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Chapter 09
Secrets and Lies (1)
“The Lord’s carriage has arrived!”
At the shout from the soldier guarding the gates of the Wiltera Marquisate, the knights and soldiers who had been waiting after receiving advance notice quickly gathered in formation before the opened gates.
There were no cheers of welcome, as befitting the solemnity of the moment.
The townsfolk who had gathered behind the soldiers and knights remained silent, bowing their heads deeply toward the carriage that slowly passed through the castle gates.
The Wiltera family, who had governed the Valorin region for generations, was one of the few noble houses that truly cared about the peaceful lives of its people.
The orphanage, the nursing home, and the medical clinic—open to all residents of the territory and personally funded by the Marquis—stood as proof of that.
Because of these acts of generosity, there were few among the townsfolk who had not, in some way, received the Wilteras’ kindness. Thus, their faces were heavy with sorrow as they greeted the family’s carriage.
Some who had personally known Bledin could not help but shed tears.
It was, in every sense, a funeral procession.
At its head was the carriage bearing the Marquis’s immediate family, guarded by knights on horseback, followed by other carriages carrying various loads, all moving slowly toward the lord’s castle.
When they finally arrived—having passed through rows of grieving citizens unable to hide their tears—they were met by the castle staff, who had been waiting since dawn.
“Welcome home, my lord.”
The head steward, responsible for the castle’s management, bowed deeply as he opened the carriage door.
Following his lead, the rest of the household servants bowed in unison to greet their returning masters.
“Yes.”
The Marquis stepped down from the carriage and immediately turned to help his wife, the Marchioness, alight. Her face was pale, her brows furrowed from nausea and headache after the long journey.
While he carefully attended to her, the Wiltera twins also stepped out and were greeted by the butler.
It was at that moment that all eyes—of servants, knights, and attendants alike—focused on a single sight.
The rumor was true.
The girl’s once-beautiful navy-blue hair was now a stark, ghostly white.
They had heard whispers that the young lady had lost her brother and, with him, the color in her hair, but few had truly believed it until now.
Seeing it with their own eyes, they could not find the words to speak.
Noticing the sudden attention, Berenice discreetly gave her twin a prearranged signal.
When she had first suggested the idea, he had grumbled that it would never work—but now, he nodded quickly toward the carriage, perfectly playing along.
“Berenice!”
After receiving Lowell’s signal that everything was ready inside, Berenice closed her eyes as if overcome by dizziness—and collapsed.
Had Lowell not caught her just in time, she might have struck her head on the ground.
“My lady!”
“Quick, bring her inside! Hurry!”
The girl’s white hair had already drawn enough attention, and now, with her sudden fainting, chaos erupted.
Everyone rushed about in alarm, calling for help.
And in the midst of the commotion, as Berenice fell gracefully like a painted image, the carriage door on the opposite side opened—then shut quietly.
No one noticed.
Berenice lay on her soft bed, calculating the right moment to get up.
Her parents, Lowell, and the physician who had traveled from the capital were already in on the plan, so she could rise immediately if she wished—but the problem was the old steward who had accompanied them.
Duncan Harris.
The Harris family had served the Wilteras for generations. Duncan had overseen the castle since even before the Marquis himself was grown, and his son managed the Wiltera estate in the capital. His grandson was currently apprenticing here in the territory.
In other words, Duncan’s influence within the family was immense—far beyond what most realized.
And now, after deceiving a man who occasionally even dared to lecture the Marquis himself, Berenice had to deal with the consequences.
“The question is… who’s going to handle those consequences.”
Even her father, her greatest ally, often hesitated under Duncan’s sharp gaze.
But how could she possibly confess that she had faked her collapse to draw everyone’s attention away—giving time for the Second Prince and his aide to slip away unnoticed?
Though Duncan had always treated her with gentle indulgence, this time even she felt unsure.
Maybe she should just stay lying here and play dumb.
She was considering that very thing when—
“My lady, it’s time you got up.”
Duncan’s voice cut through the silence, heavy with restrained disapproval.
Everyone in the room stiffened.
“…You knew?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
“Ahem.”
The Marquis awkwardly cleared his throat, averting his gaze. Berenice, realizing the act was up, sat up meekly and climbed down from the bed.
“I’m sorry for deceiving you…”
“I’m sure you had your reasons.”
Duncan’s stern expression softened slightly as he noticed the long object she clutched tightly in her arms—Bledin’s sword. His eyes flickered, but he said nothing, merely smiling kindly.
Once again, it seemed the old man had decided to let the young lady win.
Perhaps it was only natural; after all, she was the first daughter born to the family after generations of sons—a child whose very presence melted hearts.
But that gentleness was reserved for her alone.
As Duncan’s face hardened again, he silently turned to the Marquis, demanding an explanation for the situation.
“So, we have… a certain guest whose presence must be kept secret.”
“That’s right,” the Marquis replied shortly.
After a brief explanation, Duncan nodded, quickly piecing the story together.
He glanced at Berenice’s white hair and the sword in her arms—perfect distractions that would have drawn everyone’s attention.
A convincing performance indeed. Even he had been fooled for a moment.
“She’s changed.”
Watching her sit calmly on the bed, waiting for the discussion to end, Duncan couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness. The loss of her brother had turned the once-bright child into an adult overnight.
“Where are these secret guests now?” he asked quietly, looking away to give her privacy.
“…I told Lewis to take them to Bledin’s room,” the Marquis answered hesitantly.
It clearly weighed on him to offer his late son’s room, but Duncan understood.
No one in the family would willingly enter that room until after they returned to the capital. It was, in fact, the safest place to hide their guests.
“Sir Walker will have handled everything properly, I trust,” Duncan said smoothly.
Everyone present understood the unspoken meaning behind the Marquis’s hesitation. But Duncan acted as though he hadn’t noticed and turned his attention back to Berenice.
“My lady needs rest. Everyone will make sure of that.”
“I’ll be fine by the time the funeral preparations are over,” Berenice said softly.
“But to get to my room, people have to pass by Bledin’s. It makes me uncomfortable—maybe it’s just because I’m unwell—but… Seth,” she said, turning to the young physician.
“Yes, my lady.”
“You’ll need to move around alone. Is that all right?”
“It is, my lady.”
Satisfied with his answer, she looked at her father.
“Father.”
“…What is it?”
“I think I’ll be quite sick for a while. Do you think I can rest quietly until then?”
“…Duncan.”
“I’ll restrict the corridor until the lady has recovered,” the steward replied smoothly. “Only authorized personnel will be allowed through.”
Berenice nodded in approval—only to find everyone staring at her strangely: Lowell, her parents, even Seth.
Only Duncan’s expression remained unreadable.
“…Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked warily.
“Well,” Lowell said slowly, “you just seem… smarter than usual today?”
“What?”
“I mean, since when did you start analyzing the situation and giving orders like that?”
Ah.
She had been too caught up in explaining herself. If anyone noticed how much sharper she had become since the tragedy—or since her return—it would raise questions she couldn’t answer.
“…That’s a weird thing to say. ‘Smarter than usual’?”
Luckily, inspiration struck just in time.
“Not an insult, exactly,” Lowell said, scratching his cheek. “It’s just—you don’t usually think this far ahead.”
“Would you care to explain exactly what that means?”
“Hey, come on. You wouldn’t want to hurt a patient’s feelings, right?”
“Lowell!”
Their familiar bickering filled the room, and the Marchioness couldn’t help but laugh.
The strange tension from before dissolved; her daughter seemed back to normal.
The Marquis, too, sighed in relief at their antics.
“Enough, both of you,” he said firmly, and the twins fell silent.
The Marchioness turned to her husband. “You should go see him now.”
“Yes.”
Lingering too long in Berenice’s room, when she was supposed to be unconscious, would only invite suspicion. And there were other matters to attend to—securing the corridor and finding the antidote for the poison that had nearly killed the prince.
As the family left the room to handle their respective duties, Berenice exhaled softly in relief.
Thanks to her usual banter with Lowell, no one suspected a thing.
“I guess I’ll have to play the sick patient until the funeral’s over,” she murmured.
It would be stifling—but considering what she still needed to do, being confined to her room was the perfect cover.
“Nadia.”
She pulled the cord beside her bed, summoning the maid who had accompanied her from the capital.
Together, they replaced her formal clothes with something lighter.
Normally, her maid Marian would have come too, but Berenice had deliberately left her behind—she couldn’t stomach bringing a traitor to Bledin’s funeral.
If Marian had been here, she’d have informed the Blaze family about Prince Kaiden by now.
Leaving her behind had been the right decision in every way.
“My lady, you look pale,” Nadia said, concern in her voice.
“I’m just tired. And from now on, whatever happens here…”
“I’ll know nothing of it,” Nadia said firmly. “A sick lady’s maid sees and hears nothing she shouldn’t.”
Her short, dark auburn hair swayed as she bowed slightly, her green eyes clear and calm.
Yes—Nadia could be trusted.
Reassured, Berenice drew a breath and began to speak. It was time to take care of the most urgent matter at hand.
