The Price Is Your Everything - Chapter 35

As he ascended the stairs without hesitation, the soft giggle of a young girl reached his ears.

A smile formed on his lips. Moments later, a girl with dark brown hair, clad in white silk pajamas with a robe draped over her shoulders, appeared around the corner where the second-floor railing began.

Diane’s eyes met Nualan’s as he neared the top of the stairs. Seeing her startled expression, Nualan smiled reassuringly.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime, young lady?”

“What are you doing here?”

Diane quickly retorted, her tone slightly haughty. Nualan climbed the remaining steps in long strides and bent slightly in front of her.

“I came to make sure a certain grown-up lady wasn’t sneaking out of bed against her nanny’s instructions. That’s what big brothers do, isn’t it?”

“Eeeeh, even my brother doesn’t do that!”

“It was Joyce who sent me. If it were up to me, I’d spank you right now and tell you there’d be no snacks tomorrow—”

“Make up your mind! Are you treating me like a little kid or a grown-up lady?”

Diane pouted in frustration. Nualan smirked, bringing a finger to his lips.

“But I’m not such a strict person. If you really want, you can take a quick peek downstairs. But only for a moment, understood?”

Diane hesitated for a moment, but her attention was quickly drawn to the music drifting up from below. Some of the guests’ children seemed to be performing, showing off their musical talents.

Seeing the dazed expression on her face, Nualan chuckled and spread his arms.

“Want me to lift you up? You’ll get caught if you go down to the first floor, so let’s watch from here. I’ll hold you up so you can see better.”

His tone was that of a parent speaking to a six-year-old.

No twelve-year-old enjoyed being treated like a toddler, so Diane hesitated, glancing around uncertainly.

But Nualan had already read her expression. Without waiting for her answer, he scooped her up and carried her toward the railing.

At first, Diane clung tightly to Nualan’s neck, disoriented by the sudden change in height. But soon, her grip loosened.

Her gaze, fixated on the vast expanse of the first floor, became vacant as she watched the elaborately styled heads of guests occasionally passing through the grand hall below.

Eventually, her hand dropped limply at her side.

Now. Now was the moment to let go.

Just then—

“What are you doing, brother?”

—

Nerys did not miss the flicker of unease that crossed Nualan’s face.

Even the most shameless villains flinched when caught in the act, and that fleeting reaction turned all of Nerys’ suspicions into certainty.

Dressed in Diane’s childhood white silk pajamas and a purple robe adorned with golden embroidery—also once Diane’s—Nerys exuded the presence of a regal young princess.

Her poised smile was unreadable, like that of an experienced noble. Nualan blinked twice before regaining his usual carefree grin.

“I was just showing Diane the first floor.”

Too late, he realized.

The plan had changed too hastily.

When Heather claimed that a woman from Angelo’s trading company was working with Nerys to investigate the matter, Nualan had dismissed half of it as nonsense.

But it was true that one of Angelo’s employees had disappeared. Meanwhile, Muriel was parading her stupidity for all to see. So, cautious Shivna and his father had insisted they take action quickly.

The Count’s family—his uncle’s family—were all too kind. Diane was the sharpest among them, but she was still young and trusted her family without question.

Family?

What a joke.

His uncle was a count simply because he had been born first, and his children were nobles for the same reason.

But because his father was born later, he remained a knight. And so, Nualan and Muriel were not nobles.

By imperial law, the grandchildren of a titleholder retained noble status, but the titleholder’s nephews and nieces did not. With the passing of their grandfather, Nualan and Muriel had lost all the privileges they once enjoyed. And in such an unjust system, what did family ties even mean?

The law had robbed them, so he had no choice but to seek his own means of survival.

The idea of using Diane’s “condition” had come to him less than a year ago.

Shivna, struggling with his failing business division, had grown anxious. And Nualan had been increasingly irritated by Joyce’s growing influence in the MacKinnon trading company.

Then Angelo Railing had appeared before them, and what was once an ambiguous desire took on a clear form.

The Count, his wife, and Joyce were too established to be toppled. But they had one undeniable, glaring weakness—Diane.

The beloved youngest child, born late, doted on by the entire family.

The plan had always been to send the whole family abroad. Diane had been diagnosed as permanently disabled at a young age, but the Count’s family refused to accept it.

The moment they fabricated a doctor named Lemartre, the family had swallowed the lie without hesitation. Their blind optimism had been laughable.

Once they handed over the title and left for foreign lands, what happened to them afterward wouldn’t concern anyone in the empire.

Heather and Muriel had been tasked with making Diane despise this country and, more importantly, her own legs.

Muriel’s methods were clumsy—she was too obvious, constantly provoking fights. But Heather was far more skilled, weaving her words carefully.

It was disappointing that Diane had proven so stubborn, but in the end, her resistance wasn’t crucial.

What mattered was making the Count, his wife, and Joyce see that Diane could be hurt at any moment.

With Nerys now in the picture, they had come up with one final adjustment.

If Diane were to suffer a serious injury—and if they framed Nerys for it—

Of course, Diane would insist Nualan was the real culprit.

But the more extreme a child’s words, the less adults tended to believe them.

Especially if Heather stepped in to claim Diane was only trying to protect her friend. That would be the end of the story.

The Plan for tonight should have been set but the plan, which had originally been meant to unfold gradually, had been forced into motion too quickly due to the disappearance of Angelo’s employee.

But rather than risk getting caught, it might be better to act now—while there was someone else to take the fall.

And if Diane were to die?

That wouldn’t be so bad either. With the Count and Countess consumed by grief, it wouldn’t be difficult for the cunning and calculating Nualan MacKinnon to slowly wrest control of the trading company from them.

The unexpected element in all of this was Nerys appearing at the scene. Originally, the plan had been to make it look like Diane had been accidentally pushed off the balcony by a panicked friend who then fled in fear.

But that wasn’t an unsalvageable problem. In fact, it might even be an opportunity.

Nualan felt Diane tightening her grip around his neck, and an eerie smile twisted his lips. But then, he noticed Nerys still staring at him intently, and for the first time, an uncomfortable feeling crept up his spine.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“If I hadn’t come, you were planning to drop Diane, weren’t you? I didn’t think you were capable of stooping this low.”

He had been caught.

Nualan’s face hardened. Diane, rather than looking shocked, simply let out a sigh. His expression twisted even further.

“What? What nonsense are you spouting?”

“I’ve known for a while that you were waiting for a chance to hurt Diane. You were scared that Joan would report Angelo, ruining your entire plan. At first, you probably only meant to push her into leaving the country on her own. But now that things are urgent, you’ve thrown caution aside. I understand.”

As Nerys spoke, Nualan’s grip on Diane’s legs unconsciously tightened to the point of being crushing.

Diane wanted to scream from the pain, but she couldn’t. She gritted her teeth, her face turning pale.

A grown man’s full strength, completely devoid of care, bore down on a child’s fragile body. Dark bruises were already forming on her legs. Silent tears trickled down her cheeks.

Nerys’ gaze sharpened. Sensing the shift, Nualan began to push Diane toward the balcony’s edge. His face, distorted with malice and calculation, had never looked more repulsive.

“It’s too late.”

Nerys’ voice was cold and matter-of-fact.

Nualan glanced downward and his face twisted in frustration.

On the first floor, several servants were repositioning the tall sacred water basin. A few gift-wrapped boxes had also been moved near the base of a tree, likely for decorative purposes.

If he made even the slightest noise now, they would all look up.

Even if he remained silent, there were now too many potential witnesses.

“How…?”

How had she timed this so perfectly? How did she know such specific details about the plan?

He was too furious and bewildered to even finish his sentence, but Nerys simply smiled.

“You didn’t correct Diane’s formal speech earlier, and you were the one who pushed her down by the lake. It wasn’t difficult to put the pieces together. Unfortunately for you, I’m quite familiar with people who are desperate to make others question their own worth.”

—

– “Why are you even touching my things? Now they’re filthy, and I have to throw them away!”

– “You’re so stupid.”

– “This is bullying? No, I just can’t stand being in the same room as someone so disgusting. Why should I have to leave? You should just go kill yourself.”

Unrelenting, nauseating scorn.

A hatred for oneself so thick it stuck in the throat, never fading from memory.

Nerys smiled, but beneath it, something far more terrifying lurked.

Nualan had no way of knowing what was going through her mind, but something about her composed demeanor sent a chill down his spine.

Then, from below, a voice rang out—one that Nualan had absolutely no desire to hear at this moment.

“What are you two doing up there?”

Joyce.

Moving with effortless grace, he ascended the stairs without so much as a single creaking step.

Halfway up, his gaze fell on Diane’s tear-streaked face. His expression instantly darkened.

“Why are you crying, little one?”

Why?

Nualan couldn’t understand.

Joyce was supposed to be preoccupied with Angelo. He was supposed to arrive after Nualan had finished, act surprised, and gather witnesses. That had been the plan—his and Angelo’s plan.

The realization hit him like a stone sinking to the pit of his stomach.

He turned to look at Nerys.

His heart dropped.

“Uhh… Uuhh… Huaaahh…!”

Nerys let out a strangled sob and collapsed onto the floor.

Joyce’s pace quickened.

In an instant, he was in front of the balcony, reaching out for Diane.

With no other choice, Nualan handed her over, his grip reluctantly loosening.

Damn it. That meticulous bastard…

“What’s going on?”

Below, the murmuring of guests and servants grew louder.

Nualan gritted his teeth. This wasn’t the time to stew in frustration—he had to think.

His fingers felt ice-cold. Stay calm. No one would believe the truth if it sounded too absurd. He just had to twist the situation, just enough to make it seem like a misunderstanding—

“Shh, don’t cry, little one. I’m here. Hmm? Stop crying and tell me what happened.”

Diane couldn’t speak.

She was furious at herself for it, but she was terrified.

She knew that whatever she said now would change her family’s life forever.

Sensing her hesitation, Nualan even mustered a comforting smile.

Yes, just stay quiet. Let the adults assume it was just a childish squabble. If he could just get through tonight—

Nerys didn’t let the moment slip away.

She burst into louder sobs.

“Brother Nualan… He was trying to hit Diane… I tried to stop him…”

“What?”

A few of the guests on the first floor had started climbing the stairs, having overheard her.

Joyce turned to Nualan, his expression incredulous. Then he looked down at Diane’s face.

“Is that true, little one?”

“No!”

Nualan’s denial was swift and forceful.

But Diane—her face red and eyes filled with betrayal—looked up at him with resentment.

Joyce noticed.

He gently set Diane down.

And before anyone could intervene—before even Nualan himself could react—Joyce’s fist crashed into his face.