KMPEG 51

Chapter 51

Charlier lifted her chin slightly and lowered her gaze.

“That’s right.”

Leo sat cocked to one side, one shoulder raised.

“Disappointing, Leo.”

“…?”

“Disappointing. I thought you were a strategist. But you’re just a child reacting out of emotion.”

Leo’s face tightened, pride clearly wounded by her jab.

“…Then who were you thinking of, Charlier?”

“Delphine.”

As she said the name, Charlier stabbed her fork into an éclair. It was only dessert, but the movement felt oddly violent and cruel.

“Why Delphine?”

“She’s the root of all the trouble, isn’t she? You’ve got to cut through the problem directly, Leo. Stop circling around like a coward.”

Leo ran both hands through the hair falling over his brow, revealing hollow eyes and a sharp nose.

Charlier studied his face closely.

Such a handsome face… but that constant sourness. Give it a few years and it’ll lose all its charm.

Leo let out a long sigh, clearly deep in thought. Charlier dabbed her mouth with a napkin and leaned forward slightly.

“Well? Using the curse orb on Delphine—what do you think?”

“…”

That day, Leo couldn’t give her an answer.

Hesitating like that, unable to say a word—utterly disappointing.

Even now, thinking of that day made Charlier seethe.

“Cowardly Leo. With that kind of backbone, how do you expect to get into the empire and lead the Marbo family?”

In that moment, she’d realized Leo wasn’t as bold or tenacious as she’d thought.

She stared into the pitch-black bedroom.

Strange.

The day she returned from the Salon de Chat, she’d used the curse orb right away—on Delphine.

By now, the curse should be taking full effect. The woman should be gasping for breath, on the brink of death.

Normally, the orb would have lit her bedroom crimson—clear, beautiful red like a devil’s heart.

But now it sat still, without even a glimmer.

“Hm.”

—Snap!

She struck a white phosphorus match. With its acrid smell, the candle flame flared up.

She lit the candle, snuffed the match in the ashtray, and the room was lit only by the wavering flame.

—Clatter.

At her vanity, she opened a drawer and felt around the top until she found a key. She unlocked her wardrobe.

In the corner was a jewelry box wrapped in a silk shawl. She placed it on the vanity and opened it.

Inside were beads of every color. They were so lustrous and clear that without knowing, one might think them beautiful—never guessing they were curse orbs.

—Clink, clink.

She ran her hands through them, the sound of glass tapping filling the room. Her gaze on them was warm, almost tender, like looking at something precious.

Should I use another? She might die from it. That would be even better.

Her eyes glittered coldly in the reflected light.

Just then, she sensed someone outside the door.

—Knock, knock.

“Wait,” she called, calm and authoritative.

“Yes, my lady.”

She carefully wrapped the box in the silk shawl, returned it to the wardrobe, hid the key, and spoke again.

“Come in.”

The housekeeper entered, a woman in her middle years who had served the Viold family for decades. She was the only one who could attend to Charlier—other maids rarely lasted more than a few days before fleeing in tears.

“My lady, a letter has arrived.”

“Leo? Martin? David? Frederic?”

“It’s an official letter from the imperial court.”

“The… imperial court?”

At the words “imperial court,” Charlier’s expression hardened.

She snatched the letter from the woman’s hands.

“You may go.”

The housekeeper bowed and left.

Standing by the candle, Charlier examined the envelope slowly.

“Mmm…”

Just seeing the imperial crest made her stomach churn. Her memories of the empire were anything but pleasant.

No… it’s all over now. Get a grip.

With trembling hands, she broke the wax seal. Cold sweat trickled down her back. She licked her dry lips and unfolded the paper.

To the esteemed Lady Charlier,

It was in the hand of the imperial secretary of Pignon. Her pupils trembled as she read. With each word, her heart pounded harder. Still shaking, she sank onto the sofa and set the letter on the table.

Her whole body quivered, eyes glazed and unfocused in panic.

“…No…”

A hoarse whisper slipped from her parted lips.

“…No… I don’t want to…”

In that moment, the candle—its wick nearly gone—flickered out. Darkness swallowed the room.

Though she couldn’t see, the imperial crest burned vividly in her mind.

“Kyaaaaaaaaah!”

Her shriek of madness rang through the Viold estate.

Some mornings are unusually fresh—you wake feeling perfectly rested, no stiffness at all.

Today was exactly that.

It’s on days like this you get blindsided.

Normally I’d laze in bed for a while, but today I moved right away. I drew the curtains; the sun was just rising.

I slept less than usual, so why do I feel so light?

Stretching my shoulders, I walked out.

Life had been monotonous since Tiago left—no special events. Ecor had told me Frederic was focusing on recovery.

Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him in days.

Maybe he was avoiding me; either way, we hadn’t crossed paths.

Well, that means I’m getting paid without working, so I can’t complain.

Still, studying trade alone had made me slack off a bit, and that nagged at me.

All right, I’ll get back to it after breakfast.

I put on my quilted indoor robe with an Eastern pattern.

Frederic got this specially from a trade ship. He can be thoughtful… shame he’s usually such a jerk.

I recalled the last time I’d seen him—wanting to say something but swallowing it back. The memory lingered.

Not seeing him since then makes me wonder how he’s doing.

Pushing away the thought, I opened the dining room door.

“Oh? My lord?”

Frederic was there. It was rare to run into him at breakfast—almost unheard of.

Or… is this not a coincidence?

Ecor stood beside him, both wearing serious expressions.

“What’s going on?”

“Good morning, my lady,” Ecor greeted. I sat diagonally across from Frederic.

“Yes, good morning.”

“Did you sleep well?” Frederic asked.

“Oh, um… yes. You too?”

I stammered awkwardly.

Ugh, why is this so awkward?

The table before him was cleared—he’d finished eating long ago.

“My lord… were you waiting for me?” I blurted, just to break the awkwardness.

That’s ridiculous. Why would he wait for me in the morning?

Surprisingly, his answer was the opposite of what I expected.

“Yes. I was waiting for you.”

“Cough—!”

I nearly spat out my tea. Why on earth would he be waiting for me first thing in the morning?

Is he… about to fire me?

I swallowed and waited.

“Ecor. Give it to her.”

Ecor handed me a letter.

“What’s this?”

I turned it over. The wax seal bore a crest that looked both unfamiliar and vaguely known.

“A letter from the imperial palace.”

“The palace? That’s… unexpected.”

My thought slipped out aloud. I hurried to open it. The gold-trimmed paper radiated authority.

Wow… even their stationery is on another level.

The neat handwriting was easy to read. I skimmed the short letter.

To the esteemed Lady Delphine,

You are invited to the coronation of Prince Alexander Pignon.

The coronation will be held on April 14th, Pignon Year 528. Please attend without delay.

With wishes for your continued glory and health, sent from the Imperial Household of Pignon.

I stared at Frederic, all awkwardness forgotten. This was unexpected.

He held up his own identical letter.

There were many things I didn’t understand.

Prince Alexander Pignon’s coronation… of course I remember. In the original story, it was mentioned many times as an important event.

Alexander Pignon—a famous womanizer and rude “diamond spoon,” born the imperial heir with his succession guaranteed since childhood.

Good-looking enough, they said, but fully aware of it—and so obsessed with women that it was said no one in the palace was untouched by him.