Chapter 21
The butler, even as he tried to hold the marquis back, deep inside wanted to push him toward the Nostri estate as quickly as possible. He knew better than anyone that the young lady he served would never write such a letter, even as a joke. To say he wasn’t worried would be a lie.
Having watched Charlotte grow from the time she toddled through the halls of the marquis’ manor until now, part of him wanted to immediately pack the marquis’ bags and send him on his way. But tomorrow was an important day that he absolutely could not miss: the homecoming ceremony.
When the knights returned after long stays in foreign lands or countries, the temple held a homecoming ceremony for them. And this time, after completing the great mission of purifying Leopold’s stronghold, the ceremony would be even grander. Even though Marquis Blanche had retired, he was to attend the blessing ceremony as well, at the high priest’s request. And yet the marquis was saying he wanted to abandon all of it and go to Charlotte!
“She left for Nostri almost a month ago.”
“But Charlotte isn’t the kind of child who would write such a letter as a prank.”
“That’s true. But still… this is no ordinary event—it is Lord Theodore’s homecoming. Lady Charlotte can be visited tomorrow, or even the day after, but Lord Theodore’s homecoming will not happen again.”
The butler loved Charlotte, but he also cherished Theodore. What he said was not wrong. He could go to Charlotte right after the ceremony, but Theodore’s homecoming was something that, once missed, could never be repeated. Though Marquis Blanche worried deeply about Charlotte, he also did not want to miss the return of his late son’s final disciple. In the end, he let out a deep sigh from his chest.
“Prepare the carriage to leave right after the ceremony.”
“How long do you plan to stay, my lord?”
“I can’t be away too long… but I’ll stay at least three days. Ah, and when you pack, make sure you include this.”
“…Yes, my lord?”
“My sword.”
“Why would you bring that?”
“There’s no reason to use it, but still… one never knows.”
Against whom…? The butler almost asked, but then fell silent, lips pressed tight. All he could do was pray that the young lady had simply made a mistake in her letter.
“Such a refreshing scent of flowers.”
“Yes, Saintess. The white hydrangeas and roses for the homecoming have arrived. To keep them from wilting, we’re floating them in water for now. At dawn, they’ll be woven onto the poles lining the road.”
“Oh, how beautiful that will be.”
“And the lily-of-the-valley you suggested for the platform was such a wonderful idea. Pots of them will be placed on either side of the staircase leading up to the dais. It will look so radiant and lovely.”
“Fufu, I wonder if the knights will like it.”
Rieta let out a small, graceful laugh. Truly befitting her title as “saintess,” her gestures were neither exaggerated nor plain, her modestly downturned eyes and shy smile almost seemed to shine with a holy radiance. She was beautiful.
So much so that even the maid attending her blushed at the sight. And though Rieta had always been striking, she had grown even more beautiful in recent days. There was a reason.
Preparations for the knights’ welcome were nearly complete, save for decorations that had to be hung on the day itself.
First would come the blessing ceremony, then the homecoming. The knights would receive blessings at the temple before proceeding to the imperial palace’s grand hall for the celebration.
Along the entire route, imperial banners had been hung and the streets decorated with white flowers symbolizing victory and glory. Crowds of imperial citizens had already gathered, eager to see the knights, so no more embellishment was needed.
The sound of victory trumpets and the roar of joyous voices would fill the air well enough.
Humming softly, Rieta gazed into the mirror. Everything else was perfect, so she too had to be perfect—more than perfect.
For someone like Rieta, who once smuggled in poisonous plants to drive Charlotte away, concealing cosmetics was nothing compared to prayer.
Makeup was forbidden, but she secretly dabbed on perfume and dusted her eyes with a hint of golden shimmer. She couldn’t risk obvious colors or dyes, so she kept it subtle, invisible.
At the blessing ceremony, she would place her hand on the kneeling knight’s forehead, channeling divine power. When he approached, she wanted him to catch her scent. And when he looked up at her from his kneeling position, she wanted her face to dazzle him. Especially him—Theodore.
That man who, unlike me, doesn’t try to erase his past but instead earns everyone’s respect solely through his own strength, becoming Captain of the Holy Knights.
Rieta suddenly realized she was thinking of Theodore again, and her cheeks flushed. Good heavens—she had never even met him, not even seen his face! Yet since the high priest had told her about him, she couldn’t stop thinking of him. She had heard that he was not only handsome, but also kind and warm toward those around him…
No, Rieta. Rieta Rosanac. You are a saintess. You must not let yourself dwell on thoughts of another man. …Still, I’ll see him again after the blessing, when I accompany the high priest. That much should be fine, shouldn’t it?
Even as she tried to scold herself, whenever her mind wandered, she drifted back to the thought of Theodore—a man she had never met but imagined as so noble. With a small squeal, she buried her face in her hands, muttering, “I wish tomorrow would come quickly.”
Aria’s clinginess had grown worse. She had always been affectionate, but now she refused to let Charlotte out of her sight even for a moment.
One day, Charlotte had stepped out briefly while Aria still slept late into the morning. When Aria woke and didn’t see her, she burst into tears and stumbled out of the bedroom calling for her. By the time Charlotte rushed back, the girl’s sleeves were soaked from wiping her eyes.
Aria had once enjoyed staying with Anna as well, but ever since attending Baroness Vervel’s tea party, she refused even to be held by her. Not that she disliked Anna—she simply began to cry if Charlotte wasn’t in view.
“Aria, Aria. What’s wrong, sweetie?”
Charlotte had no experience raising a child and didn’t know what to do. She even wrote to Viscountess Rosy for advice on Aria’s behavior, and though the lady kindly shared suggestions, none worked. In the end, Charlotte simply held Aria in her arms all day long.
Anna insisted they shouldn’t spoil the girl with constant indulgence, but when Aria stopped crying and laughed so brightly in Charlotte’s arms, how could she resist? Besides, before the child was adopted, Charlotte wanted her to have nothing but happy memories.
After all, Aria had already been abandoned in Nostri and attacked by wild beasts… she shouldn’t have to carry those scars. So Charlotte gently brushed through her soft, wavy hair as Aria sat on her lap.
“Mommy.”
“Yes?”
“I like being with Mommy.”
“But you’re with Mommy right now.”
“I want to be with Mommy always, always!”
Charlotte only smiled silently. I want that too… but I can’t. She swallowed the words, gripping the comb tighter. Then, beneath the fall of her hair, she noticed something strange on Aria’s nape.
A wound… on Aria’s neck?
Pretending to smooth her hair aside, Charlotte checked again. It was a thin, long scratch, like a fingernail mark. From the way it had scarred, it seemed quite old.
But why didn’t I notice before? I bathe with her every day—I should have seen it sooner.
Just as she puzzled over the injury’s origin, Aria suddenly burst into laughter.
“The duke!”
“Hm?”
“Mommy, the duke is here!”
At that very moment, there was a knock at the door. It was Anna.
“My lady, Duke Valiant is here.”
Charlotte’s brow furrowed slightly at the news of Ash’s visit. Whatever the reason, facing someone who had lied to her was difficult. For someone who had already been deeply wounded by others, this kind of situation was not welcome. Her chest already felt heavy.
Did she hate Ash? No, not exactly. But she disliked these uncomfortable, awkward moments.
Letting out a long sigh, Charlotte hugged Aria tightly, burying her face against the child’s sweetness, like sugar. She rubbed her face playfully against her, making Aria giggle.
“Aria, how did you know the duke was here?”
“A bird told me!”
“A bird told you?”
Aria often said strange things like that. Children often did, so Charlotte thought little of it. What mattered more was how she should compose herself before Ash. However much she disliked his lies, she didn’t want to show it openly.
“Would you like to go to the drawing room with Anna first? Mommy will come soon.”
“Okay!”
After sending Aria off, Charlotte quietly went to the powder room. She rubbed at the corners of her mouth, stiff with tension, coaxing them upward into a smile.
She couldn’t keep Ash waiting. She must hurry. But just as she turned from the mirror, she heard a sudden clack—the sound of a latch snapping open—coming from the window. Instinctively, Charlotte turned her head.
Was the window left open?
Cold air seeped in through the gap. Normally, she always kept the windows shut, except when airing the rooms, to keep Aria from catching a chill.
Perhaps the latch had broken. Though beautiful, Styria Castle had been built in her parents’ youth and had its share of rust and decay—especially the iron windows, prone to frost damage.
“What is this…?”
She murmured without thinking. On the latch was a smear of something black and sticky. She reached out, then recoiled at the strange odor that brushed her nose.
Though she hadn’t even touched it, the acrid smell of burning filled the room—thick and overwhelming.
There was nothing flammable there. Why would it smell like this? And then she noticed something peculiar: from within the sticky mass protruded what looked like a sharp quill.
Grabbing a handkerchief from the vanity, Charlotte carefully pinched it and lifted. The black sludge clung as it came free, wet and viscous. At first she couldn’t tell what it was—until she saw clearly.
“This is…”
Charlotte stared blankly at the handkerchief in her grasp. Inside was a feather.
