Chapter 30
“Motives? Are you trying to justify violence?”
“No. I’m saying that since I had no motive, there was no threat either. More than anything, they are accusing me of being the culprit based solely on circumstantial claims.”
Flora, who had buried her face against her maid’s shoulder, suddenly snapped her head up.
“Are you saying my maids are lying?!”
As Flora shouted, the maid clinging to her also cried out.
“Y-you said you weren’t pleased with my service at dinner!!”
“And because of that, I supposedly locked you up and assaulted you?”
A brief silence followed. Grace slowly swept her gaze over the noblewomen gathered around.
“I never imprisoned the maids. Still less did I lay a hand on them. I had no reason to, nor the means. As you all know, I only arrived here yesterday with His Grace. In this vast castle, isn’t it already hard enough not to lose one’s way?”
Flora immediately shrieked as though seized by convulsions.
“Marchioness, my maids do not lie. Just look at how terrified they are.”
As Flora wept mournfully, her maids also lowered their heads and began to sob. Then, among the noblewomen seated by the wall, one who was both of higher standing and of advanced years cautiously spoke.
“Marchioness Rinko, did anyone witness the maids being assaulted?”
As all eyes turned to her, the Marchioness let out a loud sigh.
“As the maids said, it happened in a secluded place, so no witness could be found. To think such discord would arise in peaceful, serene Richmond. And worse, a dispute between His Grace’s consort and Flora’s maids. This is indeed troubling.”
Her gaze shifted from the maids to Grace. To maintain composure even in such a moment—she wasn’t an ordinary woman, that much was clear. Yet, regardless, the victor of this confrontation would be herself.
With stern authority, the Marchioness addressed the noblewomen assembled.
“As the one acting in place of the Grand Lady to safeguard order in the Ducal Castle of Richmond, I cannot take this matter lightly. Imprisonment, assault, and threats of murder are all treated as serious crimes under Richmond law.”
She turned to Flora.
“Flora. I believe in your maids’ innocence. But since both sides present conflicting accounts, we have no choice but to seek the truth.”
“Marchioness…!”
“Take the maids to the dungeon.”
Dungeon.
The moment the word fell from the Marchioness’s lips, the maids burst into loud wails. Flora embraced them tightly, her tear-soaked face full of fear.
“Justice stands on the side of the truthful. Endure a little. Sob I’ll come visit you every day.”
Though they might walk in of their own will, no one ever walked out again by their own strength—such was the infamous dungeon of Richmond.
It wasn’t that the Dukes of Richmond had a peculiar love of torture. The problem lay in the bedrock beneath the castle: the stone absorbed sound. In that place where light and sound were utterly cut off, people easily lost their sanity.
The Marchioness commanded her maids,
“Take her down as well, together with those maids. And find the woman she came with—bring her to me at once!”
At her command, waiting handmaids advanced on Grace as though they had long been anticipating this moment.
“Get up!”
The maids seized Grace’s forearms roughly. In that instant, Grace swiftly scanned the expressions of the noblewomen gathered: some were exultant, some thrilled, others wary.
“Can’t you stand up?!”
Just as Flora sneered while watching the maids struggle to drag Grace up—
Bang!
The doors burst open with a violent crash, and the wind that rushed in shattered the stifling atmosphere of the chamber.
The enraged Marchioness spun around, brow furrowed. She was ready to thunder at whoever had dared to open the door without permission—but the words died in her throat.
“Your Grace…!”
Framed by the wind at his back, Walter’s eyes fixed on Grace, whose arms were restrained. Grace, too, turned her head just as she was being forced to her feet.
“!!”
The moment their eyes met, the sharply drawn figure strode forward with long, decisive steps. He loomed over the maids who had frozen with their hands clamped on Grace’s arms, baring his teeth in quiet menace.
“Hands. Off.”
* * *
A few dozen minutes earlier.
Five nobles responsible for Richmond’s finances had been summoned. Nothing strange about that—it was natural that the Duke, even if entrusting duties to Marchioness Rinko for a time, would want to inquire about financial matters.
But what was unusual was that each of the five nobles had been called to separate rooms.
Joseph had secured five empty chambers matching Walter’s instructions, and the nobles, bewildered, were practically shoved into their assigned rooms.
Each unheated, dim room contained nothing but a desk and two chairs.
“What on earth is this…?”
As one man shivered and tried to hurry back out—
“What, so frightened already?”
“!!”
“Sit.”
Appearing without a sound, Walter closed in like a predator cornering prey. The man, who just moments earlier had strutted about confidently behind Marchioness Rinko, now trembled visibly as he carefully sat opposite the Duke.
“Wh-what brings me here, Your Grace…?”
Before he could even finish, a folder was thrust before him.
“Explain.”
“Th-this… what exactly…?”
“There’s plenty to explain. For instance, what this ‘maintenance of dignity’ expense means. Or what’s been lumped together under ‘miscellaneous.’”
The moment words that should never have left a duke’s lips spilled out, instinct screamed at the man to find an escape route. But before he could open his mouth, a voice devoid of all human warmth struck his lips like a whip.
“Excuses, evasions—don’t even utter them. I summoned only those who should be able to explain these documents properly.”
The man lifted his eyes timidly. The black-haired duke leaned leisurely against his chair, long legs crossed. Yet his pitch-black eyes glimmered from the shadow like those of a hidden predator—frightening in their intensity.
“Explain clearly and briefly.”
“Uh…”
His voice trembled faintly. Walter’s lips curled into a chilling smile as he added another despairing truth.
“Oh, and don’t trouble yourself worrying about making a mistake in your explanation.”
“Pardon?”
“Because I summoned four other responsible parties besides you. I’ll ask them the same questions.”
In other words, he would cross-check all their testimonies against the same document.
It was like a thunderbolt out of a clear sky. They had been recklessly exploiting the Richmond funds—what could possibly explain those records now? And worse, they hadn’t even coordinated their stories in advance.
The man’s face turned ashen. The rectangular ledger now looked like the very gates of hell. He stammered,
“W-well, you see… This first item, at the top here…”
“Don’t drag your words. Brief.”
Startled by the cutting command, he faltered further.
“You’re making excuses. Didn’t I tell you not to?!”
“If you don’t know, just say so and move on! Four more are waiting outside—have you forgotten?!”
“Next!”
Never in his life had he been beaten down so mercilessly by words alone. Walter allowed no room for manipulation, no chance to maneuver.
Unlike his forbears, who had been firm yet gentle, Walter—shaped in the crucible of death—was sharp as a spearhead, merciless in his drive.
And yet the ordeal didn’t end with the interrogation. As soon as the man finished speaking, another paper was thrust before him. Hastily scrawled upon it were his every word, recorded verbatim.
As Joseph massaged his cramping wrist from writing, Walter offered the man a quill.
“A man must take responsibility for his own words. Verify there are no discrepancies, then sign.”
“….”
It was over.
One set of messy accounts. Five desperate officials, each trying to dodge blame.
The man wanted to collapse and weep. Already he feared the bleak future awaiting him.
And Walter, in fairness, opened the same gates of hell for the remaining four. With no time to fabricate stories, each was forced to give testimony. It took less than an hour to obtain signed statements from all five.
By the time the last signature was inked—
“Your Grace. Lady Grace’s maid has come.”
Perhaps she brought word that the Grand Lady had awakened?
But Joseph’s assumption was instantly dashed when he saw his lord’s eyebrow arch at something Jessie whispered.
Walter dismissed the dazed noble, whose mind was still shattered, with a flick of his eyes. Joseph hurriedly ushered him out, then checked the hallway carefully—no one else was around.
Only when he confirmed there were no listening ears did Walter speak.
“Something happened to Grace?”
“Yes. The Marchioness Rinko’s maids have taken her. On the way I overheard them—they said they were opening something called the ‘Room of Punishment.’”
