Chaos Girl Rewrites the Script novel Chapter 377

"You are too kind, Miss Ravenshire."

Most of them didn't actually know her true identity, but seeing her act with such absolute authority while Victoria stood by helplessly, they assumed she was a direct heir.

Vivienne didn't bother correcting them. She turned to Cyril and clinked her glass against his. "Cheers."

She tipped her head back and drained the glass, her eyes narrowing slightly as she swallowed. The strawberry juice stained her lips a vibrant, glossy pink.

Cyril lowered his gaze and swallowed the rippling orange juice. The moment it hit his throat, a sharp, sweet-and-sour citrus flavor exploded on his tongue.

He hated sour things, and he wasn't fond of sweet things either. But somehow, that sharp mix of sweet and sour struck right at his senses.

*

The little incident was quickly glossed over, and the gala resumed its elegant, laughing facade. The only difference was that absolutely no one dared step within three feet of Cyril. As for Vivienne, wherever she walked, a five-foot radius cleared around her. Cyril was the only one allowed in that space.

Victoria stared at their retreating backs, one tall and one short, trembling with sheer rage.

Moira approached cautiously, lowering her voice. "Ma'am, Mr. Beaufort has arrived."

Victoria's expression shifted. "Where?"

"He was in the hall just a moment ago, but he's retired to his suite."

Victoria looked back toward Cyril in the crowd. After a moment of thought, her composure returned.

"Hmph. You think bringing a little lunatic along means I can't touch you? How incredibly naive. Let's go! Time to meet Mr. Beaufort."

*

"Ugh, why is this blueberry cake so tart? Victoria is so cheap. Couldn't she hire a decent pastry chef?"

Vivienne picked her way through the dessert table. After a few test bites, she refused to touch anything that wasn't strawberry-flavored.

Cyril scanned the room casually, just in time to spot Victoria and her assistant hurrying out of the hall.

"Cyril Bean, do you like sour things?"

Cyril withdrew his gaze. After a moment of silence, he looked down and asked, "Did you drink from that orange juice earlier?"

Vivienne's eyes widened. How had he guessed?

Experience from two lifetimes told her never to trust the drinks at a banquet. Since Victoria didn't dare cross her just yet, Vivienne figured anything given directly to her would be safe. So she deliberately took a sip of the orange juice in front of Moira, and when Moira didn't intervene, she swapped the safe drink for Cyril's wine.

Vivienne scowled, looking annoyed. "Boys shouldn't be too smart. Nobody likes a smartass."

Trying to pull a fast one on Cyril was impossible; he always turned it right back around. There was zero satisfaction in it.

"We share the glory, and we share the disgrace," Cyril said evenly. "You might let others bully me, but you will never allow anyone to step on me to humiliate the family. So, your protection has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with the Ravenshire name. Am I right?"

Vivienne glared at him. Yeah, he was right, but did he have to say it out loud?

Cyril gave a dry chuckle. "You're all exactly the same."

With that, he turned and walked out of the banquet hall.

Vivienne stared after him, utterly baffled. What the hell was his problem? He was perfectly fine smiling and calling that old bat 'Auntie' when she was forcing him to drink, but he gives her an attitude after she helped him?!

Cyril's face was ice cold, but the moment his foot cleared the hall entrance, the anger vanished completely.

He stood near the doors for a moment. Ultimately, he didn't look back, turning instead toward the lounge area in the outer hall.

...