Chapter 11: How a Mercenary Enters the Castle (2)
At dawn, the castle staff were busy cleaning the duchess’s rooms.
Regina’s new room was prepared next to the duke’s—though they couldn’t share the usual connected suite because Allan had warned that Valentin’s episodes could be dangerous.
A young maid holding a duster waved at a torn curtain. “Madam Head Maid, the curtains here are ruined.”
Beimon, annoyed but uneasy, replied, “Fine. Find another set or stitch these. Just fix them.”
Beimon was troubled by having to call this low-born woman “Duchess.”
Some noble houses have married commoners—but they’re not hired killers.
At least she thought the news had reached the Renziénr family. The head of that house, Schubel, would probably arrive soon to deal with this situation.
A maid at the window pointed out, “Madam Head Maid, someone’s arriving on horseback. Must be the new duchess.”
“Looks mercenary, but… not ugly.”
“With better care for her skin and hair, she could be pretty.”
“Duchess? Lady?!” Beimon slapped the maid to silence her, then glared out.
She’s early, Beimon thought.
“Don’t serve her unless I order it!” Beimon commanded the servants.
Even though Regina was a mercenary-turned-lady, she had been brought by the duke—and in this messy house, she already had power.
Regina rode in and felt the servants’ heated stares—but she ignored them and spoke to Thomas first.
“I’ve arrived.”
“And you need directions?”
Thomas responded curtly, clearly displeased and distant. Regina, used to unkindness, didn’t bother responding.
Thomas sneered. “Honestly, I don’t like you.”
Regina replied coolly, “I didn’t come to be liked. I came to do my job.”
That angered him, and he added, lowly: “If a mercenary like you just gets in the way, I’ll cut you down.” He rested his hand on his sword.
Regina matched his stance; her hand hovered near her own blade.
He’s strong—he must have killed those assassins—she thought.
Yet she didn’t feel she’d lose.
Thomas advanced, then paused as Regina gestured to the servants’ cluster.
“Who’s really in the way right now?” she asked coldly.
Thomas faltered. Regina smiled. “Lead on.”
Thomas guided her inside. The castle was still shabby. Beimon’s face seemed fuller—evidence of her control over finances.
Thomas pushed on and led Regina to Valentin’s room. Inside was utter chaos: loud thuds, smashing sounds, and screams. A young maid cowered by the door as Valentin raged in the room.
Thomas called softly: “Get out. It’s dangerous here.”
Regina stepped in, her heart pounding. She saw Valentin—barefoot, his hair disheveled, trembling.
Their eyes met. She sensed fear and anger in his gaze.
“Allan will bring medicine. Stay with him—won’t you run away?”
Valentin was hurling things across the room. Thankfully only soft pillows flew—but it was clear this could have been bad.
She replied firmly, her voice low: “I’m not afraid. I won’t run.”
He snarled, “It’s like my body’s on fire!”
Without hesitation, Regina closed the distance, grabbed his arm, and calmly sat with him on the bed. His platinum hair fell aside—his violet eyes locked onto hers.
“There’s no fire, Your Grace.”
He froze. After thirteen years of acting mad, no one had ever dared sit on him while he had a fit. He stared, stunned, no longer able to move.
“Do you hear me?”
He nodded slowly. And for once, Regina saw not madness—but recognition.
Allan burst in with medicine. Regina took it from him, opened the cap, and gave it to Valentin.
“I’m sorry I climbed on you. I was afraid you’d hurt yourself.”
Valentin noticed glass shards scattered under the bed—and saw the terrified maid in the corner. He smiled.
Sure enough, she’s a real mercenary.
The fit passed like a storm. The head maid’s room assigned to Regina was a mess. No firewood on the hearth, and the bedding smelled old.
But Regina didn’t complain. It was just the beginning.
Beimon’s haughty voice entered the mess: “Is the room not to your liking?”
Regina smiled, silent.
Does she think I’m unfit? Even this room is treasure in my world.
Beimon probably sneered at her silence—thinking the mercenary-lady was out of her place.
Regina quietly observed the room layout. Even in this shabby state, a mercenary woman could turn it into gold.
Overall, despite Beimon’s haughtiness, Regina showed no displeasure—her mind focused on her mission.
