CHAPTER 23…………………………………………………..
“Why would Mother…?”
“She believed that if Millard—who supports Her Highness the Princess—were to marry a foreigner like me, it would end up holding Her Highness back.”
Hestia couldn’t simply let those words pass by.
After all, the Empress had once confined her own son, Millard, to his estate without a second thought.
“That’s all I can say.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“So that you’ll understand that my marriage to Edwin was not born of love, but merely a personal alliance between individuals.”
It was nothing more than an alliance. She had never loved him—not even for a single moment.
She wasn’t abandoning Edwin because her love had faded.
He was the one who broke her trust first, and so the marital alliance had simply come to an end.
Even if Edwin were to come back, Trisha would not waver.
She no longer trusted her husband.
“I’ll say this just in case, but what we discussed today must not reach Millard—no, the Grand Duke of Winchester.”
“If Millard finds out…”
“He won’t stay still.”
He would immediately divorce Trisha and try to keep her by his side.
Hestia had already read the lingering attachment in his eyes—feelings he hadn’t yet erased.
“But that’s your concern. Once I’m divorced, I plan to live quietly on my own. I’m sick and tired of being treated like shackles that hold someone else back.”
“Do you really think Millard would allow that?”
“Then would Her Highness be willing to watch him be pointed at and accused of fooling around with his sister-in-law?”
“If Millard learns all of this and still says he wants you…”
“I don’t think that will happen.”
“You never know.”
At Hestia’s words, Trisha seemed to ponder for a moment.
“The answer to that… only the me of that time would know.”
After saying that, Trisha quietly finished her tea and left.
“Hest-nim? Are you all right?”
At Judith’s words from across the table, Hestia lifted her head.
“You don’t look well.”
“No, no. I was just lost in thought for a moment.”
Having steeled herself, Hestia clasped her hands together.
And then, at last, she brought up the main point.
“Has Mother ever tried to kill Millard?”
Mornings at the Duke of Mason’s residence were fierce.
“Your Majesty, I have recently begun a new banking enterprise—”
“Your Majesty! That man has already made enormous profits by monopolizing tea leaves in the capital!”
“That’s right. He must not be allowed to monopolize banking as well.”
Those who had belatedly heard news of Baron Berkshire were busy flattering the Emperor.
“I see. I understand your enthusiasm well enough. But I can hardly tell whether this is a council of state affairs or a breakfast table.”
Thanks to that, the Emperor seemed to be in a foul mood from early morning.
Watching the situation, Trisha’s gaze naturally turned toward Edwin.
At times like this, Edwin should read the room and smooth things over…
But if he could do that, he wouldn’t be Edwin Mason.
He only ever spoke up to obstruct nobles close to Millard, and had no talent for pleasing the Emperor by sensing his mood.
That said, I can’t step in myself.
If Edwin ended up falling out of the Emperor’s favor on his own, that was all for the best.
Besides, Trisha was waiting for something.
So she focused on her meal, carefully hiding her excitement like a child waiting for a present.
“Your Highness, you have a visitor.”
“In that case, I should excuse myself.”
Trisha rose from her seat.
Dessert had just been served, so this hardly counted as a breach of etiquette.
“Please forgive the rudeness of leaving before the Sun of Ephelberno.”
“As a guest, I have no intention of being so strict.”
“Thank you for your understanding, Your Majesty.”
Trisha bowed politely to the Emperor.
Then she looked straight at Edwin.
“After the meal, a light stroll might be nice. At the tea party, I noticed the blue roses blooming beautifully in the greenhouse garden.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound bad.”
After subtly informing the tactless Edwin of the next activity for their guests, Trisha left the dining hall.
Heading straight to the lobby, she found the Marchioness of Devon waiting there.
“We should talk.”
Mindful of the servants’ eyes, the Marchioness of Devon led Trisha to a quiet place.
Trisha followed obediently.
Once they were sufficiently away from others, the Marchioness dismissed the attendants.
“Olivia has been confined in the imperial palace, hasn’t she?”
At those words, Trisha nodded a beat late.
“Are you referring to Miss Olivia of House Moret?”
The response, as if she had momentarily forgotten that Olivia was the Marchioness’s relative, irritated the Marchioness.
“Why did you help the Princess?”
Once she confirmed they were alone, the Marchioness asked boldly.
“If the Princess were gone, your husband would become Emperor—so why, exactly?”
“Aunt, that’s a very dangerous thing to say.”
“Don’t dodge the question!”
The Marchioness snapped.
Suppressing her sudden surge of anger, she asked with suspicion filling her eyes.
“Don’t tell me… you intend to support the Princess?”
“Aunt, my intentions are the same as Edwin’s. He doesn’t feel there’s any need to eliminate Her Highness the Princess.”
Trisha continued calmly.
“There’s no need to take unnecessary risks.”
Edwin felt no wariness toward Hestia at all.
Even with the Emperor’s favor, he never imagined the Emperor would hand the throne over to Hestia.
Even if he learned of this incident, he would probably say, ‘Why poison Hestia instead of Millard—what would that accomplish?’
That’s Edwin’s foolishness.
The Emperor had already marked Hestia as his successor.
Knowing that was precisely why the Marchioness of Devon was moving so frantically.
“Besides, this plan was far too dangerous. To use someone who doesn’t even properly understand wine…”
On that point, even the Marchioness seemed to have nothing to say, biting her lip instead.
“If luck had turned against you, it might have been you in prison—not Miss Olivia.”
Trisha spoke as though she herself had neatly resolved the situation.
Then she clasped the Marchioness’s hand, as if soothing her.
“Please don’t worry too much. His Majesty doesn’t believe Miss Olivia is the real culprit. He said she’s merely being confined for failing to properly serve Her Highness the Princess.”
“That matter is settled. I’ll handle it myself.”
The Marchioness of Devon slapped Trisha’s hand away.
Her confidence that she could immediately free Olivia simply by asking the Emperor was clear.
I can’t let that happen.
Straightening the hand that had been brushed aside, Trisha asked smoothly,
“More importantly, how was your trip?”
“Your trip? Hah, you’ve got some nerve saying that.”
The Marchioness pulled a letter from her bosom and threw it at Trisha.
Fluttering through the air, the paper was likely the letter Trisha herself had sent.
As Trisha bent to pick it up out of courtesy, the Marchioness shouted,
“How dare you talk about reducing my maintenance allowance—such insolence!”
“Aunt, that isn’t my decision. It falls under Edwin’s authority as head of the house.”
“Silence! You slandered me, so that good child must have misunderstood me!”
The Marchioness pointed a finger at Trisha.
“You’re a woman too—how could you do that to me! Is it because you’re satisfied with having a young, handsome husband?!”
“…Pardon?”
“I lived with two old men! But I’m still a woman—of course I’d be drawn to a young, handsome man!”
At the Marchioness’s unrestrained words, Trisha flinched.
Two old men.
No matter how one looked at it, she was taking shots at both the Emperor and the Marquis of Devon at once.
“Aunt, that was not a wise thing to say just now.”
“What did I say wrong? I can’t even call old, ugly men old and ugly?!”
“Pfft—! Ahem!”
That was when it happened.
A considerable number of footsteps could be heard behind them.
The Marchioness of Devon stiffened.
Trisha, equally startled, stared toward the source of the noise.
“How amusing.”
A familiar voice cut through the greenhouse garden.
“This will get even more entertaining once the Marquis of Devon hears about it.”
“Y-Your Majesty…”
The Marchioness’s face drained of all color when her eyes met the Emperor’s.
There stood the guests who had been strolling through the garden, with Edwin at their head. The Emperor and Millard were among them as well.
Edwin looked utterly flustered, while Millard seemed to be struggling to suppress his laughter.
Those behind them, too, were holding back their laughter as if their lives depended on it.
