Please Lend Me 50 Million - Chapter 48

“I heard Count Bellstein is importing jewels with the Peliche Central Branch this time.”

“Count Bellstein’s sense is always reliable, so I wonder if we should invest in jewels even if it’s late.”

And Asha, who had been watching Beryl the entire time, could see it. Beryl Anderman, whose cheeks flushed red at the name Harriet and who blinked her dazed eyes twice.

It was a face fallen in love, clear enough for even someone ignorant of love to recognize instantly.

It was the moment Asha’s patience, which was already short, snapped.

“I’m not feeling well, so I’ll go rest for a moment.”

Asha, who requested a brief understanding from the ladies beside her, quickly headed toward a corner of the banquet hall. Using soft social language until the end was something her last shred of social ego had managed to do. After this task, her social ego vanished as if it had fulfilled its duty, and burning rage filled that spot instead.

Ack!

Aack!

She felt like she would feel better if she could just scream, but she couldn’t dare to do so in a place where imperial nobles were gathered. Asha, puffing out her chest as if swallowing a scream, snatched champagne from a passing servant. The way she snatched the glass was no different from a common thug. The servant, witnessing the refined noblewoman’s rough behavior, could not hide his shock.

If only she had provoked me one more time!

If she had acted just a bit more blatant, she could have made her get drenched in this champagne! Asha simply resented her socialized self, unlike her younger days when she would rush in regardless of the consequences. To consider justifications even while she was so angry her mind went blank—it was a giant leap in progress.

Eventually, Asha, unable to overcome her anger, tossed the champagne into her mouth, and those peeking at Asha were busy hiding their shock.

‘The Countess of Bellstein is gulping down alcohol!’

‘How can she drink champagne like she’s drinking water?’

‘It’s a scoop, a scoop!’

“Kyah!”

As the interest around her burned brighter, Asha’s gestures became bolder. Every time the stinging carbonation scratched her throat, she felt an illusion that her thick rage was becoming lighter. It was merely her nervous system, responding to a new stimulus, temporarily diverting its attention, but the short pleasure was truly addictive.

As if drawn in, Asha stood there and emptied five glasses of champagne in a row. Seeing her now, she wasn’t a drunkard, but a hippo drinking alcohol.

Asha intended to devour all six glasses on the tray, but her hand stopped at the urgent cry of a man who cut through the crowd.

“Anastasia!”

The one who called Asha like a fierce deity was, strangely, a man who looked exactly like Asha. There should be no one at this banquet who could treat the Countess of Bellstein so roughly, yet he naturally grabbed Asha’s shoulder and pulled her. That wasn’t all—he even drove Asha into a corner to avoid people’s eyes.

Shaking platinum blonde hair and furrowed light-blue eyes. A beautiful face that held every single characteristic of the North. This man with the elegant face had only one thing different from Asha, which was his towering height and frame. To put it another way, most other things were similar.

The identity of someone who looked this much like Asha was easily deduced.

“Aswan?”

Aswan Halswein, Asha’s one and only older brother and the Young Marquis of Halswein, frowned at Asha’s stupid sound. If he let it stay crumpled like that, it felt like his eyebrows would touch.

“How did you… get here….”

“I decided to partner with the Head of the Perso Trading Company this time. I came after receiving an official invitation, and it’s a regret to me as well that our paths crossed, so don’t misunderstand.”

Asha, who had strongly suspected Aswan of being a stalker, discarded that thought immediately at his firm denial. Indeed, their relationship wasn’t intimate enough for him to stalk her.

Tsk. Asha, feeling sheepish, stroked the nape of her neck, but Aswan’s brow remained furrowed as if his anger hadn’t subsided. Even so, he scolded Asha with a stern voice, being her brother.

“Don’t scratch your neck. I thought it would be fixed once you got married, but to think you’d be acting like a hooligan so proudly. In the middle of a banquet hall, you emptied five glasses of Peso champagne, which is famous for being strong? The nobles probably didn’t know you were human. If you gulp down alcohol like that, that’s a hippo, not a human.”

“Uuu…. Aswan, don’t nag too much. We’ve met for the first time in a while….”

Asha also knew that drinking repeatedly on the spot didn’t look good, so she showed a dejected appearance, unlike her usual self. Although she did take on a sulky tone as if she couldn’t lose a verbal argument with her brother.