Interest Compounds on Revenge (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 3

Terren watched Grace’s retreating back as she left after uttering harsh words.

Soon after, Luke let out a dry chuckle and spoke to Terren.

“Miss Grace seems to have changed her tactics.”

No matter how hard she tried to win the duke’s heart, his lack of response must have pushed her to take a more aggressive approach now.

“No.”

“Pardon?”

Luke looked at Terren in confusion, surprised by his firm denial.

It was the first time Terren had outright rejected his words so decisively.

In truth, Terren had initially thought the same. But Grace just now seemed like an entirely different person.

“Please be a little kinder to me, Your Grace.”

Luke now felt almost pity for that version of Grace.

Terren hadn’t always been this cold and indifferent.

Having lost his parents at a young age and shouldering the burden of his house, then further changed by the seven-year war with Wales—it was as if he’d become a completely different man.

He grew pessimistic about everything, strictly controlled his emotions, and erected walls so others couldn’t easily intrude into his world.

‘Grace speaking Landesian?’

Terren’s surprise wasn’t merely because she spoke a foreign language.

It was because her tone, behavior, and gaze all gave him an inexplicable feeling that she wasn’t the person he’d known before.

‘Could that damn bastard possibly be me?’

Terren smirked, lifting one corner of his mouth in a faint laugh.

“Your Grace, doesn’t it seem strange no matter how you look at it? Miss Grace read the newspaper, rushed out here in tears, spoke a foreign language, and then went back inside alone?”

Aside from running out in the rain, Luke couldn’t make sense of any of Grace’s actions today.

Moreover, even her tone of voice had been different.

[Luke, when will Terren be back? Grace feels so lonely.]

It used to be a sweet, gentle way of speaking—but just now, it had been chillingly sharp and rigid.

Part of him felt sorry for Grace, yet another woman suddenly came to Luke’s mind—someone he felt even more sorry for.

“Your Grace, what should we do with Lea Hamilton’s body? Should we hand it over to her fiancé in Galdensia?”

Terren had recently gone hunting and happened to witness Lea Hamilton’s accident, personally retrieving her body from the cliffside.

He couldn’t ignore an incident that occurred within his own territory.

“Where is the body now?”

“In the church. It’s already been thoroughly embalmed.”

“We must hold a funeral for her. It’s only human decency.”

Even if they sent the body back to her homeland, the Hamilton family had committed high treason—they’d likely just cremate it carelessly and scatter the ashes anywhere.

‘Richard Hamilton, involved in smuggling Papi flowers? Something feels off.’

Terren didn’t trust the newspaper report. The Hamilton Trading Company was one of the oldest and most renowned trading houses on the continent.

He knew they earned their wealth through fair trade and contributed greatly to society. Above all, he’d met Richard Hamilton in person when they were young.

It had been the day of an opera held exclusively for nobles and the upper class.

Around the opera house, children lined the streets selling flowers, matches, and tobacco.

Everyone ignored them, perhaps out of a sense of entitlement.

Except for one person—Richard Hamilton—who bought something from each child, one by one.

‘He didn’t seem like the type to do something like that. It just feels forced.’

[This is the timeline separator]

With Pauline’s help, Lea finished bathing and lay back down on the bed. During that time, countless thoughts raced through her mind.

‘Accept reality.’

Though it was the hardest thing to do, perhaps her soul flowing into another’s body was part of divine providence.

Her original self had always carried the blood of a shrewd merchant.

Because of that, even as Grace, she felt no urge to run crying to Allen over how love had changed.

Instead, her mind cleared, and reality came into sharp focus.

‘From now on, I must live as Grace Bizac.’

Objectively speaking, surviving in Galdensia under the name Hamilton would be nearly impossible.

She’d have to become someone else entirely to expose Allen’s vile schemes.

‘The Chief of Police is likely in on it too.’

They say hunters spend long hours patiently preparing to capture a beast.

Allen must have done the same—using her to steadily gather intelligence on the Hamiltons and recruiting allies to support him.

‘I never realized such burning ambition lay hidden behind that gentle face.’

Marrying into the Hamilton Trading Company probably wasn’t enough for him. What could his ultimate goal be?

‘Having amassed immense wealth, all that remains is honor and power. He wants to rise even higher.’

To stand against Allen, she absolutely needed the status of Lady Grace Bizac, daughter of Baron Bizac.

Lea rose from the bed and walked over to the dressing table. In the mirror, she gazed at the dazzling beauty staring back at her.

‘I don’t know how I ended up in your body, but once my business is done, I’ll return it to you.’

She didn’t know if that was even possible, but she was determined to keep that promise. She also made a vow.

‘I won’t do anything to tarnish Grace’s honor.’

Though this life had been thrust upon her against her will, she wanted to live it properly while it lasted.

Just then, Pauline returned, having gone to fetch a dry towel.

“Miss, I’ve brought you some new information about the duke’s schedule.”

Given how animated Pauline was, Lea guessed she usually reported every detail of Terren’s movements to Grace.

‘I’m not really interested.’

Seeing Lea’s indifferent expression, Pauline grew even more serious.

“You know that woman who died recently after falling off the cliff?”

Lea turned sharply away from the dressing table in surprise.

“The body?”

“I overheard that she was the only daughter of a very prominent trading house in Galdensia.”

“Where is the body now?”

“In the church. And apparently, the duke plans to hold a funeral and bury her in the churchyard.”

“When?”

“In three days. He also intends to contact her fiancé in Galdensia.”

Lea’s heart pounded rapidly.

Then the man she’d seen as her body lay dying must have been Terren—and he’d retrieved her remains.

Suddenly, it dawned on her.

‘Right—my necklace.’

She remembered the precious necklace her father had placed around her neck on her wedding day.

[Take it, Lea.] [Father! What is this…?]

It was an old brass key on a chain—a deeply meaningful heirloom to him.

Engraved on the key were the Hamilton Trading Company’s motto and a golden carriage. Terren must have recognized her identity from that necklace.

[It’s a gift from your father. I wanted to give you something truly meaningful.] [I can’t accept it. I know better than anyone what this necklace means—how could I possibly…] [Take it. There’s no one else I can give it to. I’m getting old. If anything happens to the company, you’ll need to handle it—and for that, you’ll need this key.]

‘Did Father foresee this tragedy?’

If so, she absolutely had to recover the necklace.

‘Ah, if only I’d known, I shouldn’t have been so rude to Duke Courtois.’

Lea sank into deep thought.

To attend her own funeral, she needed a reason convincing enough for Terren—and above all, she had to win his favor.

[This is the timeline separator]

Lea shook off her illness, rose, carefully applied makeup, and dressed properly.

At first, Pauline had applied such heavy makeup that Lea had to spend some time correcting it.

“Miss Grace—or rather, I—look better with lighter makeup, Pauline.”

Pauline looked puzzled at first, but once she redid Lea’s makeup and hairstyle as instructed, she clapped her hands together in realization and nodded.

“Oh my! That heavy makeup was ruining your features!”

She neatly combed and tied back her hair, chose the most modest dress available, and selected small, understated earrings and necklaces.

“Hurry, or you’ll be late for breakfast.”

“Okay.”

At least she still shared breakfast with Terren every morning—that was fortunate.

She needed to speak with him to bring up the funeral. Still, she wished she’d learned more about Grace before meeting Terren—it was a little disappointing.

‘I wonder if Miss Grace kept a diary.’

Lost in thought, she soon arrived at the dining room.

Lea put on her brightest expression and stepped inside.

“Good morning, Duke Courtois.”

She gave a slight curtsy toward Terren, seated at the head of the table.

“You seem in good spirits.”

“Thanks to your concern.”

Only now did Lea truly see Terren clearly.

His sculpted features, previously hidden beneath a gloomy expression, came into view. With his tall, broad-shouldered frame, he was the epitome of a coldly handsome nobleman.

In contrast, Allen was the kind of beautiful man whose creamy smile melted hearts.

‘How could I have ever fallen for that damn bastard…!’

Ashamed of even briefly thinking of Allen, Lea shook her head roughly. Anyway, she needed to apologize to Terren first.

“I was terribly rude the other day. I promise never to act so recklessly again.”

She apologized with utmost sincerity.

But Terren merely narrowed his eyes, studying her intently without replying—his sharp gaze seemed to pierce straight through her.

“Grace.”

After a long pause, Terren finally called her name.

“Yes, Your Grace?”

“That ‘damn bastard’ you called me in Landesian the other day—was that referring to me?”

“T-that couldn’t be! There’s a specific ‘damn bastard’—it’s definitely not Duke Courtois.”

At Lea’s reply, Terren covered his forehead with his hand and laughed out loud.

The servants attending the meal momentarily froze in place, clearly startled—they’d likely never seen the duke laugh before.

{When did you learn Landesian?}

Terren asked Lea in fluent Landesian.

‘When? I learned it when I was young.’

Lea was flustered. Truthfully, she’d studied many foreign languages since childhood and read every related book she could find.

Thanks to that, she spoke several languages well—but she had no idea when Grace had learned Landesian.

{I taught myself because I liked Landesian clothing. I wanted to order directly by letter.}

{Self-taught, just to order clothes by letter? Hm.}

Only then did Terren nod, seemingly satisfied.

Lea decided it was time to broach her main request with Terren.

“Duke Courtois, I heard you retrieved the body of Miss Lea Hamilton from Galdensia and plan to hold a funeral for her.”

“That’s correct.”

“May I attend as well?”

‘Now he’ll ask why I want to attend—and I’ve prepared my answer.’

Lea waited, ready with her reply. But no matter how long she waited, he never asked.

“Go ahead. With so few mourners expected, even one more would be welcome.”

“Th-thank you.”

Terren, who had granted her request so casually, tilted his head slightly at Grace’s grateful words.

Come to think of it—was Grace really the type to attend a stranger’s funeral? What connection could she possibly have with Lea Hamilton?

In fact, the moment Grace had entered the dining room, he’d felt it again—she wasn’t the Grace he’d known before.

It wasn’t just her changed appearance that led him to this conclusion. It was that same inexplicable feeling from the rainy day.

‘She doesn’t seem like the Grace Bizac I know.’

And he had solid proof for that conclusion.

The old Grace had been utterly preoccupied with him—her eyes always followed him during meals. But this Grace was indifferent.

‘She’s becoming more and more intriguing.’