Lady Class - Chapter 45

“Rackley Winner! What on earth have you been learning all this time? Even if Vanessa was unwell, how could she have neglected your upbringing like this…? Truly disgraceful!”

Count Winner’s face turned red with rage as he shouted, slamming his palm against the desk.

“Your mother came back home in tears! She said Rowinda was humiliated at the gathering, and you just stood by and did nothing!”

“Father, please listen to me—”

“What excuse are you trying to make now?!”

Count Winner didn’t even bother to ask what had actually happened at the gathering.

“If Vanessa had been humiliated like that, would you have just watched? Rowinda is your mother now—she is family!”

The truth was, Rowinda had been the one siding with the noblewomen and attacking Rackley. But to Count Winner, anything Rackley said would be dismissed as mere excuses. He wasn’t even willing to listen.

“I’m disappointed in you, Rackley. You only continue to let me down.”

Count Winner clicked his tongue.

His words struck her harder than any physical punishment ever could.

“I thought you were at least trying your best, but I clearly didn’t know you at all. I never believed those disgraceful rumors about you before, but now… perhaps they were true.”

“Father—”

“You’re fortunate that the Solomon family has agreed to take you in. You understand how many contracts we have tied to them, don’t you? If you bring shame to the Winner family or if they cast you out—consider yourself disowned. Now return to your room and reflect on your actions!”

Rackley was expelled from the study. Count Winner’s shouting had been so loud that, even as she walked through the now-silent corridor, her ears still rang.

She had always known what she meant to her father. She had already given up on the hope of being loved by him and had tried to let go of him first. Yet, he kept stabbing her in her weakest places, and the pain of it kept piling up.

“Sister.”

Edward Winner called out to her in a subdued voice. The apologetic look on his face only made Rackley feel even more wretched.

Holding herself together, she barely made it to her room.

The moment she arrived, she collapsed onto her bed.

Tears streamed down, soaking the sheets.

She thought she had been fine. She had convinced herself that she could endure anything, no matter what was said to her. But it was too much.

That night, Rackley fell ill.

The relentless series of events had finally caught up to her, and her already fragile body could take no more. She collapsed under the weight of it all.

***

Because of Count Winner’s orders, the servants merely placed meals on the table and left, unaware of Rackley’s condition.

Meanwhile, invitations from the Solomon family for banquets and gatherings continued to arrive. But Rackley, too unwell to even leave her bed, declined them all. For once, she was grateful that her body refused to cooperate.

Only when she finally recovered enough to wear a simple indoor dress did she receive a visitor.

“My lady, Lady Irina Solomon is here to see you.”

Led by the maid, Irina entered the room. She slowly looked around, taking in the new surroundings, before letting her sharp gaze sweep over Rackley from head to toe.

Her already stern features were even colder than before.

“Rackley, you kept declining invitations, saying you were unwell, so I came to check on you.”

“Irina, I’m sorry I couldn’t get up to see you. I’m still not feeling well.”

Irina walked to the small table by the window and sat across from Rackley.

Rackley was genuinely pleased by her visit. Despite Irina’s occasional cruel behavior, she had come to check on her when no one else seemed to care.

It reassured Rackley—she was still a friend.

Yes, Irina sometimes belittled her, played pranks on her with other noblewomen, but deep down, Rackley had always believed that Irina was kind at heart.

Rackley was about to apologize for any misunderstandings, to express her gratitude—

“When did you start going so far just to avoid my mother? Were you so desperate to run away that you pretended to be sick?”

“…What?”

Irina crossed her arms and stared at Rackley coldly.

“The Solomon family has done more than enough for you. Even with those filthy rumors following you, my brother still agreed to an engagement to save you.”

“Irina, those rumors aren’t true. You know that.”

“You mean it’s not true that you spent time with a gigolo at the villa?”

Rackley froze.

“T-that’s… Irina, you arranged the Lady’s Class for me. You said all the young ladies were taking it…”

“What? When did I ever do that?”

Irina widened her eyes, feigning surprise.

“Did you see anyone else taking those classes?”

‘What is she saying?’

Rackley distinctly remembered other noblewomen discussing it.

Seeing her stunned expression, Irina smirked.

“And you didn’t even stay at the original villa. You went somewhere else entirely. So technically, I never arranged anything for you. Admit it—you spent time doing indecent things with some man, a stranger you don’t even know.”

Irina looked delighted as she sneered. She enjoyed watching Rackley break, savoring the pain on her face.

Hot tears streamed down Rackley’s cheeks, the shock rendering her speechless.

“If you really didn’t want it, you wouldn’t have done something like that with a gigolo, would you?”

“Irina…”

“Did you really think I would keep wagging my tail just because you said a few words? Wake up, Rackley. If I so much as open my mouth to the other noblewomen, not only will your engagement be over, but your entire life will spiral into ruin.”

Rackley couldn’t understand it. She had thought they were friends.

Sure, there had been moments of discomfort, times when their personalities clashed. But Irina had helped her socialize with other noblewomen, and Rackley had sent her gifts in return.

Because she was grateful.

Because she truly considered Irina a friend.

“I heard that even the Count is terribly disappointed in you. He said that if you’re cast aside from your engagement, you’ll be expelled from the family. He even asked my father to properly educate you from now on. He doesn’t consider you a Winner anymore.”

“Ugh…”

Rackley’s vision blurred with tears.

“Do you still not understand your situation? Poor Rackley, you’ve been abandoned by your father.”

What had she done so wrong for all of this to happen?

Everyone around her seemed so eager to tear her apart, sharpening their knives to attack.

Rackley sobbed, unable to even lift her hand to wipe her tears.

“Why… What did I ever do to you?” she whispered.

“Nothing.”

Irina smirked.

“Your very existence is just irritating.”

The satisfaction was overwhelming.

She no longer needed to wear a mask.

She didn’t need to act anymore. She didn’t have to pretend to be nice to Rackley just because her father had ordered it.

“My father always praised you. Every time you weren’t around, I had to listen to endless comparisons. Lady Winner is mature enough to manage an estate—why aren’t you? The Count’s daughter handles official documents, yet you can’t even write properly? Every. Single. Time! No matter what I did, I was always being compared to you! And then, even Sir Daniel Holton—!”

Rackley looked up at her, tears spilling down her face, the sheer despair in her expression unmistakable.

Irina felt laughter bubbling up from within.

“Rackley, how does it feel to disappoint your father? I wanted you to know how I felt. Do you finally understand how miserable I was?”

She had waited for this moment.

All those thoughtful little gifts Rackley had given her, saying thank you so earnestly—how utterly pathetic it had been. The gifts were always cheap, worthless things, yet Rackley had truly believed they would make Irina happy.

Even though Irina had lived a better, richer life, she had always felt like she was losing to Rackley.

But now—now she had won.

“If you do exactly as I say, I’ll keep your dirty little secret about what you did at the villa.”

Irina reached out and gently wiped Rackley’s tear-soaked cheek.

“Come on now, let’s get ready, Rackley.”

After lightly patting Rackley’s cheek, she straightened her back.

“Tonight, we’re attending a masquerade ball. I’ll introduce you to my real friends. I’ll make sure you look absolutely stunning, so look forward to it. It’ll be a night you’ll never forget.”

Irina turned toward the wardrobe and glanced back at Rackley, her smile bright.

“You still have that black dress my brother sent, don’t you? Wear that tonight, Rackley.”

***

The carriage carrying Rackley and Irina arrived at a mansion on the outskirts of the capital, where the masquerade ball was being held.

It was a gathering where people met secret lovers under the guise of anonymity, but even with masks, everyone knew exactly who was who.

The masks were nothing more than a flimsy illusion.

Wearing her mask, Rackley was dragged into the ballroom by Irina.

Here, even women smoked openly. Some barely covered their chests, their corsets revealing their legs entirely, as they perched on men’s laps, laughing loudly. Some exchanged clandestine glances before locking lips, and then turned their heads to kiss someone else in the same breath.

Rackley froze, overwhelmed by a world she had never even imagined. When she saw two men standing close by sharing a deep kiss, she involuntarily let out a small gasp—“Hiiik.” Irina burst into laughter at her reaction.

A masked man approached Irina. Without hesitation, he kissed her deeply, their tongues entwining. The sight of such an intimate act unfolding right before her eyes made Rackley quickly turn her head away.

“You’re late,” the man murmured.

“Hmm, I had to bring a new member,” Irina replied.

“Ah, the one from the rumors?”

They exchanged knowing looks before turning their gazes toward Rackley.

Rumors. She didn’t have to ask what kind.

“She’s already spoken for. Don’t get any ideas,” Irina said.

“That only makes it more tempting,” the man smirked.

“I’ll come find you soon. Wait for me.”

After sending the man off, Irina turned to head further inside, but Rackley grabbed her arm. She pulled Irina toward a quiet corner, away from listening ears.

“What?” Irina asked, irritated.

“How dare you blackmail me like that?” Rackley hissed. “You’re here, doing these things with men who aren’t your fiancé—yet you threatened me?”

“Then go ahead, spread rumors about me,” Irina said nonchalantly.

Rackley was stunned by how casually she said it.

“I’ll spread rumors about you too.”

Her eyes gleamed with cunning beneath her mask.

“Who do you think would be at a disadvantage?” she taunted. “Everyone here belongs to the same world. I know who sleeps with whom, and they know who I enjoy. No one wants to get entangled, so they’ll all take my side. But you? Even your own father doesn’t believe you. Who would possibly stand up for you? Hmm? Rackley?”

Rackley had thought she had hit rock bottom—but there was an even deeper abyss beneath her.

A darkness with no end, pulling her further down.

“No one believes you.”

And she couldn’t deny it.

Rackley fell into that pitch-black void, with no light to guide her.