TLDH~13

Chapter 13

“I should find out more about Hale first.”

Whose person she was.
And why she had helped me.

‘Oh? Lieutenant Bennet!’

Ah—right, that voice!

“Hale.”

“Y-yes, my lady. Forgive me.”

Hale bowed her head deeply, as if she, too, had just come to her senses.

But that wasn’t what I meant to ask.

“Did you see anything before you ran into me?”

“Pardon?”

“I mean, before that—did you happen to see Bennet?”

Hale blinked at me, not understanding what I was getting at, then slowly shook her head.

“I saw Sir Bennet for the first time yesterday.”

“Just yesterday?”

“I’d heard of him, but never met him before.”

Her expression said, why are you asking that?

And from that expression alone, I became sure—she wasn’t the one who had stepped in when Chandler was tormenting me.

Besides, that voice back then had sounded like a man’s.

‘Then who was it? That voice…’

No one in this household came to mind as someone who would take my side, and I tilted my head slightly in thought—

“Oh, right. Are you hungry?”

“Would you like something to eat, my lady?”

“Order anything you want.”

“We’ll make it ourselves! Don’t you worry.”

Arina and Lindsay each took one of my hands and exchanged glances.
Beyond their eager faces, I could see Paul wiping his monocle with the hem of his shirt, watching the three of us with weary eyes.

His expression said it all—he looked tired. And honestly, I agreed with him.

I’d left them alone because I figured they were still useful, but—

‘This is getting too bothersome.’

Sure, their lives depended on pleasing me, but that still didn’t explain those faces.

Still, since they were being so eager to serve—

“I want meat.”

“Meat?”

“Yes, beef. Veal. Tender.”

From that day on, the rumor that Margo Essier had fallen ill spread through the capital like a spring breeze.

Speculation was rampant over what could have made that once-sturdy old man collapse, but when word got out that the Imperial Inspection Unit had occupied the Essier estate, everyone understood.

“It must be from sheer rage,” they said.

And who could blame them?
A duke above other dukes—one of the five great noble houses—had been humiliated by the Emperor himself. It was only natural that the head of House Essier would be stricken with fury.

It was, however, a most unwelcome rumor for the Emperor.

“Even the commoners say His Majesty went too far this time, siding with the Essiers instead.”

“Really?”

“Yes. The palace’s reputation is in shambles. And the noble assembly is only three days away.”

Listening to the report from Arina—who had lately become remarkably attentive—I hid a small smirk.

‘Bennet really does his job well.’

I used to wonder why Grandfather kept him so close despite his strict personality.

Now, I understood.

Sharp, resourceful, and able to anticipate two or three moves ahead from a single hint.

‘If I could get Bennet on my side, things would be easier.’

Hmm. I tapped my chin lightly, thinking what I could possibly offer him.

But then I shook my head.

‘No, that won’t work.’

In my past life, he’d been a man who worked endlessly—someone who seemed to be his duty, even when he wasn’t officially on duty.

He wasn’t loyal to people.
He was loyal to the House.

‘Well, that’s why he served Andrea after Grandfather died.’

I didn’t know exactly how the house had fallen—since I hadn’t lived to see it—but I could imagine him standing at the front lines, watching it all crumble, and suffering most of all.

‘But that’s not something I can tell him.’

In any case, if I wanted to win him over, either Father or I would have to become the head of house—or guarantee him something of equivalent worth.

Still, I should think of a way to draw him closer.

He clearly already felt some measure of fondness toward me.

‘And then there’s Dr. Paul.’

Maybe it was just my memory playing tricks, but I had always believed that Paul was expelled from the household because he had been the attending physician when Grandfather died.

But during my recovery after the carriage accident, I’d heard a slightly different version of that story.

“I could have saved him! I made the medicine! I could’ve—hick—saved the lord!”

He’d been drunk when he said that, of course, and the next day he denied everything.

Still, the more I thought about it, the stranger that whole situation seemed.

‘I should’ve asked more about that treatment back then.’

It might have been years later, but knowing the details early could let me prevent Grandfather’s death this time.

‘What was his diagnosis again…?’

I rolled the marbles of memory in my head, but the exact name of the illness wouldn’t come.

No matter. I had time.

Slowly, carefully—I’d figure it out.

Once I got through this house arrest, I could start investigating Grandfather’s condition.

When his temper cooled, his health would stabilize too.

And if Paul finished that supposed cure around the same time—

Then maybe…

Knock knock.

“My lady.”

The soft knock and voice snapped me out of my thoughts. I turned my head to see one of the estate servants step inside.

The small child bowed politely, hands folded.

“What is it?”

“The Duke requests your presence.”

Ah, my dear Grandfather. So he finally ran out of patience.

Knock knock.

Margo, half-reclined in his bed, removed his glasses as Leticia entered the room with light steps.

“You called for me, Grandfather?”

Her soft, wheat-colored hair, tied into two neat braids, swayed as she curtsied with practiced grace.

The butler, standing at Margo’s bedside, stifled a laugh behind a polite cough.

Margo’s sharp eyes flicked toward him in warning—but instead of shrinking back, the butler merely smiled faintly and lowered his shoulders.

“Every time I see her these days, she reminds me more of young Lord Charrière.”

“Thank you.”

Leticia smiled, bowing her head lightly.

Margo studied her face.

‘Hmm.’

Yes—the butler was right.

Just six months ago, when she’d left the capital, Leticia had been so hopeless that no one could have believed she was Charrière’s daughter.

Petulant beyond her years, and far too foolish to bear that name.

‘But in just half a year, she’s even begun to look like him?’

Margo narrowed his eyes.

He’d been told that before leaving for the capital, she would throw herself to the floor and cry whenever things didn’t go her way.
If that report were true, then her recent change was nothing short of miraculous—and timed exactly with his return.

‘If someone’s pulling strings, it’s certainly not that little head of hers.’

She might be his granddaughter, but Leticia was not a clever child.

Which meant—either someone was manipulating her, or…

‘Could it really be because of that “ability”?’

He remembered her voice from the day she had spoken of his retirement and the coming war—so sure of herself.

But could the awakening of some mysterious power really change a person so completely?

Margo found it hard to believe.

He set down the documents he had been reading.

“Bring her a chair. Everyone else, leave us.”

“Yes, sir.”

A servant brought a chair for Leticia.

She watched the motion quietly, then straightened as Margo cleared his throat.

He fiddled with the arm of his glasses before looking up.

“New tutors will arrive tomorrow.”

“Oh! Yes!”

Leticia’s eyes lit up, her face bright.

Margo studied that expression—those shining eyes that now looked so much like Charrière’s.

‘Or perhaps… her mother’s eyes.’

The fleeting memory of that long-lost face made him shut his eyes tightly and press his trembling eyelids with his fingers.

That small tremor in his hand—nothing new. He ignored it, as always, and looked up again.

“You wish to go to Onero?”

“Yes.”

“To earn the qualifications of an heir?”

At the direct question, she froze—then nodded after a long pause.

A slow, deliberate nod.

Margo sighed softly.

“…Very well,” he said at last, adjusting his glasses.

“But if I find you unworthy, I will cast you aside immediately.”