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#7
Chapter 07.
Knowing my willful nature, Berta let out a small sigh and asked.
“What did His Grace say?”
“Gert won’t object.”
Gert never particularly enjoyed my performances, but he was always considerate of my artistic temperament.
He understood my need to play whenever and wherever inspiration struck, and respected when I chose not to perform.
So, if I wanted to play now, he would readily agree.
Berta sighed, then dabbed the beads of sweat on my forehead with a cloth.
“If that’s the case, you could have sent a servant to fetch it.”
“I don’t like entrusting my lyre to others.”
With that, I entered the bedroom where my lyre rested.
My gaze went past the instrument to the bedside table drawer.
“And I have a secret favor to ask of you.”
“Of me?”
I opened the drawer. Inside lay a small vial containing a milky, luminescent liquid.
‘Wondered when I’d get to use this…’
I looked at Berta.
Her stern, strict demeanor reminded me of a governess. When I first arrived at this estate, I thought we would never get along.
But over time, Berta had become the only person in this mansion I could truly trust, aside from Gert and Hylas.
I placed the vial in Berta’s hand.
“Put this in Eurych wine glass. Can you manage it?”
“In Lord Eurych glass?”
Berta’s face clearly showed her shock at the request to drug Eurych, with whom I had always maintained good relations.
“It’s not poison. It won’t harm him physically.”
“…Is it absolutely necessary?”
“Absolutely.”
Seeing my firm insistence, Berta finally gave a resolute nod.
“Do not worry.”
If Berta said she could do it, then she could. A smile of trust touched my lips.
The moment I stepped back into the banquet hall with my lyre, all attention shifted to me.
Clearly, everyone had been waiting with bated breath for my return, the banquet itself forgotten.
Gert had arrived first, but no one would have dared question him.
I smiled brightly, as if nothing were amiss, and addressed the room.
“My apologies for stepping away earlier.”
Since I too made no further mention of the divorce, a palpable tension of curiosity hung in the air.
Gert’s relatives, in particular, seemed most agitated. They were the ones who had never approved of me, after all. Their anxiety was plain—they were worried I might retract my divorce request.
‘They’re so transparent now. It’s almost funny I never noticed before.’
Pretending not to understand their concerns, I continued calmly.
“As penance for disrupting the festivities, allow me to perform a piece.”
“A performance? By the Grand Duchess?”
For a moment, looks of bewilderment crossed many faces.
But soon, they nudged each other and spoke with beaming smiles, feigning anticipation.
“We have all heard tales of the Grand Duchess’s deeds with the Argo expedition four years ago. We were curious about your playing but dared not impose. To have this chance today is a delight!”
“Yes, indeed! We restrained ourselves, thinking it might be improper to ask for a performance.”
The performance hadn’t even begun, yet they all rushed to shower me with praise.
I knew it wasn’t genuine anticipation for my music. Their true feelings were likely the opposite.
‘They probably think it’s unbecoming of a noblewoman.’
So why the pretense of goodwill?
The answer, of course, was Gert.
Gert stood in a corner of the hall, arms crossed. No one there was brave enough to speak ill of his wife in his presence.
‘And Gert… just as expected.’
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gert merely raise one eyebrow at my announcement. Nothing more.
Having been anxious he might stop me, I finally felt a small wave of relief.
As the musicians awkwardly vacated their seats, space was cleared for a solo performance.
Taking my seat, I settled on the chair and gripped my lyre tightly.
The familiar feel of the wood grain beneath my fingers brought a sense of calm.
This lyre, crafted from golden walnut wood adorned with ivory and strung with gut, was like an old friend who had journeyed long with me.
‘It’s been a while.’
I had never been parted from it since I first held it, but being deprived of it during my confinement before the regression meant I hadn’t touched it for a full month.
‘I won’t be parted from it again.’
Remembering my return life, my hand tightened around the lyre.
With those memories so vivid, I couldn’t possibly let things pass as if nothing happened.
Holding the lyre more preciously than usual, I placed my fingers upon its strings.
There was a reason they had taken my lyre from me first.
A knight attacks with a sword.
Then I, a minstrel?
-Ding
My finger lightly plucked a string.
My attack flowed forth, carried on a melody.
“As penance for disrupting the festivities, allow me to perform a piece.”
When Orphea stepped forward with those words, Eurych Lübenhertz clicked his tongue in disdain.
‘To propose doing something fit for a mere entertainer, even as the Grand Duchess.’
Of course, Eurich knew well how remarkable a minstrel Orphea was.
Eurich had also been aboard the Argo, the expedition ship where Orphea met Gert.
Four years ago, the Kingdom of Petalien assembled an expedition to re-establish ties with the Kingdom of Ocronandi, with whom relations had been severed for a century.
The seas to Ocronandi were haunted by sirens, and the resupply islands held countless dangers.
Facing a perilous journey of nearly a year, the expedition leader, Prince Dietrich, gathered famed heroes.
Thus, the fifty heroes assembled became the Argo expedition.
If one had to name the greatest hero aboard the Argo, crewed solely by heroes, everyone would point to his damnable cousin, Gert. But Orphea’s exploits were no less impressive.
Outplaying sirens in lyre duels, lulling dragons to sleep.
The princess of Ocronandi had been so moved by Orphea’s performance that she boarded a ship bound for Petalien.
Her skill was truly admirable.
But that was before the marriage.
Now that she was Grand Duchess, shouldn’t she behave with the dignity befitting the family name?
‘Well, I suppose this is the level one can expect from the wife a bastard chooses.’
Eurich forcefully suppressed his irritation.
The memory of when he first learned of Gert’s existence surfaced vividly.
“That bastard can’t even read or ride! And he becomes Grand Duke over me?”
Eurich, originally designated as the Lübenhertz heir, was filled with resentment. But Eurich’s father had admonished him as if he were being foolish.
“Listen well, Eurich. Our family carries the sole semi-divine bloodline, descended from the legendary hero Alcides, who helped the gods win the war against the giants! Preserving that bloodline is our family’s paramount duty!”
In the Lubenhertz family, the one who inherited Alcides’s blood most strongly was given the name Alcides and made heir, regardless of legitimacy or birth order.
Eurich knew this rationally. He knew, but…
He couldn’t bear how Gert, who appeared out of nowhere, had plundered everything from him like a bandit.
His family, the elders’ favor, and women.
Yes, women! Every woman Eurich had ever fancied adored Gert. Even though Gert never so much as glanced their way!
And then, the woman Gert brought to marry was Orphea, a commoner.
‘If I were Grand Duke of Lübenherz, I would never install a woman like Orphea as Grand Duchess. A mistress, perhaps.’
Pleasant music and a lovely face.
With her hair, like braided lily petals, flowing over one shoulder, Orphea holding her lyre looked as mystical as an incarnation of Mnemir.
Just seeing her pale breasts and long, white fingers, it wasn’t hard to imagine what a delightful companion she would be in bed.
Certainly, having such a woman by one’s side would be pleasurable.
But as a result, here they were, hearing her ask for a divorce in front of everyone—how utterly humiliating!
As he was scrutinizing Orphea,
Suddenly, Orphea’s gaze fixed directly on Eurych.
