Episode 51
“Actually, I also…”
“I understand where he’s coming from.”
“Pardon? Countess Dallio?”
“I can’t speak for the old rumors since I’ve never met the young lady before. But the recent Miss Blake, I’ve met several times, and I understand what Baron Rosé meant.”
“That you say so… Did something happen?”
Countess Dallio gave a solemn nod.
“It’s a personal matter, so I can’t go into details. But what I can say is—once she opens her heart to someone, the young lady is far more kind than you’d expect.”
Confusion spread across the nobles’ faces. Countess Dallio defending her? That wasn’t something easily dismissed.
She’d long dominated the world of commerce, and her reputation was built on trust. If someone like her publicly sided with someone, it carried weight.
“That’s just how I personally felt. But still, isn’t it true that if you approach someone with bias, you’ll only ever see their worst side? People are complex, and different personalities suit different people. So perhaps it’s not a bad idea to meet someone yourself and judge after that.”
She smiled with grace. The noble smile seemed almost noble enough to be painted, and some nobles coughed awkwardly, while others avoided her gaze.
In truth, nobles liked to act refined, but most of them had skeletons in their closets. It wasn’t rare knowledge.
So to rely solely on rumors and consistently look down on a young noble lady—many were suddenly embarrassed at themselves.
As the members of the Blake family exited the temple alongside Albert Rosé, people’s eyes lingered on their backs.
In particular, the Empress—who had been speaking with Bella—followed them with a slow, calculating gaze.
Tap, tap. Fingers tapped the table at a steady pace—but despite the relaxed rhythm, they seemed tense.
“So, Count Dallio was the one who exposed the slave trader?”
The Empress, Harlin, asked quietly, her voice subdued. The maid reporting to her bowed even lower.
“Yes. He went as far as to report it himself and is now cooperating with the investigation.”
“Well, how fortunate for him.”
“But…”
Tap. The sound stopped. Silence fell. The maid swallowed hard, stealing a glance at Harlin.
“It was confirmed that the Countess sent an urgent letter just before the Count set sail. And the timing of the letter—it was right after she met with Miss Blake.”
“She met Louisa Blake?”
“Yes. It was a tea party invitation, but apparently there was a moment where the Countess and Miss Blake spoke privately.”
“And immediately after, she sent the urgent letter?”
“Yes.”
“…That’s too much of a coincidence to chalk up to luck. How could Louisa Blake have known such information, and why would the Countess send such a message right after that? How curious.”
“We tried to confirm the contents of the letter, but the Count burned it on the spot. We were unable to recover it.”
A painted smile curved Harlin’s lips. It was a noble expression—almost a textbook image of grace. But in contrast, her rose-red eyes gleamed with a chilling sharpness.
“…She’s becoming more and more of a nuisance.”
This empire had too many power players.
The Emperor was at the top, of course, but beneath him were far too many bothersome people—people unlikely to ever clear the way for her plans.
The slave trade had been her idea—a way to secretly store up power for her only hope for the future. And if anything got in the way, she was just as quick to discard it.
So when word reached her that a slave deal in a foreign land had been uncovered, her immediate order was to use the scandal to bring down the powerful.
There were still many secret dealings to push forward. But Gloria Trading Company held too great a share of the market.
They’d dominated commerce for so long that it was difficult for any new trading group to wedge their way in. That made running covert operations annoyingly complicated.
At first, she’d considered absorbing them into her fold—but anyone who’d maintained a controversy-free, prestigious position for that long was bound to become a threat sooner or later.
So, even if she couldn’t destroy Count Dallio completely, she’d planned to tarnish him with the slave trade scandal—either to foster a new rising merchant group, or to manipulate the Count in his moment of despair.
That had been the plan, and yet…
“…Miss Blake was supposed to be terminally ill, wasn’t she?”
“Yes. But apparently, she’s improved significantly after undergoing Eastern-style treatments. Whether it’s temporary or a real cure… we’re still trying to confirm.”
“How long will that take?”
“I’m sorry.”
“And while we’ve been ‘trying to confirm,’ it seems my eldest son has grown close to that girl. What do you make of that?”
“I’m sorry…”
Harlin tilted the maid’s chin with a delicate finger.
Her refined smile remained fixed like a porcelain mask, but the haughty look in her eyes betrayed not an ounce of mercy.
“It seems I’ll need to step in for the sake of my poor, soft-hearted son.”
She’d never expected Raphael—who once showed disgust, even hatred, toward Louisa—to suddenly flip his attitude so dramatically.
She thought he would naturally proceed with a breakup without her intervention. She’d avoided getting involved to keep things clean. But clearly, she’d miscalculated.
“To think he would even reject my personal request… At this rate, I worry he’s lost his sense of judgment.”
To elevate the Saint, she needed Raphael’s public support. That’s why she’d even written a personal letter—but to be rejected so coldly?
This had never happened before, and now everything about it grated on her nerves.
“I believe we should proceed with the breakup. Can you handle that?”
Harlin had decided to remove the most irritating piece first. The maid’s trembling lips parted slowly.
“Yes. I’ll kill her immediately.”
“Such enthusiasm is admirable. But killing her… let’s save that for later. The timing isn’t right.”
“…Then I’ll start a rumor. That she’s terminally ill and hiding it to secure a royal marriage.”
As Harlin’s finger lowered, a drop of sweat rolled down the maid’s face and hit the floor. Harlin, sipping her tea with the same serene smile, spoke softly.
“The tea’s cooled just right.”
It was silent approval.
Louisa collapsed onto her bed and shut her heavy eyelids.
‘Ugh… I think things are getting out of hand. Of all places, Albert just had to talk to me in front of a crowd.’
She had considered revealing their connection, but as their business grew and their secret correspondence became more frequent, the secrecy became a hassle.
Especially with all the attention on her lately, one stray word could cause serious problems. That’s why, just recently, she’d told Albert it was fine to speak to her more casually even in public.
But she hadn’t expected him to actually do it—in the middle of a crowd, no less.
‘Maybe I should’ve told him not to do it in front of too many people…’
Albert was sweet but a bit clueless. Still, Louisa couldn’t exactly scold him for his poor timing—so she had reluctantly greeted him back.
Sooner or later, people would start prying. But most wouldn’t dare approach her directly out of fear. Albert would just have to deal with the hassle.
“Young miss! You have to dry your hair before you sleep!”
Mary, coming out of the bathroom, ran over in shock.
“Can’t I just sleep like this…?”
“No! You’ll catch a cold!”
“It’s summer.”
“That’s exactly when colds are dangerous! Come on now.”
Mary was firm. She grabbed Louisa’s arms and pulled her up. Louisa groaned and sat reluctantly on the edge of the bed.
“Ugh… I’m dying.”
“Please don’t say things like that!”
Mary jumped in panic as she gently began drying Louisa’s hair with a towel.
“Mary… I feel like you’re nagging more and more each day.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“…Right.”
Louisa avoided Mary’s eyes, who had asked the question with such dead seriousness.
“Oh! The summer festival starts the day after tomorrow!”
“Really? Should I give you some time off?”
“No, no! That’s not it. I was wondering if you’d like to go see it for yourself.”
“I don’t really need to.”
“You’re just saying that because you’re too lazy to go.”
“Yup.”
“This year’s festival is going to be huge! They’re celebrating the Saint’s appearance. You have to go see it!”
“Then why don’t you go and tell me how it compares to last year?”
“Seeing and hearing are completely different things. You might enjoy it more than you think.”
“Sounds like a hassle…”
Louisa grumbled half-heartedly.
“Miss, just once… please?”
Mary clasped her hands at her chest, eyes wide and pleading like a kitten in boots. Louisa scratched her cheek awkwardly, uncomfortable with how desperate she looked.
‘Is she embarrassed to go alone? Why is she so insistent on this festival?’
Mary’s behavior was odd compared to usual. It caught Louisa off guard.
She’d been planning to stay home until her trip to the North, especially since she’d been so busy lately. But the look on Mary’s face now made her think the girl might burst into tears if she refused.
