TVOWW 54

Chapter 54

I Want to Be Friends

The mark of Libertan vanished in an instant—

as if what he had just seen had been nothing more than an illusion.

But Johan wasn’t the kind of man to mistake such a thing.

“I didn’t see it on Estelle, though.”

That unpleasant woman who claimed to be a saintess had indeed borne the mark of Libertan’s protection.

“Could this really be a coincidence?”

Stella gathered up the hem of her dress and rose carefully. With an innocent face, the saintess looked at Johan nervously.

“I tried wiping it with a handkerchief as best I could, but I couldn’t get rid of all the moisture.”

They were even closer now—
so close that they might have brushed against each other, even embraced by accident.

But Stella’s clear blue eyes held nothing but pure innocence, as if she truly knew nothing.

“That stench…”

The closer Johan stood to Stella, the stronger he smelled that indescribable, revolting odor.

“Estelle always smelled… good.”

“…If it’s all right with you, I can prepare a similar dress next time—”

Just as Stella’s delicate hand was about to touch Johan’s shoulder,
he brushed past her without a word.

Now wasn’t the time to linger on that woman.

The mark of Libertan’s protection.
Only one person could have received it, though Estelle did not possess it.

Yes, Estella Libertan—
the woman who had originally been Johan’s target for vengeance.

“But Estella Libertan died from an incurable illness.”

And more than anything, Stella’s face looked nothing like Estella’s.

“Could she be some blood relative of the Libertans I never knew of?”

If she had been under the church’s protection, perhaps he had simply failed to discover her.

“I need to confirm this.”

Johan immediately made his way to the imperial palace’s underground prison.

There, awaiting their execution, were the Duke and Duchess of Libertan.

Their appearance after relentless torture was ghastly.

“Wake them.”

The jailer poured cold water on the couple and left.

“…Estelle? At last, you’ve come to save us—”

The two looked dazed, as if still wandering in a dream.

“Get a hold of yourselves.”

Crossing one leg over the other, Johan sat elegantly in his chair and asked coldly:

“Why would my wife ever bother to visit you?”

“…Duke Blanchet?”

“There’s something I want to ask.”

At that, the Libertan couple cried out in terror.

“W-we already told you everything we know! We admitted to the treason, didn’t we?”

They had falsely confessed to treason.

Johan looked down at them with a chilling gaze.

“Where’s your daughter?”

Daughter.

Rosaria gasped, eyes brimming with grief.

“…We don’t know.”

“Don’t even think about lying.”

Johan’s crimson eyes glowed as he warned them.

“Don’t think being near death makes you safe.”

“I really don’t know… I…”

As Rosaria began to sob, Demian coughed blood and shouted hoarsely:

“She’s dead! If you’re hoping to find her body to defile it, forget it. The temple took her and cremated her. She’s resting in a place you’ll never be able to profane!”

A strange gleam passed through Johan’s red eyes.

“The temple… took her?”

He rose slowly to his feet and stepped closer.

“You sound very certain. Almost as though you saw it with your own eyes.”

“Yes! I saw it myself. That poor child… until she turned to ashes and was sent off with the temple’s purification rite.”

The purification rite was the highest form of funeral, guiding the soul directly into the presence of the gods.

Johan seized on the flaw in his words.

“Then you didn’t actually witness it up close, did you?”

Even parents were not permitted to watch the rite closely.

“…So what? My angelic daughter went to heaven. That’s all that matters…”

“But, dear…”

Rosaria, swaying weakly, pressed a hand to her temple as if in pain.

“Did our child truly die? Then why…”

“What are you talking about? Pull yourself together!”

“No… it can’t be. After the funeral, I kept seeing Estella… as if she had returned, alive.”

Rosaria muttered to herself, eyes fixed on the floor.

“As if she had come back, alive, and embraced us… but I suppose that was only a delusion.”

“Stop saying that nonsense!”

“She thought Estella came back alive?”

Johan did not miss that tiny clue.

“Speak properly. What exactly do you mean?”

He grabbed Rosaria, searching her face.

“No… she’s dead, she really is. I—I was just… delirious with grief over losing my child…”

Her gaze grew glassy, just like the Libertan vassal’s had, not long ago.

“For the last time… please. I beg you.”

Rosaria clutched Johan desperately.

“Let me see Estelle, just once. Before I’m executed… I just want to see her face again.”

“…Strange. And yet…”

Demian, gently restraining Rosaria, murmured:

“Let us apologize to her one last time. I don’t know why, but… I feel like I must.”

Johan thought them bizarre.

“At first I thought it was just grief over their child. But their words… almost as if their minds keep switching back and forth, like they’re two different people.”

“No. You won’t be seeing my woman.”

The couple’s faces crumbled.

Johan looked down at them with a calm, almost mocking smile.

“You were quick enough to sell your daughter’s life to save your own. And now you want to play the role of grieving parents?”

“…”

“Don’t debase yourselves any further.”

***

In the Duchess’s office—

“We’ve organized the letters that show interest in Madam here.”

Patricia, with her refined face, sorted through the correspondence.

“But these particular ones… the insults are too severe for me to handle on my own.”

Her expression was so grave that I felt curious.

“How bad could they be?”

Most were couched in polite words, but the meaning was clear enough.

[Your adoptive parents are about to be executed, yet you carry on without a care?]
[That fake has become a traitor’s daughter. Surely she won’t dare show her face in society?]
[If that imposter tries to attend social gatherings, invite her to our house. We’ll remind her of her place.]

Nothing I hadn’t heard before.

“So the Libertan execution is soon, then.”

Though they had tormented me endlessly, hearing of my parents’ impending deaths left me feeling… strange.

“Not that it’s something I should be dwelling on.”

I smiled wryly and looked through another batch of letters.

[What do you think of the relationship between you and the crown prince? Was there really something between you?]
[Is it true you orchestrated the downfall of Count Hettel’s family?]
[I heard you used to chase after the Chancellor when you were with the Hettels. Do you plan to cling to him again…?]

Honestly, every time I stepped outside, new rumors sprouted.

[There are victims who were bullied by that fake, yet she hasn’t even apologized. Don’t let her into society. Surely you, Lady Gilite, know what morality is.]

“Victims of my bullying?”

I couldn’t help laughing at such absurd claims.

“They’re really having fun with this.”

I had barely ever appeared in public while with the Libertans, yet apparently victims of my so-called bullying were popping up everywhere.

“That wicked girl stole my dress!”

“She ignored me, even though I greeted her first, acting like she was a true duchess’s daughter!”

When I’d first heard such stories from the Libertan duchess—

“What kind of reputation management lets rumors like these spread? I can’t even go out because of you!”

Honestly, it was unfair.

I hadn’t even been present, yet people used my name for every vile deed.

“If only you behaved better. Why else would people talk like this?”

The duchess herself had little influence in society, and as a debutante I had no power at all.

The scandal with the crown prince, followed by rejection, had only made things worse.

“Getting to this point is almost impressive.”

I shook my head, while Betty bit her lip as she glanced at the letters.

“These are all lies. Madam never did such things…”

“Hettel’s downfall was the Chancellor’s doing, so at least that part will be cleared up.”

Though of course suspicions would linger, thanks to my tarnished reputation.

“Betty, you know well—without a powerful noblewoman to stand up for me, clearing this up will be difficult.”

“That’s true.” Patricia spoke expressionlessly.

“In that case, I’ll record all these names in the blacklist. Madam will soon be a figure of renown in society.”

“Me? Wait… did you just say blacklist?”

“It’s a necessary tool for sweeping aside those who are of no consequence.” Patricia’s voice was utterly firm.

“Besides, Madam—you will become the most dazzling lady of society. I guarantee it.”

“…On what grounds?”

“Because you don’t let false rumors sway you, but calmly assess the situation. No matter the truth, people will always gossip. Yet you endure.”

“But rumors can bury a person entirely.”

“A lady as remarkable as you will surely turn this crisis into an opportunity.”

The sheer conviction in her voice left me bewildered.

“Did she undergo some kind of moral training while I was in seclusion? Patricia, you were supposed to be one of my tormentors in the original story…”

She had once schemed to ostracize me from the Blanchet household and take the role of mistress for herself.

“But I haven’t even debuted in society yet. Will I really get a chance?”

“That’s why I prepared this.”

Patricia, precise as ever, handed me an envelope.

“An invitation to the merchant-lord’s banquet of the United Kingdoms. It was sent to House Blanchet, so naturally you may attend.”

The United Kingdoms—
an alliance of realms gathered around the coastal kingdom of Royum.

“With their rich trade and resources, even the Empire can’t ignore them.”

Especially Royum itself, regarded as vital by the Empire.

“There will be fewer imperial nobles present. It’s the perfect chance to befriend the merchant aristocracy of the United Kingdoms and expand your network.”

“…Not bad.”

Their society, driven by commerce, was far more lenient with fabricated identities.

“If I befriend them, it will be easier to forge papers or find escape routes.”

I nodded, reaching for a pen to write my reply when—

“…Madam?”

Suddenly a stabbing headache struck. My hand shook around the quill, and I clutched my head, struggling to steady my breath.

“Why… all of a sudden?”

Hurriedly, I spoke inwardly to the spirits.

–Hasn’t the curse been lifted? Why now…

–What’s wrong?

–We can barely hear you. Are you speaking to us?

My vision went black. The curse… was it flaring up again?

“Maybe because I haven’t absorbed any spirit power yet…”

Just then, a knight knocked and entered.

“Madam, the Saintess has arrived. She says she felt your pain and came at once. What should we do?”

The knight looked alarmed at my pale complexion.

“This is an emergency! Madam is unwell!”

As I faltered on the edge of collapse, Patricia barked sharply:

“I don’t know how she found out, but bring the Saintess here immediately! I’ll take responsibility.”

***

Prick—

A strange sting made me blink.

The haze clouding my vision cleared, and I saw clearly the refined woman sitting before me.

The saintess smiled gently.

“Are you feeling a little better now?”

This time, she was veiled head to toe, in modest white garments.

“Saintess Stella?”

“Forgive me. I know Madam didn’t wish me to come.”

Stella lowered her long lashes with a tragic air.

“But when I felt your pain, I couldn’t just ignore it.”

“…It’s fine. Thanks to you, I feel much better. But do you know what caused me to collapse?”

“That… I cannot say. Perhaps…”

Her voice grew heavy.

“…stress. Has anything been weighing on you lately? Do you often feel burdened or weary?”

Her delicate hand closed softly around mine.

“…Whatever it is, Madam—it would be best to let go of the desires in your heart.”

“…”

“All illness begins in the heart.”

Somehow, her words rubbed me the wrong way.

“I appreciate her healing me, but… the more she talks, the less grateful I feel.”

And honestly, her appearance here felt far too coincidental.

“Is this really just chance?”

She had said before that she could sense people’s pain. Perhaps she had felt my curse and come here.

“…But I can’t help but feel suspicious.”

As she studied me, Stella smiled kindly.

“I’m just glad you’re safe. Whenever you need me—”

Suddenly she wavered, pressing a hand to her forehead. A priest rushed to her side.

“Saintess! Are you all right?”

“I… I’m fine.”

Her face had gone pale, her breathing shallow.

“I merely overexerted myself.”

“You must lie down and rest at once!”

“Indeed. The saintess’s health is the Empire’s health.”

“But…”

With a sorrowful glance at me, Stella murmured:

“What if she finds me burdensome…”

Was that… meant for me to hear?

“Last time someone told her off for being rude. And now…”

The priest took her side immediately.

“Saintess fell ill after treating the Duchess! You must ensure she has a room to rest in.”

“…She is my benefactor. Of course I must treat her well. I’ll prepare a room.”

“And she hasn’t eaten, either, rushing here for you. Could you prepare a dinner?”

I glanced at Patricia, who nodded calmly.

“It’s dinner time anyway. We can have it ready immediately.”

“…Good.”

I disliked the priests’ tone, but… who knew when I might need divine power again?

“For now, I’ll endure it. Until this curse is resolved.”

“A banquet will be prepared for the Saintess.”

“Thank you.” Stella smiled softly.

“I wanted to dine with you anyway, Duchess.”

“…Is that so?”

“Yes. I grew up in the temple from childhood. I’ve never had many friends.”

Her blue eyes grew moist, as though tinged with sorrow.

“That’s why I want to make as many friends as possible. Including you, Duchess Blanchet.”