~Chapter 5~
Since my last visit to the administrative hall, I had done nothing but lounge idly in my chambers.
Peaceful days passed by—so tranquil they almost bordered on dull.
I ate the exquisite meals the maids brought at set hours, read piles of books cushioned by my adorable gold coins, and drifted through a paradise I’d once only dreamed of.
Yet even amid such bliss, something in my heart felt strangely hollow.
“I wonder how they’re doing…”
Even as a child—and perhaps even now—I had never trusted people easily.
Instead, I had always preferred the company of stray animals.
The warmth of the dogs and cats that nestled in my arms had been the only comfort for that lonely, forsaken girl I once was.
Now, unable even to visit my parents’ graves, the longing to check on my old companions grew stronger each day.
But I’ll need a proper excuse.
It wasn’t the act itself that would cause trouble—it was how I did it.
If I wanted to avoid suspicion from the inquisitors, I needed a plausible reason.
And that was the problem.
Elicia absolutely loathed animals.
She was infamous for her cruelty, but her hatred of animals was the stuff of legend.
Years ago, she’d received a canary as a gift from her cousin, the First Princess.
For reasons known only to her, Elicia had snapped the poor bird’s neck, torn off its wings, and sent it back.
The First Princess fainted on the spot—at the Founding Festival Banquet, no less.
Why, of all things, did she have to hate animals?
If she’d hated people, I could’ve played the role convincingly.
Still, I was as clever as ever, and it didn’t take long to devise a perfect excuse—not only to check on my little strays, but to care for them regularly.
I tucked the books scattered over my bed into corners around the room, then calmly pulled the bell cord.
“You called, My Lady?”
“I’m tired of lying around all day. I’m going out.”
“Shall I accompany you?”
“No need. Go fetch that mustached man from the administration hall. Tell him if he drags his feet, I’ll rip every hair from his lip.”
“My Lady, are you certain about this?”
I turned from the window, where the scenery blurred by.
Baron Comte, his whiskers trembling with anxiety—and perhaps for their safety—had rushed to answer my summons faster than a startled cat.
“Wouldn’t it be wiser to visit somewhere inside the inner walls instead?”
“No. This is fine.”
The carriage jolted violently once we passed beyond the outer gate.
Even the finest coach couldn’t soften the blows of an unpaved road.
Clutching the seat handle like a lifeline, the baron persisted.
“The people outside the walls are crude, uncultured… not the kind Your Grace should associate with.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t plan on associating with any humans.”
“Hu—humans? Ah! Yes, indeed! Quite right, My Lady!”
I smirked in satisfaction at how quickly he caught on.
Even filth can serve a purpose, if you know where to use it.
Comte was corrupt enough to be useful—possessing just enough power, shamelessness, and adaptability to navigate the rigid northern nobles.
I never imagined I’d find value in that.
Resting my chin on my hand, I asked idly,
“The commoners are shouting curses at my name, aren’t they?”
“Th—that is…”
“I’m not blaming them. It’s only natural.”
I looked away with a feigned sigh.
In truth, I just wanted to bury my face in a cat’s fur—but the image of the Inquisition’s burning eyes helped me restrain myself.
“So today, I thought I’d visit a monastery and show my benevolent side as the Duchess. If I’m to live here, I might as well make peace with the people.”
“Then… the feed you ordered us to prepare—?”
“To win hearts, of course. Who could dislike a lady who loves animals?”
The baron’s eyes widened as he realized my intent.
A public act of charity—visiting the monastery that served as both hospital and shelter—and a display of compassion toward animals. A perfect image-building campaign.
Well, that’s the excuse. In truth, I just want to see my furry friends again.
Monks there cared for both people and beasts; stray animals often lingered near the monastery.
It was the ideal place to find them.
Unaware of my true motive, Baron Comte began to gush.
“Brilliant, My Lady! Truly brilliant!”
“Naturally. So make sure you do your part well. If things go smoothly, I’ll make it worth your while.”
“W-worth it?! Impossible! Serving you is its own reward!”
I ignored his lies and smiled faintly, thinking of soft fur and wagging tails.
At first, I only fed them once in a while… but I suppose I cared more than I realized.
A wistful ache filled my chest as I remembered their tiny paws pattering toward me at the village gate.
The carriage finally stopped before the monastery outside the walls.
It was shabby and weatherworn, nothing like the splendid inner-city sanctuaries—but as I stepped down, a wave of nostalgia struck me.
The monks and nuns here had cared deeply for the orphaned girl I once was. Their kindness remained vivid in my memory, as if it had happened only yesterday.
“We greet Her Highness, Princess of the Valdin Empire.”
“Just call me ‘My Lady.’ I belong to Lombard now.”
The monks bowed hastily, faces pale with surprise.
At their head stood the elderly abbot.
“I am Filio, head of this monastery. We are honored by your gracious visit.”
His attempt at ceremony was awkward—small wonder. A rural monk rarely had cause to receive a noblewoman, let alone one of imperial blood.
Yet the unease in his eyes wasn’t only reverence.
How could I possibly throw tantrums in front of Father Filio?
He was practically family.
Noticing my unexpectedly calm demeanor, Filio’s expression softened.
“Forgive me for asking, My Lady, but what brings you to such a humble place?”
“As the Duchess of Lombard, I wish to serve and care for those less fortunate. It is my duty—a sacred one, born of compassion.”
A sliver of conscience screamed in protest, but I ignored it.
“Ah… charity work,” someone muttered behind him, skepticism dripping from their tone.
Most outer-wall monasteries doubled as hospitals for the poor. Their doubt—can she really tend to the sick?—hung heavy in the air.
I simply smiled.
“Don’t worry. Give me any task you like.”
“In that case… please, come inside.”
Of course, everyone knew they wouldn’t dare assign the Duchess any menial work.
I followed Filio indoors, planning to slip away later and search for my beloved strays.
As I walked, the gathered monks and patients parted wordlessly, creating a path.
The hostility here is thick enough to touch.
If air had form, it would have torn at my skin.
No one spoke, but their gazes were sharp and full of contempt.
‘Look at her, getting in the way.’
‘Trying to play saint for attention.’
‘Let’s teach her a lesson. Maybe spill some pus-soaked bandages her way.’
‘She’ll scream and flee. With luck, we’ll never see her again.’
I could almost hear their whispers.
Even Filio looked uneasy, and Baron Comte, beside me, fidgeted with forced smiles.
But I didn’t mind.
They’re not hating me. They’re hating Elicia.
As long as I kept that distinction clear, it didn’t bother me at all.
If anything, I almost wanted to join them.
“This way, My Lady.”
“Of course.”
Once inside, I rolled up my sleeves and washed my hands thoroughly—scrubbing between each finger, cleaning under every nail with soap and water.
Father Filio froze mid-motion, staring at me as though I’d just performed a miracle.
“M-My Lady…?”
