How to Escape from My Possessive Fiancé - Chapter 49

Thanks to Michelle lending me clothes, Sophia went to the Count’s city mansion, hired servants, and managed most of the refunds safely. The servants looked at Sophia like they really didn’t understand why a maid to a princess had to do such chores. But when Sophia said, “The Princess thought it would be good experience for me,” they reluctantly nodded as if trying to accept it.

Over three days, she refunded purchases at more than thirty stores.

To be honest, Sophia was nearly exhausted. What was hardest was sneaking money to the shopkeepers, whispering, “If anyone asks why I came like this, tell them I came alone, in black clothes, without anyone,” and convincing them to stay silent.

Each of them would ask, “Why?” or laugh, “Oh, miss, don’t mess with me,” and she had to repeat herself. But Sophia, with unyielding determination, simply offered more money, sometimes mixed in with firm orders or compliments, until they agreed.

The refund mission was going well, almost done until the very last shop. One of the servants with her whispered that someone might be following them. Sophia, guessing it might be one of the Princess’s spies, quickly told the servants to go back.

“Excuse me? But we still have one store left, miss.”

“It’s okay. I’ll go alone.”

“Alone? That’s not right.”

“This place is nearby. You’ve all done well. Go back quickly. They said someone from the palace will come soon.”

After being pushed repeatedly, the servants reluctantly agreed, especially after hearing someone would come from the palace, and returned to the mansion.

That was a mistake.

After checking Sophia’s Count’s seal several times and still doubting she was a noble daughter, the last shopkeeper sent a thug to get back the money Sophia had given him.

When Sophia called a carriage to return to the palace, a man suddenly approached close behind, pressed something blunt to her waist, and whispered:

“Walk slowly and turn right.”

At that moment, Sophia didn’t believe him and tried to push him away. But he grabbed her chin, twisted her arm behind her back, and she heard a ripping sound; her skin crawled.

It wasn’t blunt at all. It was a hidden dagger wrapped in newspaper.

She felt the sharp blade pressing against the edge of her petticoat. Her hands shook as she forced out a voice:

“What do you want?”

“I told you. Turn right slowly. If you scream, I’ll stab.”

She couldn’t do anything but comply. The thug’s presence and the blade against her were overwhelming. She had lost once already when she pushed him, her arm was grabbed, so running was impossible. If she tried, he might grab her hair and slit her chest open.

Her legs trembled and cold sweat dripped as she obeyed. To reassure herself, she thought he just wanted money, and once she gave it, everything would be over.

But when he led her into a dark alley, all her naive hopes collapsed.

“Take it off.”

“What?”

“I said, take it off.”

He smelled of filth, like he lived on the street. His face came close with a sneer. Sophia took a step back, but the walls were already behind her.

“Wasn’t it money you wanted?”

“Right. The boss told me to get back the money you gave.”

Sophia guessed easily who “the boss” was the last shopkeeper.

“But why?”

“Because it would be a shame to kill a noble without enjoying her. Better to see how she tastes.”

“Kill? If you assault and kill a noble… you’ll be executed. Hung in the square and your lineage destroyed.”

“The noble act, huh?”

He sneered, pointing at her dress. She looked down to see the torn black garment and red embroidery.

“Look at you, pretending to be noble. Your future is predictable even without me. Now take it off. I’ll be quick.”

His grin sent chills. Sophia screamed:

“Take off what? I’d rather bite my tongue and die than let someone like you touch me!”

“What?”

“Stab me then! I won’t give money to scum like you!”

She raised the purse to throw it, but he quickly twisted her wrist and grabbed her throat.

“You really are crazy.”

His stench hit her as he covered her mouth and nose. Sophia gasped, tears streaming as she thought she would die. Her hair was pulled; pain cut through her like roots breaking from her scalp.

‘It’s so unfair to die like this.’

While she thought this, she heard a thud and the thug’s grip loosened.

“Ugh… what…”

From his groan, another man must have appeared. Sophia quickly smoothed her clothes and recovered the purse. A man with a large sword was beating the thug. The attacker’s arm snapped with a crack, then his leg was kicked out, leaving him helplessly broken.

“Arrgh!”

The attacker’s scream stunned Sophia’s ears. The rescuer then struck the thug’s neck until he passed out.

“Are you all right?”

The man approached politely. His voice was pleasant, and his features handsome. As Sophia smoothed her clothes, she realized:

‘Ah. This is someone safe.’

She sniffled and wiped away tears. He offered a handkerchief, but she shook her head and asked:

“Excuse me, my clothes are torn. Could I have a bit of your clothes?”

“Hm?”

“You know… clothes,” she pointed at the hood he wore. He was taken aback and covered his face, as if to hide it.

Sophia thought he must be someone not wanting his face known.

“If you don’t want your face seen, it’s fine. I’ll just buy something nearby.”

“No, it’s not that I look awful. Let me take it off for you. One moment.”

He put down his sword, removed the black hood, and gave it to Sophia. He had said he looked terrible. But when she saw his face, she was amazed. His white hair gleamed on his shoulders, and his handsome face looked more suited to books than a sword. While he was fighting, she didn’t expect this.

Dazed, she cleared her throat and accepted the hood. Noticing her gaze, he blushed and said:

“Sorry for showing you such a horrible face. I hope you’ll see a better one someday.”

Sophia found his embarrassment oddly amusing and didn’t pay attention to his “someday.”

What is he embarrassed about?

“I look much worse right now.”

“Oh! You do, since you were in rough shape. Oh! Your cheek.”

He reached for her cheek. Sophia blushed and touched it gently.

“Better?”

But one gentle touch couldn’t fix her tangled hair, smeared makeup, or torn clothes. He watched her and then said:

“That won’t do. You look like you could die better than being killed.”

He said it so calmly that Sophia didn’t understand at first.

“Excuse me?”

As she asked, he drew his sword and, without hesitation, struck the thug’s thigh.

“Argh!”

Sophia screamed and stepped back, covering her eyes as the thug, writhing in pain, grasped his leg and gasped. Sophia yelled:

“What are you doing?!”

“Ah, I’m sorry. This might look messy, but I have to do it. I’ll take him to be handled quietly.”

“Handled quietly? What are you talking about?! He’s a witness!”

“Hm?”

“You and the shopkeeper both should be thrown in jail!”

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