Chapter 3
“Are you really not going to talk? I don’t want to do this either. Just say you’re leaving—that’s all it takes!”
Smack!
“Ugh—!”
“Do you only come to your senses when you see blood? At this rate, you could die and no one would even know! Not even your master! It’d just be a dog’s death!”
Neril squeezed her eyes shut as the whip struck again.
Jena, who had been lashing her, clicked her tongue in irritation.
It seemed she didn’t realize that Neril’s silent refusal only fueled her stubborn rage.
“Fine. Let’s see how long you can keep your mouth shut.”
“Ghk—!”
Another blow fell, forcing a groan from her.
“You’re suffering because you chose the wrong master. What a loyal little knight you are!”
Master…
Is Her Highness alright?
Neril stared blankly into the air.
When the princess had lost consciousness with blood running down her forehead, her heart had dropped.
She has to be safe…
If she had woken up, would she notice Neril was gone?
Would she look for her?
Neril let out a hollow laugh.
She had never been affectionate like the other maids.
She was blunt, spoke only what was necessary, and never sugarcoated her words.
Medeia had disliked her for that.
Knowing that, her faint hope now felt ridiculous.
“Does it hurt, unni? Should Dea give you this? Don’t cry.”
From the moment those small, childish hands had saved her long ago—
a memory the princess herself likely didn’t even remember—
Neril had decided to dedicate her life to Medeia.
“Why don’t you come work under me?”
“Stop bothering her. That Neril—she caught the young princess’s eye and ended up being selected for the royal guard instead of being dismissed.”
That was why she wanted to stay by her side.
She wanted, even a little, to repay what she had received.
If I’m not there… will Her Highness be able to survive in this palace?
That thought spiraled into a long, unending worry.
This place was a den of monsters.
The regent duke, the queen dowager—even the lowest servants wished for the young princess’s downfall.
“You could really die like this, and I wouldn’t care!”
Whip—!
Under the repeated lashes, her vision blurred.
Her mind began to fade.
Just as Neril forced her eyes open, trying to stay conscious—
A small figure flickered before her eyes.
Was it the princess?
Or was death finally approaching?
“…Your Highness?”
But the vision didn’t disappear.
It stood right in front of her.
Neril blinked.
“How did you—?!”
Jena’s shocked voice echoed faintly.
Crash!
The princess snatched the whip from Jena and threw it to the ground.
The illusion became reality.
“What do you think you’re doing?!”
Jena shouted, momentarily forgetting she was speaking to royalty.
She flinched—but quickly relaxed when she realized it was Medeia.
“That’s what I should be asking.”
The princess’s voice was colder than ever.
“Who gave you permission to take my maid and beat her like this?”
“N-No, Your Highness! It’s a misunderstanding—I was just— Wait, who let Your Highness in here?! Who?!”
As Jena’s voice rose in panic, Medeia gave an order to the maid standing behind her.
“Bring Neril.”
The maid hesitated.
Everyone in the palace knew Jena was the right hand of the head maid, Madam Quisin.
If someone like her fell out of favor with the head maid, their life in the palace would become unbearable.
“Now.”
“Y-Yes!”
But right now, the one holding her fate was Medeia.
Even if she was a “half-blood” princess—she was still royalty.
Losing favor with royalty meant expulsion from the palace altogether.
Better hardship than losing her livelihood.
Having made her decision, the maid rushed to help Neril up.
Her condition was horrific.
After being whipped for more than half a day, it was a miracle she was still alive.
“Ugh…”
“Oh my…”
The maid gasped—Neril’s right arm was twisted unnaturally. Her elbow was badly swollen.
“…Ha.”
Medeia let out a cold laugh upon seeing her state.
“Who do you think you are, taking her away like this? You! Put her down!”
Jena snapped at the maid.
“Then answer me. Who gave you the authority to do this?”
“……”
Under Medeia’s cold gaze, Jena instinctively shrank.
Her green eyes gleamed sharply.
This was a woman who had slain countless beasts and dragons, who had survived imperial power struggles.
Even in the body of a young girl, the killing intent honed on battlefields was not something a mere maid could withstand.
What kind of child has eyes like that… like she could devour someone…?
Had the princess always been like this?
She couldn’t remember—Medeia had always kept her head lowered, eyes on the ground.
“Take her.”
Jena trembled like prey before a predator.
“N-No…! What are you all doing?!”
More servants gathered, drawn by the commotion.
But none dared step forward under the oppressive aura the princess emitted.
“You—you can’t leave!”
Desperate, Jena tried to block Medeia with her body.
At that moment, a middle-aged woman stepped forward, parting the crowd.
“Your Highness, what is the meaning of this… disgraceful behavior?”
She picked up the fallen whip and handed it to Jena.
It was Madam Quisin, the head maid.
After the previous head maid retired, she had taken the position despite her modest background and experience.
Behind her stood Medeia’s uncle—the Claudio ducal family.
She and the minister were his hands and feet. Without them, he couldn’t have controlled the palace.
She had made Medeia’s life in the palace miserable.
Replacing everything in the princess’s quarters with cheap imitations, embezzling funds, then blaming Medeia for extravagance—such things were routine.
Targeting Neril now was likely to isolate Medeia completely.
“Your Highness, the attendants will escort you back safely. You’ve just risen from your sickbed—you must not overexert yourself.”
With a mocking smile, the head maid didn’t even wait for a response.
“Why are you all standing around? Escort Her Highness—”
“Head maid.”
Medeia cut her off sharply.
“Why did you secretly take my maid and have her whipped?”
“……”
“Without trial, without investigation—just punishment? Since when did the royal household operate like this?”
The unexpected question made Quisin raise an eyebrow.
This timid princess, who couldn’t even stand up to servants, was raising her voice?
“Your Highness, with all due respect, before they are your maids, they are under my jurisdiction. As the one responsible for serving the bloodline of Valdina, I must manage them properly.”
She answered firmly.
“That child, Neril, neglected her duty to serve the royal bloodline—and even caused Your Highness to be injured. Her crime is not light.”
She sighed openly, as if lecturing a fool.
“We exist to serve Valdina’s bloodline above all else. We are merely doing our duty. Does that answer your question?”
Though she called herself a servant, her eyes held clear contempt.
Ah, how unfair the gods were.
Why must someone as capable as her bow to such a worthless girl?
“Now then, escort the princess back.”
“Head maid.”
“…Yes, Your Highness?”
“Listening to you, something feels strange.”
Medeia spoke quietly.
“You keep saying you serve the bloodline of Valdina.”
“Yes. That is my duty.”
“But as you know, there is more than one bearer of that blood.”
Quisin paused, staring at her.
The girl who had supposedly just risen from bed had unnervingly sharp eyes.
“Nearby alone, there’s the Queen Dowager, my uncle Duke Claudio, Princess Lauren, Count Montega, and their children… far too many to count on both hands.”
Medeia’s expression remained blank.
“So tell me, head maid—who does your loyalty belong to?”
Silence fell.
“Among all those of Valdina’s blood… which one?”
