Chapter 42
“Why are you suddenly using formal speech with me…?”
“Then you will use formal speech with me as well. From now on, do not call my name privately within the castle.”
“…Flora…?”
“Understand it all at once. You’ve always needed things pointed out for you to get them.”
Flora tilted her eyebrows and held her hand firmly.
“It’s going to be a little difficult for me to be casual with you now. You understand what I mean, right?”
You, a mere daughter of a viscount, are not on the same level as me, who will become a duchess, after all.
The young lady’s face, who had rushed over, went pale, but Flora’s expression was endlessly gentle.
“Then, my lady, I will invite you to a tea session sometime. Come to the castle then.”
Feeling the gazes of the young nobles falling on her, Flora squared her shoulders. Instead of her usual lovely smile, she wore a calm yet authoritative expression, like that of a marchioness.
Her steps felt lighter than ever. The vast castle felt more comfortable than ever, and she felt as if she were walking on clouds, intoxicated with excitement.
Even stepping into the damp, cool dungeon didn’t bring fear. Instead, it sent a thrilling rush through her. She couldn’t help but wonder what state the woman who had fawned over the duke would be in—how mad, how pitiful she might look.
She secretly hoped the woman would have gone completely mad. So much so that His Excellency would lose all affection at first sight.
Yet, when she reached the stairs leading to the solitary cell, Flora tilted her head in puzzlement. It was eerily silent. Usually, the insane wail and mutter constantly. Could that woman have gone mad quietly?
“Lady Lewen, watch your step.”
Flora’s maid softly warned her as she hurried down the stairs.
“She’s alive, right?”
“Yes.”
A soldier, peeking through the window, unlocked the solitary cell where Grace was confined. Flora’s eyes gleamed in the darkness.
Her heart raced.
Please, please, be completely mad.
Muttering the wish silently, the cell door opened. But the darkness made it hard to see Grace immediately.
“Shine the light quickly!”
Growing impatient, Flora sharply commanded, and a soldier thrust a torch inside. The flickering flame burned through the black veil that had hung like a shroud.
As the veil dissipated, the solitary cell—where everyone had been driven mad—was revealed before Flora’s eyes. The expression of the Richmond socialite princess, who had grown up seeing only beauty, twisted in shock. Not because of the eerie aura emanating from the cell.
The thrill that had filled her vanished like a mirage, and her chest felt chilled as if icy hands had brushed over her heart.
Flora unconsciously clenched her teeth.
Grace, sitting slumped against the wall, looked exhausted. Yet there was not a trace of madness in her eyes.
“Unbelievable…!”
The woman she had hoped would go insane had endured hell.
From early morning, unlike the marquis who was in high spirits, the marchioness felt rather displeased. There was no special reason.
Was it because Flora Lewen appeared in a dress that didn’t suit her and insisted she would bring Grace? Or perhaps the twisted hair that seemed like she was imitating someone, and the chunky rings she wore thinking it would look stylish, were unappealing?
In any case, there was no reason to refuse. Moreover, she didn’t want to go to the cold, damp dungeon, so she allowed Flora’s proposal.
There was no need to personally verify the woman who had enchanted the duke into madness. Whoever had brought this woman was no ordinary person.
“Those who inhale the smoke released by the stick will appear to sleep forever. Do not wake them. Outwardly they seem asleep, but they are suffering through a hellish madness. When their consciousness returns, their intellect will be gone, leaving only insanity.”
“Such a precious thing… Thank you, Your Majesty, the Empress.”
“You two govern Richmond well, so I am grateful. Sometimes, in ruling, such things are necessary. Ah, and it’s enough for one person, so use it only when truly needed.”
Though unsure of the exact contents of the stick, it was issued directly by the empress through Hetby, so it could be trusted.
Everything was flowing according to plan.
The marchioness deliberately adorned herself in lavish black. Her dress featured sleek feathered decorations reminiscent of raven wings. Around her slightly exposed neck, she wore a black pearl necklace especially cherished by Eliza Richmond. Her hair, elegantly twisted up, was secured with a black feathered pin.
In the mirror stood a ruler as magnificent and elegant as Eliza Richmond herself.
“Good.”
Her previously low spirits seemed to lift slightly. Yet, the feeling vanished the moment she entered the hall, before even the marquis, as if her mood had been turned upside down.
A black tiger dominated the vast hall. Though she should have shown anxiety or unease, the young duke radiated composure.
Moreover, knights who had arrived early in the morning exuded fierce and untamed energy, amplifying the duke’s presence. The nobles who supported the marquis just watched cautiously.
The marchioness was displeased. She wanted her husband to overturn the situation, but arriving late, he seemed more overwhelmed by the duke’s power.
Unable to stand by any longer, she rose from her seat and stepped in front of her husband.
“Your Excellency! Please forgive my impudence. For the past decade, I have dedicated myself to protecting the Richmond castle in place of the ailing matriarch. I humbly ask you to hear me out.”
The duke merely nodded as if to say, “Go ahead.”
The marchioness moistened her dry lips and drew upon her emotions. Today, she must be a loving mistress who genuinely cherishes all things Richmond.
“I care for every servant in Richmond Castle. Among them, the deceased maids were especially dear to me. They weren’t just special to me—they were precious daughters and kind sisters. Their families are now outside the castle.”
Tears spilled before she could blink, her voice choked with emotion.
“I told the bereaved families that I would provide compensation for their loss. But they wept, saying money was meaningless. Their cherished daughters were dead; what use is money? Instead, they asked me to bring the culprit to justice.”
The marchioness wiped her tears with a handkerchief offered by her maid.
“I understand that feeling. It is the same feeling I experienced at the tomb of the late duchess.”
Her restrained performance had pleased her immensely.
But Crimson Isaac, witnessing the marchioness’s tears up close, subtly rolled his eyes toward the main seat. The duke observed the marchioness with one hand over his mouth and jaw, eyes narrow.
A memory of her brothers’ conversation flashed before her:
“Brother, that expression on His Excellency… Is he tired of listening?”
“No, Andy.”
“Then what is it?”
“He’s saying, ‘Stop your nonsense.’ Be careful when he makes that expression, you.”
The voices of Andrew and Sirius echoed, and the marquis took the opportunity to raise his voice.
“Your Excellency! At this gathering of all Richmond vassals, I will speak frankly!! Within Richmond Castle, there are ‘Invisible Ones,’ enemies of Richmond and the Empire!!”
The knights supporting the duke turned to him, while the marquis’s allies began whispering among themselves. The quiet hall rippled, and the marquis, trying to make up for being overwhelmed, shouted even louder.
“Beyond the Wall of Death, treacherous ones who consorted with demons killed the poor maids who served Richmond and threatened Your Excellency’s safety!!”
“Marquis Rinko! Who is this shameless one?!”
One of the marquis’s allies demanded, and the marquis, with a regretful glance, said:
“Unfortunately… it is likely the lover you brought and her maid.”
Then Count Isaac rose and asked,
“Do you have proof?”
Ignoring the count, the marquis spoke to the duke in a sorrowful tone.
“Though it may trouble you, for Richmond’s sake, the truth must be revealed. Surely it has been hard for you, torn between trusting your beloved and your doubts…”
“Listen, Marquis.”
The duke, who had been silent until now, cut him off. His unusually low voice felt as if it brushed against the pit of her heart.
He spoke calmly:
“One side cries and wails, the other wishes to trust and doubts—such a long speech. Let’s skip the tedious preamble and get to the point.”
The marquis, who had prepared a lengthy statement, and the marchioness, who had relied on her maid for composure, blinked in surprise.
Though the content was forceful, his calm expression and tone left one uncertain how to respond. The couple exchanged glances, and the duke continued:
“Ah, before that, let’s review the points of this council.”
