Chapter 150: Bait and Switch
"This is final; you are going home with me, Beatrix."
The Count declared as he tightly grasped the arm of his chair, but before he could do anything, Vivian knew how to stop him from bossing everyone around.
"Lord Provost, if my memory serves me right, you owe me a big favour," she said very soundly, resting her back against her chair and squaring her shoulders with a big smile on her face.
"I am sorry, what?" Count Morgan, who was already leaning forward to stand, stared at her, brows furrowed, then a smirk twisted his lips as if he had tasted something sour.
"The Finals, my Lord,"
Vivian prompted him to remember, tilting her head in hopes of jogging his memory, but he seemed taken aback and unaware of what she meant, which made her go into details:
"Among most of the people out there, the faculty of the Royal Academy was desperately trying to make Prince Liam look good in front of all his subjects, which is admirable in my opinion. I remember that you took it to the point where you denied his protests to redo the traditional quiz debate between him and me, hoping that his first-place status would remain untouched."
As the echo of her words faded, the man’s frown eased, and he managed to return to his neutral poker face. He leaned back, the stuffing of the chair deflating softly under his weight, and a flicker of something unreadable—perhaps unease—darted across his eyes.
"That was not a favour, Vivian Moore. Your memory seems to betray you. All you did was withdraw," he said with a deep tone, making it clear that there were no favours between them.
"But it did save you some face and time. I cannot comment on the blunder that occurred later that night, but at least the gazette reported on how glorious our crown prince was during graduation, as he secured first place with a historical record at that time. Imagine if it were little old me on that front page. While I, Vivian Keone Moore, am a great beauty and my face would bless any front page, I am not as important as a scandal that could have made the pamphleteers go insane, only for the crown prince’s score to be the only thing in the world to cover it up," Vivian said with a wide smile, clasping her hands, and doing nothing but impose her own self-righteousness.