Chapter 16
The True Master
A chilling silence spread through the mansion. Not a single breath could be heard. Everyone present could hardly believe the scene unfolding before their eyes.
That young lady—the innocent young lady—had used violence. And not just anyone—against Mirva, the de facto head of this mansion!
Even the late duchess hadn’t dared act against Mirva. Partly because Mirva had once been the duchess’s maid, and partly because her worsening illness left her too weak to assert herself.
By nature, the women of this household were gentle, and they all assumed Diana would be the same.
“What… what is the meaning of this?!”
Mirva’s face flushed red. Her approach toward the small girl seemed threatening, but Diana met her gaze with an unbothered expression. At that calm, detached demeanor, those watching felt a shiver run down their spines.
“Don’t you realize what you’ve done?”
“Yes… what is this!”
Diana let out a small laugh. She did not enjoy violence—far from it. She despised it. But she knew very well that she could not afford to pick and choose her methods at this moment.
Punishment from Mirva was something she could only impose when she had the authority. Right now, she had no authority. Everyone in this house—even the butler—was Mirva’s ally.
“About the pearl necklace…”
“…….”
“Even though you knew Her Majesty the Queen hated pearl necklaces, why did you give it to me?”
“What are you saying!”
“……”
“You asked for it, young lady! You said you wanted it, and I told you no!”
From Mirva’s expression, anyone would think she was truly wronged. Diana let out another small laugh and shifted her gaze to the maids standing behind her. They avoided her eyes. They were accomplices.
“Really? Do you really think I wanted that?”
The maids eventually closed their eyes tightly.
“Yes… yes……”
“You did, didn’t you?”
Diana memorized their reactions. The maid who had injured her hand looked down and hesitated, as expected. Diana fixed her expression firmly. Then she spoke to Mirva, who wore a self-satisfied smirk:
“So?”
“Yes?”
“Even if I had wanted it, shouldn’t you have stopped me?”
Sometimes illogic must be met with illogic. Diana was making an unreasonable demand, much like a typical arrogant noble who considered herself above others.
“Mirva, that’s what a maid is supposed to do.”
“……That’s—if the young lady wanted it, I—!”
“Really? Then why do you restrict my actions so much? Isn’t that true?”
Mirva’s attempts to restrain Diana weren’t for Diana’s sake—they were to assert her own superiority by controlling the lady of the mansion.
“Say I threw a tantrum. But you didn’t stop me.”
“……Young lady, there’s a misunderstanding. I didn’t know the significance of the pearl necklace, or why you were angry!”
“And your ignorance only highlights your incompetence.”
All of Mirva’s excuses collapsed under Diana’s words. Attempting a rebuttal was futile. The more she spoke, the more she would be crushed. It was a battle she could never win. Officially, Mirva was only a maid serving Diana!
“Anything else you want to say?”
Diana’s employees, and Mirva, had clearly made a mistake in front of their true mistress.
As Diana methodically pointed out their failures, it became evident that Mirva had acted foolishly. The duke and the princes showed no interest in how the household was run, and the young lady of the house—weak and naive—would suppress her anger even when justified.
Because of this, no one had truly experienced the fear of unrestrained noble wrath. It was clear that continuing like this would only lead to further humiliation.
“Young lady, I apologize.”
Mirva knew she had no choice but to bow, despite not wanting to. Her cheek still burned from the girl’s slap, but the deeper sting came from humiliation and shame.
Diana watched this, then smiled brightly.
“Mirva, you don’t need to bow that much. I will, of course, forgive you.”
As Mirva grit her teeth and lifted her head, Diana glanced down at her with a faint smile. For a moment, her silver-gray eyes seemed transparent, revealing nothing of her thoughts. Unsettling.
“You must have been very tired recently. I can understand if you didn’t realize. Handling everything alone was too much for you.”
Her tone was gentle, but it pressed down like a giant weight. Diana turned and pointed to one of the maids with her hand.
“The head maid position is vacant. Let’s make that person the head maid. Divide the tasks.”
Fortunately or not, the maid pointed out was one of Mirva’s subordinates. She must have been chosen for her experience in the household.
“Butler, what do you think?”
“Ah… young lady, your suggestion is reasonable.”
The butler, stunned by Diana, nodded. Seeing the person in charge of household appointments agree, Mirva gritted her teeth.
“Thank you for your consideration, young lady.”
She smiled faintly. Not a noble, not anyone special… She clenched her fists, silently swearing to repay this humiliation one day.
The people of the household realized for the first time: Diana was the true mistress of this mansion, gradually growing into her role. Even if Mirva ruled like the late duchess, the true authority always prevailed. One slap was enough. That single slap was all it took for the perceptive to reassess the power structure.
It wasn’t bad. Mirva was cunning, but once Diana exploited a weakness, she immediately stepped back. If Diana had used a maid disliked by Mirva, she might have outright rebelled.
This humiliation alone was significant, so now was the time for her to retreat.
Returning to her room, Diana was surprised. A neat boy stood there. Black-haired, broad-shouldered, wearing a thin shirt and brown trousers—dressed in servant clothes, yet still exuding nobility.
It made sense. He was royalty. A refined dignity already surrounded him. Diana liked the strange grace Giskar carried. Dressed plainly, speaking plainly, the lowest of the low, yet behaving with the loftiness of the highest. Diana had always been captivated by that grace.
Hearing her approach, he turned. Giskar had just turned fifteen, no trace of baby fat remaining. His sunken cheeks made him look adult. Almost… like her husband.
“Are you feeling unwell?”
A polite question. Perhaps he had been thinking of his position while changing clothes. The arrogant, defiant gaze was gone, replaced by the same calm, cold demeanor she remembered from her previous life.
“I’m fine.”
Diana suppressed the surge of revulsion. No, he was not the adult Giskar yet. Her heart raced.
“Your clothes… they suit you.”
Her voice trembled. Diana composed herself and thought of what to say.
“Where are you from?”
She realized she had never asked about his past in her previous life. She had avoided it, fearing bad memories, and after marriage, there was no reason to ask.
“I’m from the Kingdom of Rodbrooke.”
“Then why are you a slave?”
Giskar said nothing. He only maintained a silent, distasteful expression.
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
Giskar nodded, saying no more. Their relationship didn’t have that level of trust. But she needed to know who his mother was, and why a prince of Rodbrooke had been given as a “slave” to the King of Panborough.
“Young lady, what would you have me do?”
Giskar asked. His tone suddenly became polite. He must have considered his position as a slave and what he should do. Diana had been considering this for a while.
“Learn the sword.”
“Huh?”
“Become an excellent warrior.”
Giskar was to become the hero-king who defeated the Wyvern. A genius swordsman. If fate dictated it, he would inevitably learn martial arts, and Diana could be the catalyst. Not a bad idea.
“A slave… a warrior?”
“Why not? Learn swordsmanship, and also attend to me.”
“My… attend to you, young lady?”
He frowned, clearly unhappy with this.
“I’ve told you several times—you’ve seen my situation.”
“…….”
“I have no one. I need your help.”
“……”
“Of course, I’m exploiting your position as a slave to force help, but what can I do? I want my mansion back.”
Giskar frowned, looking at Diana. His still-chubby cheeks made him seem childlike, yet his calm words sounded wise beyond his years.
“The maids will help you change my clothes, but in some cases, you may need to do it yourself. I’ll do my best to prevent that.”
Diana spoke as if pleading. Giskar looked at her, puzzled. Understandable—anyone would find it odd.
At that moment, there was a hurried knock.
“Young lady! Young lady! It’s urgent!”
What now? Had Mirva taken it out on the maids?
“What is it?”
Diana flung open the door. A maid with a panicked expression entered.
“It’s Prince Second. He wishes to see you urgently, young lady.”
