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Chapter : 31
The warm atmosphere from just moments ago froze over in an instant. Marianne set down her napkin and rose from her chair.
Amelie, still wearing a grave expression as she opened the door, added an explanation.
“He insisted that he must see Your Highness immediately to deliver a letter, so I had no choice but to interrupt. My apologies.”
“…It’s fine. Is the messenger in the drawing room?”
“Yes. I’ll guide you.”
Marianne walked down the corridor with Amelie.
It was strange and a little sad how the hallway she had walked through so cheerfully earlier now felt long and tense.
“Greetings, Your Highness. I am Count Christian Rubex, here to deliver a letter sent by His Majesty the Great Emperor and His Highness the First Prince.”
The messenger she finally met had apparently been waiting for her the entire time without even sitting down on the sofa.
Christian, whose thin mustache left a strong impression, rattled off his introduction in an extremely businesslike tone and dipped his head slightly.
Though he addressed her as Your Highness, his greeting made it abundantly clear that he had no intention of acknowledging Marianne as such.
“…Nice to meet you, Count Rubex.”
Marianne returned the greeting in a tone that made it just as clear she wasn’t pleased. Instead, her gaze fixed on the sash visible beneath his coat. Realizing she had noticed it, the count straightened his chest.
“I offer my sincerest apologies for the rudeness of arriving without prior notice, but this was an urgent letter—urgent enough that His Majesty bestowed upon me the golden insignia.”
The golden insignia, granted only by the Emperor, signified a trusted imperial messenger—one whom no one could bar from delivering a letter. He seemed quite proud of it.
But for Marianne, the Emperor’s trust or the honor of a noble house stirred nothing in her heart.
She extended her hand, her voice flat.
“Give me the letter.”
“…Here it is. Please review it, and then write your reply.”
Christian’s eyebrow twitched as he retrieved an envelope from inside his coat. The seal bore the unmistakable imperial crest.
So it wasn’t sent by Louis alone.
No matter how much authority he wielded, he wouldn’t dare use or forge the Emperor’s seal.
The moment it was discovered, he’d be branded a traitor.
And besides—the Emperor was a petty man who didn’t even trust the children he himself had sired.
“It must’ve been hard coming all this way in the snow. Are you heading back right away?”
Marianne casually asked as she sliced open the envelope with the paper knife Amelie handed her. But the reply made her pause mid-motion.
“Yes. As you know, I serve only His Majesty the Emperor. No matter what prophecy may have been given, I have no desire to linger in a land that once plotted treason.”
Should I just stab him?
Seeing Amelie’s fingers tremble at her side, Marianne seriously considered it. Barely regaining her composure, she shot the count a fierce glare.
Not even bothering to hide the sneer curling at her lips, she snapped back.
“Hah, do as you like. But Count Rubex—don’t forget that the House of Calais holds a ducal rank, far above a mere count. And I am the tutor of the Young Duke of Calais. Everyone remaining here are loyal vassals who chose to serve him despite harsh circumstances.”
“But Your Highness—”
Christian tried to interject, his eyebrow twitching again. Marianne didn’t let him finish.
“I didn’t give you permission to speak. Or is it that, to you, someone personally granted the title of ‘Princess’ by His Majesty is nothing more than a convenient bastard?”
“…No.”
Faced with her sharp voice, Christian barely managed a response. To answer otherwise would be to deny the Emperor’s authority itself. He ground his teeth internally but said nothing more.
“I’ll write my reply in my room. Wait quietly until then.”
Leaving that as a declaration rather than a request, Marianne exited the drawing room. Amelie followed silently.
After returning to her room and letting her anger simmer down, Marianne pulled the letter from the envelope. The thin paper crumpled under her rough grip, but even Amelie didn’t voice concern.
After all, anything brought by the already-offensive Christian Rubex was unlikely to contain friendly words.
And contrary to her expectations, the letter had indeed been written by Louis.
“Marianne. As His Majesty’s health is poor, I have written this letter on his behalf. However, it has been personally approved by His Majesty, so read it with due consideration.”
“Ridiculous.”
Marianne muttered under her breath as she read Louis’s handwriting.
And if I don’t? What are you going to do?
It wasn’t as if he’d shown every line to the Emperor like a school assignment. He’d simply gotten permission to write something along these lines.
The audacity of warning her on top of that was almost laughable.
…Calm down.
She exhaled deeply, poured herself a glass of water, and drank it in one go. The cold water cleared her head, settling her emotions.
With chilled, steady eyes, Marianne continued reading.
“His Majesty has expressed deep regret regarding your recent actions in the North. The Young Duke is merely a medium through which the prophecy will be fulfilled—he must not be given power. However, according to reports, it seems you do not fully understand this. Your current behavior is extremely dangerous.”
“…Ha.”
Marianne cursed inwardly. As she read, she was certain that whatever venomous report Lusana had sent, Louis had deliberately exaggerated it before presenting it to the Emperor.
The Potea fruit she’d secured as military provisions was probably twisted into some suspicious resource, and the Frost Lily she’d obtained for Cedric might have been transformed into a legendary elixir in the report.
No wonder the Emperor, filled with displeasure and anxiety, had stamped his seal on this letter.
**“…Therefore, you are advised to return to the Imperial Palace. A carriage will be dispatched in one week—remember this. Additionally, Princess Estelle will assume the role of the Young Duke’s tutor, so you need not worry. If you ignore this recommendation, there is no telling what decision His Majesty may make next. Consider carefully.
Your brother,
Louis.”**
“……”
After finishing the letter, Marianne smiled—only her lips curving upward.
To phrase a threat implying the annihilation of the North if she didn’t return, and then sign off as your brother—what a nauseating conclusion.
She took another drink of water and reread the letter, her mind now clearer.
“Your Highness. I’ve prepared pen and paper. …Are you all right?”
Amelie, who had stepped away while Marianne was reading, looked worried. Her expression must have been quite grim.
“I’m fine.”
Marianne wiped her face and forced a bright smile, then fell briefly into thought.
Setting aside her anger toward Louis, the contents of the letter’s ending weren’t entirely bad.
In the original story, Estelle wouldn’t arrive for several more years. Now she would reach the estate much sooner. That meant there was a strong chance Cedric’s madness would subside earlier.
If that happened, his suffering would be shortened, and the North would recover more quickly.
It wasn’t bad. No—if anything, it was good.
Except for having to part with Cedric sooner than expected.
Once his madness fades, he’ll probably forget me.
The thought was a little bitter, but the sooner Cedric grew strong enough that even the Emperor couldn’t ignore him, the better.
Determined to think in the most favorable way possible, Marianne picked up her pen.
After writing a brief reply, she sealed the letter with the wax Amelie prepared, just as before. Only once the heat had fully faded did Marianne stand and head back to the drawing room.
“Take it, Count Rubex.”
Christian, who had been waiting stiffly the entire time, accepted the letter.
“Thank you for your cooperation. As stated in the letter, a carriage from the Imperial Palace will arrive in one week, so please be sure to remember that.”
And again—he kept talking. Did one need to be this verbose to earn a golden insignia? He wasn’t a parrot, yet he was unbearably loud.
With one corner of her mouth lifted, Marianne mocked him.
“Why? If I don’t remember, will Louis send troops to raze the ducal estate?”
“…Ahem. Please mind your words, Princess Marianne.”
Christian visibly flustered, as though similar discussions had actually taken place at the palace. Marianne shrugged and waved her hand dismissively.
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll remember. Now get out of my sight—unless you want to die.”
“…I will repay this humiliation someday.”
So he really was saying it outright—he didn’t see her as a princess at all. Marianne met his glaring eyes with a sharp stare of her own.
“I look forward to that opportunity. Goodbye.”
As the door opened, Christian merely dipped his head and turned sharply, striding out of the drawing room.
At some point, apparently summoned by Amelie, Miel and several knights were already waiting at the entrance to escort the count.
It was closer to an expulsion than a send-off, but Marianne didn’t care. Seeing Christian flustered at the sight of the knights was deeply satisfying.
Yet once his figure disappeared completely, even that feeling faded quickly. Marianne turned to Amelie, masking her bitterness as much as she could.
“Whew… Sorry, Amelie. I wanted to stay longer, but it seems I can’t.”
“Your Highness…”
“But Estelle, who’ll come in my place… she’s a good child. She’ll treat him well.”
She had never met her, but as the heroine of the original story, she was surely kind and upright.
With a faint smile, Marianne left the drawing room.
Only one week remained. If she was going to say goodbye to the people of the ducal estate—and then run away—there was a lot to do.
As if I’d obediently return to the Imperial Palace.
Go to hell, Louis, you bastard.
