Chapter 28
“Grand Madam, that is…”
Madam Isaac hesitantly opened her mouth, but Grace spoke first.
“Forgive my discourtesy.”
“You ask for forgiveness, yet speak as if you’ve done nothing wrong. How bold.”
“I apologize. But I felt that eventually, I would have had no choice but to commit this discourtesy.”
“…What did you say?”
“If I had waited in the drawing room, would you have granted me an audience?”
Eliza’s brow twitched. Grace did not lower her gaze even as she saw anger begin to glimmer in Eliza’s eyes.
When Eliza moved as if to rise, Madam Isaac hurried over to help her. The Grand Madam slowly straightened her body and sat up.
Through her cascading silver hair, her gaunt cheekbones jutted sharply. But what drew the eye even more were the jet-black pupils glittering amid the silver strands. Her lips pressed tight, her back and shoulders held straight despite her frailty—
Though she had lived the last ten years like one waiting for the grave, the dignity she exuded was far beyond that of those who had merely played at being master of the house.
When Madam Isaac tried to fix her disheveled hair, Eliza coldly brushed the hand away. Fixing Grace with a piercing look, she spoke.
“Yes, you know well. I would not have met you.”
“Are you not curious as to why I’ve come?”
“I am not. What astonishes me is that a noble daughter, not yet wed, has followed a duke. Have you no concern for your family’s honor?!”
Eliza’s voice rang out, sharp and clear, nothing like the withered body it came from. Yet Grace, unflinching, retorted.
“Do you truly believe that?”
“……”
“Had things gone as planned, by now I should rightfully be the daughter-in-law of Count Sachsen.”
At the name Sachsen, Eliza’s brow furrowed. Grace lowered her voice and continued.
“Had I meekly lived as the daughter-in-law of the very man who murdered my parents, would that have preserved the honor of House Taylor, Grand Madam?”
“……”
“Allow me one question. For what purpose do you remain silent in hiding?”
“Mind your words! How dare you speak so to the Grand Madam…!”
Madam Isaac burst out angrily, but Grace pressed on.
“Why do you sit here as if you’ve already given Richmond away in its entirety, waiting only for life to end?”
“This will not do. Leave at once!!”
And just then—
Eliza, who had been glaring at Grace, suddenly began to laugh. It was laughter like black blood that had long festered in her dried-up entrails. Jesse, watching from behind, rubbed his arms at the chill it gave. After a long, dark laugh, Eliza raised her right hand.
“Grand Madam…”
“Don’t prattle about what’s bad for my health. Bring it here.”
Madam Isaac sighed faintly and fetched tobacco from the table. Lighting it, she placed it in Eliza’s hand. Eliza smoked for a long while.
Under the sunlight, the white smoke stood out starkly. Peering at Grace through the haze, Eliza slowly spoke.
“You ask, what do I live in silence for?”
“……”
“Child. I do not care to know what you seek from me, but to that question, I shall give you an answer.”
“……”
“I…”
In that instant, all emotion in Eliza’s black eyes ebbed away like the tide. Like white smoke rising in shape, only to vanish tracelessly, even the anger she had shown dissolved into emptiness.
“That ‘purpose’—is gone.”
At her worn voice, Madam Isaac’s eyes welled with tears. Grace remained silent. Having finished her cigarette, the Grand Madam sank back under her quilt.
Madam Isaac quietly wiped her tears and tucked the blankets around Eliza before ushering Grace and Jesse out. She looked at Grace as though she had much to say, but in the end closed the door without a word.
“What shall we do, my lady?” Jesse asked cautiously. Grace stared at the closed door for a moment, then turned.
“For today, let’s leave. We’ll return tomorrow.”
Walking down the chilly corridor, so different from Eliza’s room, Grace organized her thoughts.
First: Just as Walter had said, Eliza did react to anger. But barging into her chamber alone was not enough to rouse her.
Second: The greatest reason Eliza would not rise was because she had lost her purpose.
Thus, to awaken her, Grace would need to give her both a definite cause for anger and a clear purpose to pursue. With these two conditions in mind, she was about to leave the annex when—
“My lady.”
Jesse stopped her. Following Jesse’s gaze to the window, Grace saw an unexpected sight: waiting for her were maids in dark navy dresses with high collars, standing stern-faced.
Her heart thudded, sinking like a stone. A survival instinct raced through her veins.
“They mean to pin the crime of imprisoning and assaulting maids on me.”
“What shall we do?”
Grace’s green eyes glinted with cold amusement. A bait is only truly bait if it risks being bitten.
“You must hide yourself. Tell His Excellency to watch for now. This is an internal matter of the inner quarters—if he intervenes rashly, it may only place him at a disadvantage.”
Jesse bit her lip, then nodded.
“Understood.”
Like a cat, she slipped out beneath the window and withdrew. Grace, confirming she was gone, pushed open the front door.
There, waiting like judges, stood the marquis’s maids. Their eyes narrowed, their voices pressed with authority.
“Marchioness Rinko summons you. You are to follow us immediately.”
Chapter 3. Grace’s Trap
The Chamber of Punishment opened.
Long ago, when Empress Isabella, Eliza’s mother, judged the sins of maids or noblewomen within the palace, she used this very method. Over time, it came to be called the Chamber of Punishment. And the one who made most use of it now was none other than Marchioness Rinko.
Today, the Marchioness had summoned every noblewoman who had entered Richmond Castle. She seated those who fawned upon her like the tongue within her mouth, spreading them around her like wings, while the rest were placed to one side.
With this arrangement, she drew still greater loyalty from those devoted to her, while warning the wavering ones what fate awaited if they displeased her.
Behind the Marchioness stood maids in uniform-like navy dresses, lined up like soldiers. Sunlight streamed in from behind them, casting their faces into shadow, lending an austere solemnity.
In this room, the Marchioness was both monarch and judge.
And directly before her, in the seat upon which every gaze fell, sat a single lonely chair. Clearly, it was the seat of the accused.
A lady, detained when she had only come early that morning to deliver something to her husband, whispered to the one beside her:
“Surely this is to interrogate the woman His Excellency brought?”
“She only entered yesterday. I wonder how His Excellency will respond… I only hope it won’t be us powerless ones who suffer for it.”
“They say she laid hands on Lady Ruwen’s maids. Could it be true?”
“Whether it’s true or not doesn’t matter. What matters is that the Marchioness has set her in this chamber.”
Meanwhile, Flora glared at that empty seat from behind the Marchioness.
“How vile, Marchioness! To think she threatened Flora’s maids so cruelly!”
Countess Ruwen, Flora’s mother, raised her voice, face flushed, and other ladies nodded in agreement.
“Indeed, the malice of those seeking to climb above their station is beyond imagination.”
“I felt uneasy about her from the very beginning.”
Countess Ruwen, shuddering, turned to her daughter’s two maids.
“How did that wicked wench threaten you?”
The two maids, weeping, accused her.
“She said she would kill us. We were so, so afraid…”
“Y-yes, that’s right. We had just served dinner and were on our way back when she suddenly dragged us off somewhere. It felt as though she might kill us at any moment.”
“Unbelievable! Instead of thanking the maids who served her dinner, she does this?”
The Marchioness crossed her arms elegantly and tilted her head.
“Why did you not report this immediately?”
“She forbade us from speaking… We feared she would kill us.”
“Marchioness, imagine how vicious she must have been, to leave them this terrified!”
Flora’s face twisted with disgust, but then a smile spread. How grateful she was that someone else had arranged all this so neatly for her. Quickly smothering the smile lest anyone notice, she put on a sorrowful expression and wept.
“I… I should have protected you better. I’m so sorry.”
“Oh, Flora. It is not your fault. Your heart is simply too tender…”
The Marchioness herself reached back to pat her on the back. At this, Flora finally burst into tears.
“Don’t cry, child. The one who should be shedding tears is someone else.”
No sooner had the Marchioness spoken than a polite knock sounded at the door. Both Flora, wiping her tears, and the Marchioness, consoling her, turned their gaze toward it at once.
