness’s engagement banquet. There are guests everywhere, and everyone is occupied." She lowered her gaze, her fingers still clinging to Vaelen’s sleeve. "I wouldn’t trouble you if I had another choice. Surely, you won’t refuse such a small favour?"

Elysia glanced around.

There was no attendant in sight. Neither Vaelen nor Deborah appeared to have anyone nearby, which made Deborah’s request seem all the more reasonable to an unsuspecting observer.

But Elysia knew better.

She nodded slowly.

"So you have no one with you."

Then she smiled.

It was a small, almost pleasant smile.

Nothing about it was openly threatening.

She might have been acknowledging an ordinary inconvenience, or even sympathising with Deborah’s predicament.

Yet the instant Deborah saw it, something tightened in her chest.

She knew that smile.

Long before the Hartwell family fell from grace, when Elysia had been the cherished daughter of her household, Deborah had often followed in her footsteps. She had seen that particular expression countless times.

Whenever Elysia smiled like that, someone was about to regret something.

A memory she had buried for years suddenly came back to her.

She had been nine when a boy from a neighbouring household began finding excuses to approach her whenever she was alone. He would touch her in ways that made her uncomfortable, then placate her with sweets—treats her own parents rarely bought for her.

The sweets had seemed like a kindness at first. When she tried to pull away, however, he would remind her that they would stop coming if she told anyone.

So Deborah had kept quiet.

She had convinced herself that it was easier that way. She could endure the unpleasant moments and still receive the things she liked. As long as she said nothing, perhaps he would eventually grow bored and leave her alone.

Until Elysia noticed the marks near her collar and refused to let the matter rest.

Deborah had tried to dismiss her questions at first, but Elysia had persisted until the truth came out. And once she understood what had happened, she had not wasted a moment.

The moment she learned the full story, Elysia had gone straight to the boy’s household. She had worn that very smile before arranging for him to be beaten so thoroughly that he remained in bed for half a month.

People had said he was never quite the same afterwards.

Deborah had never forgotten it.

At the time, she had been frightened by Elysia’s decisiveness, but she had also felt a strange sense of relief. Elysia had not blamed her for keeping quiet or accused her of inviting the boy’s behaviour. She had simply dealt with the person responsible.

That was what made the smile so unsettling now.

Deborah’s heart began to pound.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

She opened her mouth, but before she could utter a word, Elysia lifted her foot and kicked her squarely in the ankle.

Deborah stared at her in disbelief.

For a heartbeat, she seemed unable to comprehend what had happened. Then the pain registered, and she let out a shriek.

"Your Grace! I’m already injured! Why would you do that?"

Tears gathered in her eyes as she turned towards Vaelen, her expression wounded beyond words.

"Please don’t be angry with her, Your Highness. This must be my fault. If hurting me makes Her Grace feel better, then I suppose I deserve it."

Even now, she could not resist the familiar performance. She made herself sound forgiving, as though Elysia had committed some terrible offence and Deborah were nobly choosing not to retaliate.

Elysia gave a cold laugh.

"That’s interesting."

Deborah faltered.

"You twisted your left ankle when you fell. I kicked your right one. Why, then, are you crying as though I struck the same injury?"

For a moment, Deborah had no answer.

Her eyes darted between Elysia and Vaelen. She had not expected Elysia to act so directly, much less point out the discrepancy before she could turn the situation to her advantage.

"I—I did twist my left ankle," she stammered. "But Your Grace kicked me so hard that my right ankle hurts as well."

"So hard?"

Elysia raised a brow.

Before Deborah could retreat behind another tearful protest, Elysia stepped forward and kicked her right ankle again.

This time, she put her full strength into it.

Her knee had finally stopped aching, and she could put considerably more force behind the blow than she had been able to manage earlier.

She had no intention of giving Deborah another opportunity to pretend that a barely felt tap had left her grievously injured.

Deborah froze for half a heartbeat.

Then she screamed.

The tears that spilled down her cheeks this time were genuine. She clutched her ankle, her face contorting with pain as she struggled to catch her breath.

Elysia looked down at her without the slightest hint of remorse.

There. Now Deborah had a real reason to cry.

Vaelen stared at Elysia.

His brows drew together, but the corner of his mouth betrayed the faintest upward twitch before he suppressed it.

"What exactly are you doing?"

Somewhere beneath his irritation, a satisfying thought took shape.

She still cares.

Why else would Elysia lose her temper over Deborah? Why else would she react so fiercely when he showed concern for another woman?

He had been trying to draw a reaction from her moments ago, and now she had finally shown her true colours.

I was right all along.

Her congratulations had been nothing more than a pretence.

The thought of him marrying Deborah had angered her more than she wished to admit.

The possibility was absurdly satisfying.

Still, he could hardly let Elysia kick his fiancée without saying something.

He straightened, his expression turning stern.

"You’re always picking on Deborah. Can you truly not tolerate her?"

"Not just her," Elysia replied evenly.

Her gaze shifted from Deborah to him.

"I can’t tolerate you, either."

Before Vaelen could make sense of her answer, Elysia swung her leg and kicked him squarely in the knee.

The blow landed harder than either of the kicks she had given Deborah.

Vaelen staggered, his expression transforming from indignation to sheer disbelief.

"Elysia!"

She lowered her foot and regarded him coolly.

The pain she had once endured for him had been far worse than this. In her previous life, she had suffered for his sake, and nearly ruined her own knee trying to protect him from harm.

And it had not earned her even the smallest measure of gratitude.

Instead, he continued appearing before her, provoking her with questions he had no right to ask and behaving as though she owed him some explanation for the life she had chosen.

What did he expect her to do? Stand quietly while he found new ways to make her uncomfortable?

Perhaps, in the past, she had been forced to swallow every insult because she had no one to turn to.

But things were different now.

She had a husband who stood firmly on her side.

She had a place of her own, a title no one could casually strip from her, and no reason to endure Vaelen’s nonsense merely to spare his pride.