Chapter 111 – Favor and Betrayal
“Sir Norton, nothing unusual, right?”
While the envoys were resting on the second-floor café terrace with drinks, I asked Norton, who stood beside me.
“…No problems.”
“What’s with the slow reply?”
Norton seemed oddly stiff today. His eyes were sharper, scanning the surroundings more than usual.
“Is this about the Marchioness?”
Ever since Janet had been imprisoned, the Marchioness had become extremely sensitive.
She remembered the old Annette, and the fact that I wasn’t trying to release Janet seemed to shock her deeply.
‘I have no intention of letting her out.’
Honestly, it was lucky I’d eaten the poisonous herb alone. If the whole delegation had fallen ill, who would have taken responsibility?
But the Marchioness, terrified of being implicated, complained to me several times a day.
I worried I might lose my sanity if I left her in her room all the time, so today I had brought both the Marchioness and Raphael along on this outing to the shopping district.
“No, it’s nothing,” Norton said, shaking his head.
Cecilia accompanied the Marchioness today. I felt bad, but Leta was still recovering, and I couldn’t risk sending just any maid in case of trouble.
‘Still, shouldn’t she at least care about her own son?’
While the Marchioness happily dragged Cecilia shopping, Raphael stood quietly beside me, spooning ice cream, as I guided the envoys.
“Raphael, aren’t you bored?”
I asked him, feeling guilty for making him sit when I had promised him something exciting.
“No. Listening to you is really fun, Sister.”
‘What could be fun about this? At your age, playing outside with those kids would be far more enjoyable.’
I glanced at the orphanage children playing ball down on the lakeside lawn.
“Raphael, how about joining them?”
“What? No way.”
He peeked outside, grimacing at the laughing, running children.
“They’re not even nobles. You want me to play ball with commoners?”
Good heavens…
I had been blinded by how cute my little brother was.
‘Oh right. He is still the Marquis’s youngest son.’
This arrogance was a perfect copy of our father.
“And they’re so much younger than me. How am I supposed to play with little kids?”
He pouted.
Little kids? If anything, Raphael looked smaller than some of them.
‘Well, at that age, even a year or two of difference feels huge…’
“Then don’t play with them—play for them.”
“For them?”
The idea made him hesitate. He stared at the children curiously. The ball game did look kind of fun.
After some nudging, he muttered about not knowing how to approach strangers, but finally shuffled down the terrace steps.
Leon quickly followed.
“I’ll go with him.”
“Thanks, Sir Leon.”
From the terrace, I watched Raphael say something to the kids. They shrugged, argued among themselves for a bit, then suddenly all ran toward the play area together with Raphael.
Seeing him included in their group and smiling, I let out a sigh of relief.
“We’re going to do archery now,” said a tall girl.
Raphael, who had nervously asked to join their ball game, flushed red with embarrassment.
The children showed no hesitation around him, a noble, which only made his shoulders slump a little.
‘Everyone here—knights or kids—are strange.’
He was about to leave when one boy suddenly tugged his sleeve.
“Want to… come with us?” the boy asked awkwardly, stumbling over his words.
“But it costs money,” another child muttered, rubbing his nose.
“Money? I don’t have any…”
“You idiot, just lend him a coupon!” the tall girl scolded.
Raphael looked confused.
“A coupon?”
“Her Grace gave us lots of them. With these, we can play for free!”
Realization dawned on Raphael’s face. These must be the play area tickets Annette had explained earlier.
A mischievous smile flickered across his pale face.
“So Her Grace is really kind, isn’t she?”
“Of course! We’ve even met her!” the girl said excitedly.
“Her hair is super soft, her eyes sparkle, and her face looks just like a goddess!”
“I like Her Grace the most,” Raphael said, joining in.
The children’s faces lit up instantly.
“You know her too?”
“She’s so kind!”
“She always treats us well.”
“She buys us gifts!”
Each child chimed in, praising the Grand Duchess like they were competing.
“She’s my favorite person in the whole world.”
“Mine too!”
Hearing this chorus, Raphael smiled and agreed, “Me too.”
The kids beamed.
“Come on, let’s go! We’ll lend you coupons!”
With that, they dragged him happily to the archery game.
Raphael’s precise shots amazed them.
“Wow! Another bullseye!”
Cheers erupted every time he hit the target.
By the end, every child had a prize ice cream in hand.
“You’re the best, my lord!” they shouted, grinning with thumbs up.
Raphael blushed, but inside he felt warmer.
‘Maybe I like the north more and more.’
“Head maid, that’s a fork…”
“What? Oh…”
Marzella set down the fork she had been dipping into her soup, flustered.
Only one maid was kind enough to point it out. The others ignored her, chatting among themselves.
She quickly picked up a spoon, trying to act calm.
Today was the day the envoys were visiting the lakeside market.
If the information guild had done their job, radicals would soon disrupt everything in front of the envoys and the crowd, denouncing the Grand Duchess.
She was desperate to know how things were unfolding, but she had no way of checking.
‘The castle is quiet… maybe not yet?’
Just in case, she had deliberately chosen to eat in the dining hall today. She needed witnesses for her alibi.
‘It’ll be fine. They’ll never trace it back to me.’
Even if the information guild was exposed, they didn’t know her true identity. All she had to do was stay calm.
She forced herself to relax and sipped her soup.
Step, step—
The heavy sound of armored boots echoed as Captain Tiern of the 9th Knights entered the dining hall.
“Where is the head maid?”
Marzella turned, eyes wide.
“Sir Tiern! What brings you here?”
Her voice feigned surprise, but his face was colder than ever.
Marzella felt her stomach drop.
The boy she had raised since childhood now looked at her like a stranger.
“Sir Tiern?” she called nervously.
His jaw tightened as he ordered, “Take the head maid to the dungeon.”
The soldiers behind him moved forward.
“Oh my!”
The maids gasped, backing away.
“W–wait! Sir Tiern! My lord!”
Marzella rose unsteadily, stumbling backward.
“What is happening?”
Her eyes pleaded ignorance, but Tiern’s voice shook slightly with anger.
“You truly don’t know why?”
“I have no idea! I’m innocent!”
Tiern pressed his lips together, swallowing his fury. Then he gestured, and a hooded man stepped forward.
“Is this the one?” he asked.
The man pulled back his hood. Marzella’s breath caught.
It was the receptionist from the information guild—the very one she had hired.
“Yes,” the man confirmed with a sly grin.
“She paid me the deposit directly and ordered the job.”
“You…!”
‘How—? Why is he here with Tiern?’
Marzella gaped, speechless.
Tiern’s voice was ice.
“Do you still need more proof?”
“….”
“Take her away.”
Lost for words, Marzella was seized by the soldiers and dragged out.
The maids around her watched with curiosity or smug delight.
Not a single one looked sorry for her.
