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Chapter 10
Gilbert smirked. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes were cold—there was nothing warm about that grin.
So he could make a face like that. Up until now he’d acted indifferent to everything.
“Follow me. We’ll finish this conversation somewhere more private.”
That was the last glimpse I had of Belladonna, trembling as she trailed behind Gilbert. She never returned to the mansion after that.
So… is it settled now?
I’d need to bring in more staff, but that wasn’t the real issue.
If Zerodines hadn’t warned me, I might have been the one forced to leave the estate. Relief and the faint taste of victory felt small compared to the weight of anxiety.
I need to stay sharp. Just because I’ve regressed doesn’t mean I’m suddenly stronger.
I might have more information, but physically, I’m still just a fragile child. If I need an ally, there’s no one more suitable than Zerodines.
But how can I possibly bring him over to my side?
While I was still lost in thought, Gilbert summoned me to his office.
“There’s been some trouble, but don’t sulk. If you keep wearing that sorry face, who’s ever going to want to marry you?”
Perhaps worried I’d been hurt, he teased me even more than usual. His provocation was so over the top it almost felt rude not to react, but I only answered absentmindedly, still distracted by my thoughts.
“I’ll just live single.”
“Oh? Is that so? Do you really think, with men practically tripping over themselves around here, not one of them would want you?”
“Fine, then I’ll just take five husbands.”
“Go ahead, try it. But the first test for any son-in-law will be to beat me in a duel. The second will be swimming across a lava lake. The third, getting struck by lightning barehanded.”
Somebody, please stop this ridiculous father-in-law.
By the fourth trial, I’d stopped paying attention. Apparently bored, Gilbert started braiding my hair with his hands.
“…The eighteenth trial, doing my work in my place. The nineteenth, attending family council meetings and listening to Father’s nagging on my behalf…”
Before long, his voice trailed off.
When I glanced sideways, Zerodines had his eyes closed.
Meditating? If I could, I would ask him—Is there truly no way to make you my ally?
Most likely not. There was no way to take down both the First Prince and Ivemaria together.
Not unless there was a prince willing to pose as my husband, at least until I got my revenge.
…
…
“Ah!”
Wait—wasn’t there exactly such a person?
My eyes lit up at once.
Prince Rosinante, the male lead.
The Saintess had prophesied that Rosinante would be the savior of the world. To protect him until adulthood, the Holy Nation secretly spirited him away from the Imperial Palace, and to prevent chaos, they left behind a stand-in to play his role.
If memory served, the switch was about to happen soon.
He’s not the real prince anyway, just a spy. It should be fine to get involved, right?
When the spy looked for a noblewoman willing to act as the prince’s bride for the sake of his cover, I could simply step forward.
I’d play the role of his wife while he carried out his mission, take down the First Prince and Ivemaria, and once the real Rosinante returned, I could end things cleanly.
If he wasn’t real, separation would be easy.
I could just expose his identity.
Then I’d be a poor, lonely widow with nothing left but the government reward for reporting a spy.
The thought was so delightful it brought tears to my eyes.
“Whoa! What’s wrong? Why are you crying—did it hurt?”
Gilbert pulled his hands away from my head. At some point, while I’d been lost in thought, he’d finished braiding my hair.
“No, it’s just… suddenly I really, really want to get married.”
“Ah, I see. I must’ve pulled too hard on your hair and scrambled your brains.”
His big, clumsy hands had done their best, but his braiding was no better than that of a novice maid.
“If you don’t like it, you can take it down. I’ll practice and make it prettier next time.”
Still, the effort was touching. I stood and twirled around once, skirt fluttering.
“No, I really like—”
Growwwl!
Right on cue, my stomach let out a thunderous roar.
—Too bad it wasn’t the heavens splitting open.
Zerodines broke his meditation just to sneer.
Shut up!
I squeezed my eyes shut in embarrassment. Gilbert chuckled and ruffled my hair.
“I must’ve kept you too long. Come on, let’s head to the dining hall. Anything in particular you want to eat?”
“Something I want?”
“Of course. Kids should eat well, especially at times like this. I’ll tell the kitchen.”
“In that case…”
I took a deep breath and rattled it all off in one go:
“Beef stew, capon magro, pork sausages with pepper, roasted lamb with spicy sauce, seasonal fish dishes, butter-seared scallops, spiced nut tart, rye bread with marmelo paste, cheese custard with clotted cream, blancmange, motlous, and meatball pastries.”
“Are you planning a birthday banquet for His Majesty the Emperor? Just pick something you can actually finish.”
“But that was the shortened version.”
“You’re just hungry right now. Once you start eating, you won’t manage much.”
“Then… coffee.”
He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.
But in the end, soft-hearted as ever, he compromised with a light milk tea.
Meanwhile, at around the same time.
Wilhelm’s desk was piled high with documents.
The résumé of the magic tutor recommended by Kaulen.
The investigation report on Revieta—identity unknown, age unknown, background unknown, so vague it made one wonder if she even existed.
Placed beside a résumé densely packed with small, detailed handwriting, Revieta’s paper looked practically blank. Yet Wilhelm’s gaze lingered longest on the sheet bearing only her name.
“No particular issues. Proceed as planned.”
After reviewing them, Wilhelm pushed the stack toward Sebek.
“Yes, Your Excellency.”
“And what about the maid who caused trouble at the annex?”
“Well… before we could intervene, she apparently contracted an illness.”
“An illness?”
“Yes. It seems she caught an incurable disease while in contact with a plague victim. With no treatment and a high fatality rate, her chances of survival are very slim.”
“So survival isn’t impossible.”
“Correct, though in the unlikely event she does live, the aftereffects are horrific. Her skin would rot and ooze, her nose and ears would fall away, and in severe cases, even her internal organs…”
Sebek wisely let his words trail off.
“That concludes my report.”
“Remind the head maid to properly educate the staff. If there’s another disgraceful incident like this, I won’t let it slide.”
“I’ll make sure the warning is delivered.”
“More importantly, I hear Revieta handled herself well? Tell me the details.”
Sebek gestured animatedly as he recounted the events.
Wilhelm listened with satisfaction, but just as the conversation grew lively, he suddenly broke into a fit of coughing.
“Your Excellency! Are you all right?”
“…Seems my illness has flared again. Think nothing of it.”
“The wind is sharp these days. Shouldn’t you cancel your outside schedule?”
“I said it’s nothing.”
But a secretary’s duty was also to care for his lord. Sebek lightly tapped the chessboard.
“Then how about a game with me instead? It’s been a while.”
“You’re persistent. You still can’t beat me, and yet you keep asking.”
A battlefield without rivals—black and white pieces without equal opponents. It was dull.
Without a worthy adversary, without a miraculous savior or peerless hero, meaningless struggles failed to stir Wilhelm’s interest.
Sensing this, Sebek wisely steered the conversation toward a subject with better odds.
“Then… shall I summon Lady Revieta instead?”
“And why would you suggest that?”
“I simply thought it might be more enjoyable to hear it directly from her. Conveniently, we’ve also prepared a means of transport for the young lady.”
In a half-open drawer lay a white horse’s bridle tied with ribbon. Wilhelm shut it with a snap.
“Well… perhaps.”
“There’s no need for you to personally handle every petition from the townsfolk. Entrusting such disputes would be a fine way to test a vassal’s judgment.”
“Smooth talker. Isn’t your real aim just to get me to rest?”
“How did you know?”
“Maybe I should dismiss my secretary along with that maid. Enough—go on.”
Wilhelm waved him off with a scowl.
Ah, Your Excellency… to see you this pleased…!
Others might see only his severe expression, but to Sebek, who had long served at his side, it looked positively buoyant.
Overjoyed, Sebek left the room.
But before he even reached the annex, for some reason, he hurried back to the office.
Knock, knock. The sound was duller than usual.
“The door’s open. You’re back sooner than expected.”
“Your Excellency, I have something to report.”
“What is it?”
“It’s… His Grace has arrived—”
Sebek faltered mid-explanation.
