Chapter 92
Marsha thought quietly to herself.
Once Father’s matter is settled…
If they could find the culprit who killed the two men—no, even if they couldn’t—she hoped she might at least meet the miner’s surviving family.
If only I could see them right now…
They had lost their provider. Their circumstances must surely be dire.
Four years… how harsh those years must have been.
Just imagining it made her heart ache. Yet with her own abilities, there was nothing she could do for them. As for asking Claudio—he had already done more than enough for her.
If only there were something I could do myself…
A sigh slipped from her lips. Why was she so powerless? Always weak, always relying on others just to get by.
Will I ever grow?
Would there come a day when she could extend her hand to someone else in need?
Marsha pictured such a future and smiled bitterly. No matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn’t imagine herself that way.
***
It had already been five days since Claudio’s departure.
On a calm morning, a maid came to Marsha.
“My lady, a letter has arrived from the Severia Marquisate.”
“Really?”
What could it say? Perhaps Dr. Sheldon had finally finished his busy schedule and was summoning her?
Heart fluttering, Marsha opened the envelope and unfolded the stiff sheets inside.
Ah.
The letter was from the Marchioness of Severia. She wrote that she had ordered a custom perfume and asked Marsha to come collect it in person.
Marsha tilted her head.
Strange. Couldn’t she just send a maid?
Why ask her specifically?
Oh… perhaps she simply wants to see me?
It wasn’t unusual for noblewomen to disguise a request for a visit in roundabout ways.
I thought she was more direct in personality, like His Grace… Was I mistaken?
In any case, it wasn’t a request Marsha could refuse. She had no particular plans today.
She prepared to go out at once. When she stepped to the entrance hall, a carriage was already waiting. Without hesitation, she walked toward it, but the maid following behind her spoke with concern.
“I’m sorry, my lady. Normally the butler would have come to see you off, but he must be busy—he hasn’t been informed yet.”
“Thank you for the thought. But really, there’s no need for the butler to escort me just for an outing.”
Marsha answered with a gentle smile.
Even after she boarded, the maid still looked troubled that the butler hadn’t appeared.
“Truly, it’s fine. Please don’t dwell on it.”
At Marsha’s kind tone, the maid’s face finally softened. Marsha smiled back at her.
Honestly, I could have gone alone…
But the maid had insisted otherwise.
[Especially since you had that business with Lady Beatrice of Hermes. Even if I wasn’t much help that time, surely it’s better than going by yourself.]
With such insistence, how could Marsha refuse?
Surely I won’t be meeting Lady Beatrice again today…?
No—unless the women were deliberately watching the Gloria household.
Actually… she might.
Even so, it didn’t matter. Marsha wasn’t afraid of Beatrice. But she certainly didn’t intend to waste her time entertaining a madwoman again.
When she arrived at the shopping district, she blinked in surprise at the crowds. She had glimpsed it before, but hadn’t realized it was this bustling. There wasn’t even space to stop the carriage nearby, so they had to park at a distance.
Marsha and the maid made their way toward the perfume shop. It wasn’t far, but the throng of people slowed them down.
“Welcome,” the shop clerk greeted warmly.
The maid spoke first.
“The Marchioness of Severia asked us to collect her perfume order.”
“…Pardon?”
The clerk looked startled.
“The Marchioness does purchase our perfumes from time to time, but to my knowledge she hasn’t placed an order recently.”
“What? But she…”
As the maid faltered, Marsha produced the letter bearing the Severia seal. The clerk, flustered, examined it and tilted his head.
The seal is genuine…
And yet he could recall no such order. Someone of the Marchioness’s standing would never be forgotten. To be sure, he checked the records—but there was nothing.
“I’m terribly sorry. I’ve checked thoroughly, but there’s no record of an order.”
The clerk apologized repeatedly. It was far more likely the Marchioness herself had erred, but if she refused to admit it, the blame would fall entirely on the shop. If she took offense, they would be ruined.
“May I prepare something similar instead? Perhaps one of her usual violet-based scents?”
Understanding his predicament, Marsha nodded. The clerk quickly wrapped the perfume and handed it to her with profuse thanks.
Once they stepped outside, Marsha pressed her lips together.
This was odd. From the letter itself to the nonexistent order—none of it sat right.
Was it really a mistake? Or… something else?
The maid spoke.
“My lady, perhaps it would be best to return home and send a letter to the Marchioness.”
So she too sensed something a miss. Marsha nodded.
“Then please hold the perfume for me.”
“Yes, my lady.”
Just as Marsha went to pass it over—
“Oh!”
“Ah!”
A boy barreled into her, knocking the bottle from her grasp. It would surely shatter on the ground—but a small, ragged hand snatched it from the air.
“S-sorry!”
The child held it out to her.
Marsha’s eyes widened, her gaze trembling. Not because the bottle was saved. Not because she was hurt.
It was the ring on the boy’s thumb.
Father’s ring…
Could she be mistaken? No. That gemstone was far too rare. There was no chance of error.
Instinctively, Marsha reached for it. The boy jerked back, clutching it to his chest. His frightened eyes met hers as she whispered,
“Where did you get that?”
“….”
Instead of answering, the boy bolted into the crowd.
“Stop!”
“My lady!”
The maid rushed after her, but at that moment a group of burly men pushed through the street.
“E-excuse us!”
By the time she forced her way past them, Marsha was gone.
“My lady!”
Her desperate cry rang out.
Meanwhile, Marsha had pursued the boy into a narrow, deserted alley.
“You—!”
The boy stood trembling, eyes darting nervously. Why had he stopped running? A chill of foreboding washed over her, but Marsha steadied herself, approaching slowly. She meant to ask calmly about the ring.
But she never got the chance.
Creak… creak…
A strange sound came as the alley wall shifted.
What…?
The wall swung open, and a man stepped out with a crooked smile.
“Welcome, Lady Railford.”
Marsha had never seen Petricks before, but she knew at once this was no ordinary situation. She spun to flee, but he lunged and clamped a hand over her mouth.
“Running away, are we…?”
“Mmph!”
Marsha thrashed with all her strength, but his grip silenced her, trapped her.
“Ah, that’s right. Not Lady Railford… Lady Emelide, wasn’t it?”
He chuckled and dragged her inside. Behind them, his subordinate worked the pulley to restore the wall as though nothing had changed.
In the alley, only the boy remained. His face darkened as he toyed with the ring. Whispering to himself that it wasn’t his fault, he hurried away.
But—
“Ahhh!”
A hand seized him by the scruff before he got far.
***
That same day, after speaking with Beatrice, Petricks returned to his shop. All day, he pondered how to finish the matter flawlessly.
This must succeed.
Then inspiration struck. If it worked as he envisioned, he could not only strike back at those who had humiliated him, but also win Beatrice’s love.
Luring Marsha had been simple. Copying the Severia seal was nothing, and drawing her to his location had been child’s play.
And I had the ring, after all.
The wedding ring he had taken on the day her father died—never pawned, never discarded, simply stashed away.
Who could have imagined it would one day prove so useful?
Unlock soon!~