Chapter 1200

The remaining men trembled, scrambling in panic. Hank, Rosalind's harasser, sobbed uncontrollably. Dragging his broken legs, he knelt, seemingly oblivious to the pain, repeatedly pleading with Carissa and Anthony. “I was wrong! I was greedy, but I’ll never do it again! Please spare me, my lord! I have an elderly, ill parent and a newborn daughter. What will happen to my family if I’m imprisoned?” His cries were piercing, filled with despair.

Anthony remained firm, ordering, “Take them away!” People with tragic backstories might commit terrible acts, but that was no excuse for breaking the law. Law enforcement officers saw such things often; the law was the law.

As the culprits were dragged away, a heavy silence fell over the academy. An oppressive stillness blanketed the room where the women gathered. Claire added coal to the brazier, but Rosalind’s trembling shoulders showed no sign of easing.

Present were Catherine, Harriet, Athena, Rosalind, and Carissa, the headmistress. Claire, acting as a temporary guard, stood near the door. Several older maids, servants, and the cook, who had been in the rear courtyard during the commotion, remained apart from the main group.

At Carissa’s instruction, Claire spoke to the staff, firmly instructing them to remain silent about the incident. Complete secrecy was impossible, but Carissa aimed to prevent unnecessary internal spread of the news.

Carissa took a deep breath, pulling herself from her guilt-ridden thoughts. Lingering in remorse wouldn't solve the immediate problems. The situation involved not only the academy but also the daughters of noble and official families; the academy owed them an explanation.

Rosalind, the victim, remained seated, determined to help devise a solution. Carissa’s initial plan was to send the others home while she consulted Jacob at her estate, seeking advice on navigating the fallout and minimizing damage to the academy's reputation. However, everyone insisted on staying, partly to comfort Rosalind and partly to help quell the inevitable rumors.

There was no need to guess the depth of Rosalind's hurt; everyone knew. By tomorrow, she would likely face endless gossip and cruel words. No one would care that she was a victim; the only topic would be the assault and its irreparable damage to her reputation. Whether this world consumed people generally was debatable, but it undeniably devoured women—a point no one would contest.

Rosalind said, “I didn't think much in the moment. The crowd was chaotic, and the servants who should have intervened hesitated, likely fearing repercussions for their families. They stood by and did nothing. Given the circumstances, I couldn’t let my students be dragged into this scandal. I’m the royal chancellor’s granddaughter, and I was assaulted; a few unkind words won't kill me. Please don't look so grim.”

She attempted to lighten the mood. “You’re all looking at me as if I’m on my deathbed, not just the subject of gossip.”

Tentative laughter filled the room, tinged with sadness. Their smiles were thin, their heartbreak unmistakable.

Carissa escorted Rosalind home, intending to report the matter personally to Trevor. By the time they reached Highstone Estate, the Young family residence, he had already heard. After listening, he laughed heartily. “My granddaughter is truly brave and resolute! She’s done exceptionally well!”

Carissa, expecting fury and heartbreak given his concern for reputation, planned to explain and apologize. He seemed unconcerned, almost indifferent.

For a moment, Carissa almost believed him. That was, until she noticed the subtle redness in his eyes as he looked at Rosalind. It was clear Trevor deeply cared for his granddaughter, and his apparent indifference was a mask.