#13
Because it looked as if she was interrogating Count Wintaile, all eyes around turned toward Hera.
“What did you say?”
The Count looked at Hera with a displeased expression.
It was the first time she had ever seen that look on her father’s face.
“How… how could you divorce…?”
No matter what she said now, it would only sound feeble. Hera’s voice sank to the floor.
“Who are you?”
When Count Wintaile glared at Hera with icy eyes, her body froze on the spot.
Unable to say a word, Julian appeared from behind her and apologized in her stead.
“We’re terribly sorry, Count Wintaile. We came from Tolinga. I’m the eldest son, Julian, and this is the second, Emilia.”
Julian bowed his head slightly and spoke politely.
“Emilia has long admired the Wintaile family, and upon hearing such sad news, I fear we overstepped our bounds.”
“Children of Tolinga, are you?”
Not only the Count but also Ron and Marriott, standing beside him, stared intently at Hera.
The difference was that Marriott’s face was openly displeased, while Ron had his arms crossed and looked at Hera with curiosity.
The Count responded coldly to Julian’s hastily made-up excuse.
“This is my home, and today is to commemorate my daughter. I’d appreciate it if there were no disturbances.”
“We apologize, Count.”
Julian bowed briefly and quickly whispered into Hera’s ear.
He wanted to end the situation before the Count changed his mind and things escalated.
“Let’s go. Now.”
But Hera didn’t move as Julian had intended.
“Is it because of your daughter?”
“……”
“Did your daughter’s death cause your separation…?”
“You’ve crossed the line!”
Since Count Wintaile had no way of knowing that Emilia was actually Hera, her question was understandably shocking.
Unable to contain himself, he raised his voice.
His loud rebuke echoed through the salon, startling the gathered people.
Though still furious, the Count had enough rationality left to realize that yelling at a young noble lady his daughter’s age was unbecoming.
After taking a few deep breaths, he turned to Ron and Marriott and apologized.
“I need to rest. I have a headache.”
As he exited the salon, the butler, Barry Donnell, appeared as if to smooth things over.
“We’ve prepared dinner for our esteemed guests. Please remain here until the servants come to guide you.”
The nobles who resumed their conversations in the salon threw furtive glances at Hera and whispered.
They were likely gossiping about her behavior.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
Hera apologized to Julian, but her thoughts were consumed by her divorced parents.
Divorced? Why… was it really because of me?
If her death had indeed driven her parents apart, then perhaps it was better to tell them the truth.
To tell them that their daughter, Hera, was still alive, astonishingly living in Emilia’s body, might be the right thing.
After pondering for a while, Hera, out of habit, left the salon and ascended the central staircase. On the second floor was the room she used to stay in.
Her subconscious had led her there.
When she stood in front of her old room, the now-familiar blue text appeared before her eyes:
[The sacred relic Sword of Ijina has been detected.]
“There’s no way a sacred relic would be in this house.”
She recalled the contract.
The condition was to gather 44 treasures and 4 sacred relics.
Which meant relics were exceptionally hard to steal.
She had never once heard of a relic being in the Wintaile estate during her 22 years living there. Hera firmly denied it.
[Re-scanning…]
[The sacred relic Sword of Ijina has been detected.]
“That can’t be right…”
But the prophecy book was more resolute than Hera.
Even though she hadn’t yet declared her intention to steal the relic, it was already guiding her to its location.
Letting out a deep sigh, Hera reluctantly followed the book’s instructions.
It led her out of the main building, where her room was, and toward the western annex.
“I’ve never even been to this area before.”
Seeing that the book pointed to the innermost hallway of the west annex, Hera muttered quietly.
Although her father Larry Wintaile’s study was there and she had visited it often, she had never stepped into the other parts of the annex.
So for her, this North Sea Room—where the Sword of Ijina was kept—was completely unfamiliar.
“It’s open?”
The book pointed directly inside the North Sea Room.
Even from a distance, she could see the door was ajar, and Hera approached quickly.
“Marriott…!”
There was already someone inside.
Seeing a familiar man’s back, Hera quickly turned and pressed herself against the wall.
She covered her mouth with both hands, startled that she had blurted out his name.
Holding her breath, she strained to listen to what was happening inside. Since Marriott showed no reaction, she hadn’t been noticed.
What is he doing here? When did he even get here?
Thinking back, Marriott had already been gone from the salon when she left.
He couldn’t possibly have a prophecy book. So how had he gotten here?
Hera carefully shifted to peek inside the room.
That… is that the Sword of Ijina?
She saw an incredible sight.
The interior of the North Sea Room resembled a giant vault. A single golden sword floated in the air.
It wasn’t shaped like any sword Hera knew.
There appeared to be inscriptions or patterns etched along the blade.
It was too elegant and long to be a longsword, but too thick to be called a rapier. It seemed like something from another world.
Even Hera, who knew little about swords, could tell this one didn’t look like it was made to cut anything. The blade was dull and blunt.
Perhaps that’s what made it so mystical.
Does Marriott know something about this sword?
He stood silently, gazing intently at the floating sword.
He didn’t try to take it—only stared at it with intense eyes.
It almost looked like he and the sword were locked in a battle of wills.
[The sacred relic Sword of Ijina has been detected.]
The prophecy book, uninterested in this tension, proceeded with its task.
Just like when they had stolen Vanyole’s Teardrop from the Duke of Antony’s house, a blue rose petal floated up.
It would fly toward the relic.
Panicked, Hera caught the petal mid-air before Marriott could notice.
Then she warned the prophecy book sternly.
“He’ll notice!”
Scolded, the book made no further reaction.
She could steal it later, after Marriott left.
What mattered more was not letting him realize she was Blue Rose.
“I’ll find another chance during dinner. Let’s go back for now.”
She whispered to it softly and turned to leave.
“Who’s there?!”
From behind her came Count Wintaile’s voice.
“Father…?”
He approached with a furious look.
“You again?”
Between them lay the North Sea Room.
Worried that Marriott might be discovered, Hera quickly walked past the room and stood in front of her father.
Thanks to her quick thinking, the Count had to stop before he could see inside.
He glared at the politely bowing Hera with a terrifying face.
“Count Wintaile.”
“Is it not enough that you’ve poked at my family’s pain? Now you’re snooping through every corner of the estate?”
“I just… without thinking…”
She had successfully shielded Marriott, but couldn’t think of an excuse for herself.
Flustered, she stammered, and the Count pressed harder.
“Wandering near this room ‘without thinking’? Such a coincidence doesn’t exist.”
He narrowed his eyes at her menacingly.
“What are you trying to steal?”
Right now, in Emilia’s body, it shouldn’t matter how Larry Wintaile treated her.
But standing before her once-warm father, now cold and hostile, made it hard to stay calm.
“You’re mistaken. I would never…”
“Step aside.”
Before she could finish, the Count, now suspicious, tried to push past her and approach the North Sea Room.
Hera’s heart pounded violently.
Just one more step and he might see Marriott.
Think, Hera. Think of something to stop him.
And in that moment, like someone surfacing after holding their breath underwater, Hera took a deep breath and said—
