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Chapter 19
Running away in the dead of night or stealing were hardly actions deserving praise, but there was still something about the situation that felt… humanly understandable.
If, as he claimed, his mother—well past eighty—was truly waiting day and night for her son to return.
“…How did you end up being held here, Sir Max?”
Ivnia asked as she slowly crouched down to meet his eye level.
A flicker of emotion shimmered in his eyes as he looked up at her.
Sir Max hastily wiped at his damp lashes before straightening his bent back and speaking.
“It wasn’t by choice. As you know, the South is a place where parents lull their children to sleep with stories of thieves who died coveting the treasures of Ritberg. Anyone with a sound mind would never dare trespass here. The problem was my master’s nursemaid—she was from another region. That fool probably hadn’t even heard half of the gruesome legends surrounding Ritberg Castle.”
“So you came here because your master ordered you to?”
“Yes. I knew he was immature, but I never imagined he’d be that reckless. Had I known, I wouldn’t have let ambition blind me into serving under him. With a brain like his, he was never going to inherit the estate anyway.”
According to him, the story went like this.
Sir Max had originally served as a knight of the Schweiger barony, a landed family in a neighboring province.
He worked as a guard under Franz, the eldest son of Baron Schweiger. One day, sick of his peaceful routine, his master came up with a thoroughly insane idea.
Namely—
“He said Ritberg Castle had been quiet for far too long. Franz believed the monster Ram had finally grown weak. After all, how could someone who’d lived for centuries still be in their prime? He added that old tales were always exaggerated.”
“Didn’t the people living nearby know that Lord Ram is… well, such a gentle person?” Ivnia asked.
“Not at all. Until I saw him with my own eyes, I believed the rumors too—that he had a grotesque appearance. He hadn’t shown himself publicly in hundreds of years. Everyone assumed there must be a reason. In the South, Ritberg is practically treated as cursed land, so no one ever tried to interact with it.”
“For cursed land, it didn’t seem all that unlivable.”
“That’s why, long ago, many tried to seize Ritberg. After every last one of them died without even setting foot inside the castle, no one tried to plant a new flag here again. Instead, the nearby regions began using it as a kind of dumping ground.”
“A dumping ground?”
“Literally. Garbage—or people treated like garbage—were sent here and blocked from ever leaving. Eventually, it became a place everyone avoided, claiming it was dangerous. You never knew what kind of lowlife you might run into.”
Preoccupied with other incidents, Ivnia had only now heard a proper explanation of this place.
Internally, she felt glad she’d chosen to speak with Sir Max.
Though the conversation had begun for another purpose, she doubted she’d have gotten such a clear answer from anyone else.
Even Hanna—who had lived in the castle her entire life—sometimes said things that didn’t quite align with common sense.
“Honestly, I followed my master here to protect him—from those people. Not from the mad butler, but from enemies beyond common sense. I wasn’t a Blessed One. How could I possibly stand against a hero etched into history and his followers? I knew Franz would never get what he wanted no matter what he tried. I had no interest in stolen goods either. That’s why I stayed outside alone, using ‘keeping watch’ as an excuse. And then…”
Sir Max squeezed his eyes shut, unable to continue.
Ivnia could easily imagine how the story ended.
She finished the sentence for him.
“They all died.”
“…I don’t know. We couldn’t find their bodies—nor even their belongings. But… yes. Probably.”
“Were you captured when you went looking for them?”
“No. The butler—Guillermo—came looking for me. At first, he charged at me like he meant to kill me, then suddenly changed his mind and said he’d spare my life. Apparently, they needed a knight.”
Ivnia buried her face in her palm.
Who could have predicted that the simple truth—a noblewoman needs a knight—would ruin a man’s life so completely?
“You can verify everything I said yourself. There are plenty of witnesses.”
Sir Max pleaded with desperate eyes.
Ivnia decided not to waste time on a formal investigation.
The situation he described was far too vivid to dismiss as lies.
After rubbing her face dry for a moment, she lifted her head and said,
“No one listened to your story? If you’d told others what happened, surely you would’ve been—”
“You’re the only one here who listens to reason, my lady…”
“But Hanna’s a person too.”
“That maid is the butler’s loyal pawn. She doesn’t have the authority to release an intruder.”
“…What about Seven?”
“That fairy thinks three years is roughly the same as three weeks…”
Ivnia sighed as she recalled Seven’s age.
To someone who had lived over five hundred years, three years really would feel insignificant.
“Still, wouldn’t it be dangerous to leave now? It’ll be dark soon, and if you’re unlucky, you might run into wild beasts in the forest.”
“But if I’m caught trying to escape in daylight, what then? If that butler regains his original nature, I’ll lose my last chance to flee.”
Honestly, it seemed like all she had to do was tell Ram the truth for Sir Max to be released openly.
But having never spoken directly with Ram, Sir Max clearly lacked the courage.
To him, Ram was probably less a devoted husband and more a man who could turn subordinates into fish with a flick of his hand.
Sir Max slammed his forehead against the floor again.
“My lady! I beg you! Please—just this once—pretend you saw nothing!”
“I’m not a lady anymore,” Ivnia replied calmly.
“I’m married now.”
Sir Max looked up at her, baffled.
She straightened her neck and repeated the new title with emphasis.
“I’m a married woman now.”
“Ah… yes. That… that’s true.”
“So I’ll have you leave properly.”
Ivnia smiled confidently.
Sir Max awkwardly lifted the corners of his mouth in return.
He still looked utterly confused—unable to connect her conclusion with her reasoning—but the doubt lingered silently in his eyes.
“Sir Seven, are you asleep? It’s Ivnia. I have something to ask.”
Ivnia knocked gently on Seven’s door.
Fortunately, it seemed he hadn’t gone to bed yet—there was faint movement inside.
Moments later, Seven yanked the door open roughly, clearly irritated by the late‑night visit.
Instead of wasting time on pleasantries, Ivnia went straight to the point.
“Sir Seven, I married Lord Ram. Right?”
“…You come barging in this late just to say that?”
“And divorce isn’t possible.”
“Yeah. So why are you asking all this now?”
“Then that makes me the legitimate lady of Ritberg, doesn’t it? I have the authority to manage this castle too, right?”
She had spoken clearly, not stumbling over a single word, yet Seven still looked utterly lost.
After staring at her with bleary eyes for a moment, he raised a hand and rubbed his unkempt face.
Then, in the weary voice of someone who had lived far too long, he said,
“Fine. Go strip the treasure vault bare as alimony if you want. Ram doesn’t even need to eat to survive. Just don’t sell the castle. I’d have nowhere to go.”
“I don’t need alimony. And I won’t sell the castle.
But can I use my authority as lady of the house to release Sir Max?”
Ram had already begun to feel uneasy about Sir Max staying after hearing about his history of theft.
Ivnia had expected an easy approval—but Seven, surprisingly, didn’t answer right away.
Watching him hesitate in silence, Ivnia asked worriedly,
“Sir Seven… what’s wrong? Is that not allowed?”
