Poison Eve
Chapters-8

At the end of that exhausting day, Evelyn had decided on something.

After all the guests left, except Mrs. Morgenstein, who was in the guest bedroom, Evelyn called all of her female family members to gather in the sitting room.

Evelyn stood her back to the heating furnace, facing everyone, with her hands clasped behind her back. "There's something I want to tell you. Something personal."

"Yes, my boy?" Lady Catherine raised her chin.

Evelyn straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath. "I've decided to accept Mrs' invitation. Morgenstein to the capital. There is no need to protest" Evelyn exclaimed at them. "We all know something has to be done."

Aunt Madeleine frowned and threw an anxious look at Lady Catherine, then looked back at Evelyn. "What about your mourning, Dear?"

"I think in this. I'll understand" Evelyn said gently. He was worried. "As the new owner of this house, I must take action if I want to keep this place of our shelter. So, understand, I have to go to the capital to find a man established to be my husband, so there will be nothing more for all of us to worry about." Evelyn hurriedly finished her sentence amidst their voices all that was flabbergasted.

The three women looked at him in surprise.

"You're getting married!" cousin's choked.

"Oh, may you be blessed, my dear Evelyn. You're a brave girl!" aunt Madeleine whispered, rubbing her eyes with a handkerchief. "I was afraid that we would all be poor."

Evelyn looked at her mother to read her reaction.she waited anxiously, looking for something on that face.

Lady Catherine was silent for a long time. Then he put down his needle and embroidery frame. "Are you sure of your decision?"

Trying to brace herself for the task she was carrying, Evelyn gulped. "It."

Her mother's sapphire eyes narrowed full of sightseeing. "the whole? A husband must have certain expectations."

"Yes, I'm aware of that, ma'am. I'll be ready to face it."

"But... Mama! Aunt Catherine! Surely you guys won't let Evelyn do this!"

Suddenly his cousin, Nadine, exclaimed.

No one answered.

"I know we're poor, but you can't let Evelyn sell herself like an obscure woman! It's all terrible!"

"Gruesome?" Aunt Madeleine repeated her daughter's remark, furrowing an eyebrow.

"There must be another way!" Nadine insists. "I know!" Suddenly he said happily. "I can sell one of my novels!"

"No!" both older women at the same time.

"Oh, my God, you and your Gothic hororm story, you're going to worsen the honor of this family that's just a little bit of a bitch." Lady Catherine muttered while shuddering in disdain. "I don't want to hear that talk anymore. Noble women don't write novels."

"But I can publish it under a pseudonym..."

"But we can still tell if it's you, Nadine," Lady Catherine said, showing her the piles of pain she had been harboring. "Honor is honor. At least marriage is the last thing that is still respected as a job for a woman. You might try it if you hadn't wasted your youth on that useless piece of writing." Add her aunt while holding her breath.

Anxiety returned to Evelyn's face. That's mommy. Always feel right and speak directly to the point.

Very violent.

"Don't worry, Nad." Evelyn made a sound, trying to raise the spirit of her beautiful yet unfortunate cousin with a smile. "What I'm doing may be kind of horrible, but I don't mind," Evelyn lied, "In addition, our mother was right. It's the only road in the world."

"However, I, in one sense, never cared about the world at all." Rejoining after getting a bit of encouragement, Nadine got up, put the book she had on her lap to the side.

As she approached Evelyn, Nadine looked at her cousin's face, her brown eyes staring intently and seriously. Nadine's breath was coffee-flavored. "So, you really want to do it?" nadine asked in a mutter. "Even after...what happened? You're gonna save us from destruction by marrying a rich young man?"

Evelyn raised her chin high. "It's very rich."

"Alright, then, you better pick a stupid guy," Nadine suggested, "easier to lie."

Lady Catherine laughed bitterly. "They'll all be stupid when you're there, honey." Her bitter laughter reminded everyone in the room that Lady Catherine had never forgiven her husband for the man's departure to the battlefield to save their family's fortune. Not because she was a very devoted wife, but because her husband's death had made her never achieve the noble title she wanted when she married first.

If only her husband were still alive, Lady Catherine would have earned the title of Viscountess. However, all he had right now was the title he had obtained as a derivative of his father's peerage.

"True, Evelyn, you must listen to your cousin," Lady Catherine smirked in agreement. "Rich and stupid. The male criterion that all girls need."

"Right," Evelyn said it quietly, masking her anxiety. He tried to imitate his mother's cold attitude in the face of whatever fate would be his suratan in the capital later. He knew well this was his only chance to make up for his family's loss.

A rich and stupid husband.

After all, is there a smart guy who wants to be with her?

A servant interrupted them.

"Miss Evelyn, there's a guest looking for you!"

"My eyes?" he repeated uncertainly, looking at the female servant who was bowing before the door with her eyebrows intertwined. Really rare! thought.

His tense face turned into astonishment, then was surprised to see a bunch of Alamanda flowers in his servant's hand. Instantly his mind was immediately fixed on the porcelain-white taper-faced foreign man in the Cultural Hall.

"Yes, Miss. He said, he wants to talk to you." The waiter leaned deeper and deeper as he held out the flower in his hand to Evelyn. "The guest also brought this flower for you."

Definitely her! think Evelyn's blossoming. Then hurry to the living room. His heart was pounding as long as he walked through the long hallway towards the living room.

Once in the living room, his imagination instantly evaporated.

A bald, round-bodied man— older than his father, dressed in military with a four-star rank, smiled and greeted him from the guest chair. "Are you Evelyn?"

Evelyn froze in place. Of course, he said in his heart— berated himself. Why did that man come here? Not know either!

Beside him, a young man, roughly twenty-five years old, bowed at Evelyn with a flat-faced look, arguably just nodding. Her copper-blonde curly hair, draped over her wide shoulders, framed her face which looked like the carving of a maestro. Official suit that looks so glamorous. Smooth white taper face, reddish thin lips, perfect pointed nose, all make the man look beautiful like a woman.