CHAPTER 142: THE WORLD’S FIRST FEMBOY

Once Edith left the place, she hurriedly caught up to Beatrix, who was on her way to her carriage.

"Beatrix! Wait! Listen... I wish to have a word."

Beatrix halted her steps as soon as Edith got close. She turned her head, which had black trails under her eyes, and a strange hint of madness was conveyed through her silent stare.

"Listen. I am sorry. I was the one who brought you to this lot against my better judgement," Edith said with sincere honesty.

Beatrix remained aloof despite the devastation that was clear on her face and only parted her lips to speak but eventually chose not to, letting Edith continue what she wanted to say.

"I hope that you stop using that curse against whoever that Bloody Swan is. It yielded no results other than your suffering. This shouldn’t have happened, and I promise you, I will..."

"People tend to break their promises, you know," Beatrix spoke with a hostile, hoarse, and harsh voice.

Her unsettling, unblinking eyes kept focused on Edith like an owl as she turned her body to face her in a motion just as creepy as an owl moving around with its head fixed in position.

"I know. And I don’t know how else to apologize other than doing so. Once young Lord Valentine said what he said that night, I realized that things went horribly wrong. I can’t believe young Lord Ronald and young Lord Ian let that happen..."

"Ian?" Just the mention of his name made Beatrix’s emotional spectrum flip on its head. "He’s upset with me, isn’t he? I... I ruined everything for him."

"What?!" Edith was taken aback by the sudden emotional shift and realized that logic would not apply with this particular woman. "You don’t have to care about what he thinks. He... all of them used you and caused you to suffer."

Beatrix’s expressions twitched as she stepped back and raised her hands before Edith could approach her. Suddenly, she became more emotional and smiled.

"It’s alright, you don’t have to..." She said and walked to her carriage, "I know that I RUINED IT ALL! I’ll fix it. I’ll do whatever, but I’ll fix it."

"Wait! You don’t have to."

Edith tried to persuade Beatrix to stop, but what she did caused anger to surge on Beatrix’s face.

"You don’t tell me what I have or don’t have to do. I said I’ll fix it... I’ll GODDAMN fix it!"

And she retreated to her carriage as the coachman cracked the whip for the horses to start moving with extra vigor.

Edith was left at a loss for words, unable to comprehend all that had just happened. She closed her eyes and let out a heavy breath before massaging her temples and trying not to lose more sanity or sense of herself.

Today was not an ordinary day, and it was not even afternoon yet. Everything that she had experienced in the past four hours, from having a pragmatic conversation with her father to figuring out the Swan’s true identity, was all enough to raise her stress level to the point where she was resisting the urge to scream to the sky and kick the ground.

"Well... that was intense." Isabella approached Edith from the direction of the manor, watching as Beatrix’s carriage sped through the main gate.

Edith turned to her with extra sharp eyes, trying to assess the kind of animal in human skin she was, but Isabella mistook the look for irritation.

"Maybe she’s going through her period. You won’t believe the monster I transform into. I just lock myself away for three days and nights and avoid people to not lose anyone I hold dear."

Isabella’s jester attitude fell on deaf ears, as Edith was not planning to listen to what that young woman was saying.

"Why did you do that to my brother?" Edith asked.

"Oh! So that’s what’s under your skin." Isabella returned a sharper look at Edith but soon dismissed it. "It’s history. Your brother invited trouble, and I just answered with open-mindedness."

"What do you mean?" Edith pressed further.

"Good grief!" Isabella rolled her eyes and rested her hands on her waist. "Listen, I wasn’t the best version of myself back then. Your brother started trouble with me, some sort of sick leverage thing you Blacks hold as tradition."

"Fabricating Leverage?" Edith asked with eyes wide.

"That’s the thing." Isabella pointed with a nod. "He started slandering me and spreading rumors, so I made sure that he learned his place."

"What did you do?" Edith asked.

"I forced him to join the Fashion Club."

"Why?"

Isabella felt a bit hesitant saying it out loud, since even she would admit that what she did to him was quite brutal.

"I may have dolled him up a bit."

"You what?"

"You know, something about the Aura Art you practice in your house that gives these thin shoulders and nice strong hips for movement efficiency." Isabella was somewhat embarrassed, but then she had to lay it out. "In my life of business, we hire girls with nice figures to wear the dresses we make. My first model was... Softy."

Eyes wide, mouth agape, Edith looked blankly at Isabella as she listened to those words.

"Makeup, dresses, catwalk, everything. So far, Softy may have been my most favorite model. Some of my best work was made on those petite perfect shoulders."

No matter what word Isabella uttered, it felt even more wild than the one before it, and Edith was almost blanking out.

"You... You effeminated my brother?"

"Effeminated? Such a strong word! I only..." Isabella tried to avoid such accusations but after a pause of reflection, she averted her eyes, raised her brows, and nodded, "Yes, I may have done so, but as I said, I am a different person now. I found love, and I don’t do such things anymore."

Seeing how proud Isabella was while declaring she was a changed woman, Edith almost lost her marbles and felt like she had no one she could trust anymore; Vivian is a killer, Isabella is a sadist, her brother is a corrupt fixer and maybe the world’s first femboy, and her father is a Machiavellian pragmatist.

"This is crazy! Everyone is crazy!"

As for Isabella, she was in the middle of discovering something new...

"Effeminated, huh? I like the word, but we need the right terminology here. Hmmm... Effeminated Edmond... Effemond? No! Effeminated Boy, does it sound better? Effemboy? Hmmm... How about Femmeboy? I like that! Femmeboy. No, no! Femboy would be more stylish. Yes! Much better!"

She hit her palm when realization struck and declared to the world:

"Let it be known that I, Isabella Catherine De Clare, have discovered the wonderful thing that is Femboys!"