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Chapter 8
Red threads fluttered and scattered beneath Mariyu’s shoulders like drifting silk.
“Neril?”
No—what she had thought were threads were actually strands of her own cut hair.
Mariyu’s glossy red hair, which she had cherished and maintained as if it were her life itself, lay scattered messily across the floor.
“Eek! What are you doing?!”
“Next time, it’ll be your neck.”
Neril, holding a sword, issued a low warning.
“Are you crazy? Have you lost your mind—!”
The blade that had been lowered was suddenly raised upright again.
Cold metal pressed against her neck. A sharp, stinging pain followed as it sliced lightly into her skin.
Neril leaned in. Lowering her head, she whispered into Mariyu’s ear—so quietly that only she could hear.
“If you lay a hand on Her Highness again, I’ll break every single one of your fingers.”
“You—y-you…”
Mariyu bit her lip. She had never expected Neril, who had always seemed dull and expressionless like a block of stone, to feel this threatening.
Those eyes—inhuman, as if she had taken lives before—sent a chill down her spine.
Mariyu trembled and staggered backward step by step.
“Neril, don’t push yourself without rest.”
“I’m fine with this much.”
Even with her right hand wrapped in bandages, Neril showed no awkwardness wielding a sword with her left hand.
Medeia studied Neril from head to toe.
“She’s strong.”
Medeia had seen many powerful individuals during her expeditions. She couldn’t become like them, but at the very least, she had sharpened her ability to judge them.
Neril had no openings. Even now, with one arm unusable.
“If she’s like this even now… what would she be like at full strength?”
At minimum, she seemed capable of matching a seven-star knight of Kazen.
“So that’s why my brother Peleus sent her to me.”
Medeia muttered softly into Mariyu’s ear before returning with steady steps.
“What did you say to make her turn so pale?”
“I told her… to work hard.”
“Is that so?”
Whatever the reason, Mariyu was nothing more than a nuisance to Medeia.
She had no intention of keeping someone who had once stabbed her in the back.
“From today, she will handle my personal service. You there—take care of my dresses.”
“R-Really, Your Highness?”
The maids gasped in excitement.
Serving a princess was a highly rewarding position.
“Whatever the reason, since Mariyu has been pushed aside, this is our chance to earn some benefit!”
The maids could not hide their delight at the sudden shift in power.
They bowed repeatedly, their backs nearly worn out from bending, and followed behind Medeia.
Overjoyed, they flattered Medeia while also badmouthing Mariyu, calling her ungrateful.
“However, Your Highness, something felt strange in the palace today.”
One maid cautiously spoke up with a troubled expression.
“When we went to receive supplies, there were piles of dry firewood sitting right there, but they gave us different ones instead. And all of them were damp and covered in mold!”
“That’s right, Your Highness. And they even told us to carry them ourselves.”
“And they said ordinary maids are not allowed to enter our palace anymore.”
Without the basic staff responsible for palace upkeep, all the menial labor would fall on the maids serving the princess.
“After I scolded the head maid yesterday, it seems she’s trying to retaliate.”
Medeia nodded as if she understood.
“Oh my… then… is it true? That Your Highness personally struck Madame Quisin with a rod…?”
The incident from the previous day had spread throughout the palace overnight, but the maids of the princess’s quarters had found it hard to believe.
Now, hearing confirmation directly from the princess herself, they exchanged glances and then looked at Neril standing beside Medeia—remembering how the princess had personally supported the injured Neril the day before.
“Then… it’s because of Neril…”
So she had made an enemy of the head maid!
The maids were shocked, but at the same time, they thought the princess was foolish. Did she truly understand what it meant to turn an enemy over a mere maid?
Their thoughts were cut short by Medeia’s next words.
“This is my palace, and these are my people. Whether it was Neril or any one of you, it would have been the same. No one may lay a hand on my people without my permission.”
Medeia’s firm declaration left the maids flustered.
“Then, Your Highness… what do you plan to do? We’re just curious…”
The maids asked while rolling their eyes subtly.
Watching them, Medeia thought to herself calmly:
They’re not curious—
their masters are.
It seemed they had been instructed to observe her movements. Their eyes sparkled as they awaited her answer.
“I cannot yield to the head maid at this moment.”
With a soft creak, Medeia opened a drawer and took out a handful of jewelry.
“The head maid is baring her fangs, so things will likely be difficult for you for a while. I’m sorry.”
A pair of ruby earrings were given to the maid in charge of personal service, and a gold bracelet to the one in charge of dresses.
She distributed several larger pieces from the drawer to the others as well.
The maids’ eyes widened.
The princess had handed over her personal jewelry as a form of comfort.
How could someone be so ignorant of value?
Or… did she care about them that much?
The weight of the jewels, combined with her kind words, shook their hearts.
“If you endure now, the head maid will think she can suppress and dispose of you at will whenever she pleases.”
The princess’s eyes were colder than ever, though none of them noticed.
“Though I may be a powerless master, I do not wish to see you treated the same way.”
Her small white hand rested atop the maids’ hands holding the jewelry. Slightly cool, yet soft and gentle.
“When the time comes, I will ask my uncle to intervene. For the sake of this incompetent master, please endure until then.”
Her calm tone and lowered eyelashes revealed quiet resignation.
“N-No, Your Highness. We understand your intent to protect us—how could we resent you?”
“No matter how the head maid tries to torment us, we will endure and serve you with sincerity. Please trust us.”
The maids, tears welling in their eyes, spoke one after another.
The heavy jewelry in their hands further strengthened their loyalty.
“They’re all like bats—two-faced opportunists. You gave them far too much.”
After the maids left with far more respectful bows, Neril voiced her dissatisfaction.
This place was filled with people acting as informants trying to observe the princess’s movements.
Not a single one of them was worthy of receiving the princess’s sincerity.
“Everyone is eager to leak information about Your Highness outside, yet you reward them instead?”
“That’s right. Among my maids, the only one I can trust is you, Neril.”
Even though the drawer of jewelry had been emptied, Medeia remained composed.
“So they must be removed.”
“Pardon?”
At Neril’s puzzled expression, Medeia only formed a faint smile.
Most of the jewelry she had given away had been gifts from Duke Claudio and his wife.
The jewels given by her uncle and aunt were expensive, with stones large enough to be impressive at first glance.
Outwardly, they appeared to dote on their niece.
But upon closer inspection, the craftsmanship was crude, overly focused on size—clearly the taste of newly wealthy show-offs.
For those knowledgeable in jewels, they were vulgar pieces that called the owner’s judgment into question.
To have worn such ostentatious pieces in official settings…
There was a reason nobles and foreign envoys had looked down on Medeia.
“As soon as they leave the palace, they’ll try to sell them off.”
“Oh, that’s exactly what I want.”
The jewelry Medeia handed out would act like a megaphone to the world.
Somewhere, people would remember the extravagant gifts the regent couple had given her.
Once those jewels entered circulation, people would begin to wonder:
Why had a princess of a nation given away her valuables to placate her maids?
How far could her uncle suppress the truth?
“This is cheap, considering I’m borrowing their hands.”
Medeia calmly tapped Neril’s shoulder.
“You will regret this.”
The head maid had not spoken lightly.
She sprinkled sand into the food and coated the bedding with scents that attracted pests.
She attempted everything that could make a young noble lady’s daily life unbearable.
All access to the princess’s palace was blocked under the head maid’s authority.
Although visitors were already rare, even official personnel were barred, turning the princess’s palace into a desolate place like an abandoned ruin.
The head maid intended to completely isolate Medeia within the vast palace.
“I told Catherine as well not to visit the princess for now.”
She would make Medeia reflect alone on the consequences of her reckless actions.
Medeia… you’ve stepped on the whiskers of a sleeping lion.
The head maid trembled with satisfaction at her successful revenge.
But there was one thing she could never have anticipated:
“Ugh, how long is this going to go on? Hey, throw this away. It came from outside.”
“Isn’t this way too outdated? A sewing pin? What era is this from?”
Most of her malicious “gifts” never even reached Medeia in the first place.
