Chapter 58
Rudiche stood with her arms crossed, leaning slightly as she watched the carriage approach the mansion.
As expected of an imperial envoy, the carriage was splendid. Familiar knights were escorting it from the front and back.
It was the Ebnia Knights.
“How interesting,” Rudiche muttered, clearly displeased.
Important imperial events were always handled by the Ebron Knights, the “face” of the Empire—those who took on the most glamorous and high-profile duties.
The Ebnia Knights came next in rank—assigned to things like escorting someone all the way out to this distant duchy.
Rudiche recognized the man leading the escort at the front of the carriage.
Tobias Glück.
After Gudel had left the Ebnia Knights, Tobias had taken over as their commander. And now, he was here.
“If Tobias himself came to escort them… just who could it be?”
Frowning, Rudiche kept her eyes fixed on the procession.
“Do you think the Crown Prince sent them?”
Quinlan didn’t answer right away. Rudiche hadn’t expected one anyway.
They couldn’t know the reason until the visitors revealed it themselves.
In her previous life, Rudiche had lived and died within the Duke’s estate, so while she remembered the major events, she didn’t know all the small, trivial ones.
And since the duchy had never been reclaimed by her until her death, Rudiche had no idea who the imperial visitor might be now.
“Are you sure you’ll meet them alone?” Quinlan asked, worry showing on his face.
“It’s the duty of the Duchess to greet visitors to the ducal house,” she replied.
“That’s true, but still…”
Rudiche met his eyes and adjusted the collar of his coat, her voice soft and calm.
“I have a feeling this guest came here for me. So I should be the one to greet them.”
“…”
“Once we meet them, we’ll find out soon enough, don’t you think?”
“This might get troublesome.”
“Most likely.”
Quinlan sighed quietly.
When their eyes met, his hand twitched as if he wanted to reach for her—but he stopped himself, clenching his fist tightly instead.
“Don’t worry,” Rudiche said lightly. “If something happens, I’ll call for help.”
She had no intention of doing so, but lied with an effortless smile.
“You promise?”
“I’ll be back soon.”
Rudiche smiled and turned her gaze out the window. The carriage was almost at the mansion’s entrance.
After a brief glance, she left the room.
As she stepped outside, Phil, who had been waiting, bowed his head.
“Let’s go, Phil.”
Rudiche descended to the central hall.
It had been half a year since she arrived in Dfania.
This was the first visitor from the Imperial Palace—and she had a strong feeling it wouldn’t be someone to welcome gladly.
Just as Rudiche stepped out of the mansion, the carriage came to a stop.
Tobias dismounted, his expression blank, and bowed toward the people waiting to receive him.
Back when Rudiche was still in the Ebnia Knights, Tobias had often challenged her to sparring matches.
He’d claimed it was for practice, but everyone knew it was out of jealousy—because she had been close to Gudel.
Still, she’d heard he had matured somewhat since becoming the new commander after Gudel’s departure.
“It’s been a while… Duchess,” Tobias greeted awkwardly.
At least he wasn’t showing hostility anymore. That was something, Rudiche supposed.
“I didn’t think we’d meet again like this,” she said, smiling faintly.
“I was ordered to deliver an imperial decree, so I came personally.”
“Oh? Is it from the Crown Prince, or His Majesty himself?”
“…”
Tobias pressed his lips together, then took out a scroll from his breastplate.
It was sealed with the imperial crest and bound with a golden cord.
Rudiche frowned.
That meant it was indeed an imperial decree.
But not all such decrees were genuine—anyone with access to the seal could fabricate one. The golden cord, too, could be obtained in the palace.
“I see.”
Her smile turned wry as she took the decree, then looked past Tobias to the carriage.
It was lavish, proving its imperial origin.
The frame was reinforced and its ornaments gilded in gold.
“They must have crossed the western mountains to get here. How did this carriage make it over? It looks… expensive.”
Something about it made her uneasy. Perhaps whoever sent it had ties to the attackers they’d faced on their way here.
It was a far-fetched thought—but Rudiche couldn’t shake it.
Just then—
“Sir Tobias, could you open the door for me? I’d like to get out,” a delicate woman’s voice called from inside the carriage.
Rudiche’s eyes flicked toward it.
Tobias’s face stiffened.
Rudiche said nothing, just stared silently at the carriage.
In all the Empire, the highest-ranking woman was Rudiche Dfania herself.
For someone to make her stand outside while they gave orders from within was a breach of etiquette.
Tobias bowed his head to Rudiche, waiting for her permission.
Even if he carried an imperial order, he still had to await the Duchess’s command while on her land.
“Well, it’s not your fault,” Rudiche said dryly, nodding.
At her word, Tobias moved at once, opening the carriage door and offering his hand inside.
A pale, delicate hand rested on his, and a woman stepped out—wearing an extravagant dress.
Rudiche’s gaze sharpened immediately.
She knew this woman.
They’d never spoken, but she’d seen her at imperial banquets.
A woman with long, golden hair and innocent-looking eyes—
Erica Vasili.
In both her previous and current lives, she had been the woman the Emperor once intended to betroth to Quinlan.
Despite the long journey, Erica’s dress was immaculate—so low-cut it flaunted her full chest.
“Duchess,” Erica said, bowing slightly.
Erica Vasili was the only daughter of Count Vasili.
Though her family held little political power, her beauty was renowned across the Empire.
“It is an honor to meet you for the first time. I am Erica Vasili, sent to the duchy by imperial decree.”
At her gesture, the knight beside her stepped forward, holding another scroll.
Rudiche took it and unrolled it with elegant fingers. Erica flinched slightly.
The letter began simply:
“To the Duchess of Dfania.”
The handwriting was ornate, filling the page with elegant curves.
As Rudiche read, her expression hardened.
Meanwhile, Erica smiled sweetly—as if she already knew exactly what it said.
She waited patiently until Rudiche finished reading.
After a moment, Rudiche folded the letter and, without a word, handed it to the waiting Phil.
“Welcome to the duchy, Lady Vasili. Please, rest well during your stay.”
She tilted her head slightly and called out, “Sera.”
Sera hurried forward and bowed.
She had just returned from her studies under the Master of the Mage Tower for a short leave.
“Sera, please escort Lady Vasili to the guest chambers.”
“Yes, Lady Rudiche.”
Rudiche had just turned to leave when Erica spoke again.
“Duchess.”
Rudiche’s cold eyes met hers.
“That girl—she’s a half-blood, isn’t she?”
“—!”
The air froze.
Erica continued to smile sweetly, oblivious—or pretending to be.
“Oh, by her height and hair color, she must be part dwarf, right? A half-dwarf?”
Her tone was openly dismissive.
“Why is a half-breed showing me around? I am the daughter of a count! I cannot be guided by something so lowly.”
“Lowly…?”
Rudiche’s voice dropped, quiet and dangerous.
A flawless smile curved her lips—but her eyes were glacial.
The surrounding knights stiffened.
Those who had worked under Rudiche knew this expression well:
The more beautiful her smile, the deeper her fury.
Rudiche crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly. Her crimson hair shimmered under the light.
“I wasn’t aware that having one of my attendants escort a guest sent by imperial decree was a breach of etiquette. Is there a problem, Lady Vasili?”
