TKWPAP 08

chapter 08

Once again, it was a cold and cutting question—but Eartress calmly nodded.

“If you saw where the vase shattered, you’d know already. The damage wasn’t just to the vase—there were deep marks left on the wallpaper behind it, the console holding the vase was broken, and even the cart was smashed to pieces. I couldn’t have done that with my strength alone. That kind of destruction could only happen if something as big and heavy as a cart tumbled down the stairs.”

Her explanation was clear and calm, like a soldier reporting on enemy movements.

A tense silence fell among the servants, who had expected her to be flustered or frightened. Even the butler Mel was startled by her composed demeanor, adjusting his gold-rimmed monocle.

“But you could have pushed the cart down the stairs yourself.”

The Duke, leaning against his desk, stared at her. His words painted Eartress as some reckless brat who had let her anger get the best of her.

Eartress held back a sigh.

She hadn’t wanted to resort to this. But she had no choice.

“There’s a witness.”

“A witness?”

She nodded again and met the Duke’s gaze.

“Yes. The Marquess Eurean’s son happened to pass by and saw what happened. If you send him a letter, I’m sure he’ll explain the situation.”

Vivian’s expression stiffened, as if she had just now remembered there had been a third party. Even Muriel’s nanny Tanya, who had remained composed throughout, lost her usual calm.

“The Marquess’ son—Louis Eurean?”

The Duke muttered, slightly frowning beneath his golden brows. It was clearly an answer he hadn’t expected.

“If the Marquess’ son witnessed it, then that settles it.”

The mood shifted. The Duke averted his gaze from Eartress.

The moment a name associated with the Mage Tower was mentioned, everything turned around.

The servants now looked away from Eartress and toward Vivian and the other maid present that day.

“You may leave now.”

The Duke dismissed Eartress without so much as a glance.

He didn’t even apologize for suspecting me.

She bit her lower lip in bitter frustration and turned toward the door.

He made me explain everything right in front of everyone, and now he can’t even acknowledge it.

Even as a maid, Vivian had nearly crushed her with a cart. But when she narrowly avoided it, she was the one met with suspicion and blame.

She’d even been falsely accused of breaking the vase—something she didn’t do.

And the Duke, who let all of this happen, had the nerve to demand an explanation from me?

If there hadn’t been a witness, would he have even believed her defense?

That cold-blooded man will never understand how humiliating that is.

Eartress paused by the doorway and stared silently at the Duke.

But his eyes held no conviction. He merely gazed blankly at the pile of shattered vase fragments on the corner of his desk.

“I’ll leave the punishment of the servants who broke the vase to Mel. Everyone, leave.”

His firm command applied only to those who had broken the vase. Because to him, the only thing broken and damaged in all this was the vase.

Not like I didn’t expect this.

Eartress gave a short, bitter laugh.

“All servants, return to your posts except for Vivian and Cassie, who broke the vase.”

At the butler’s words, someone quietly began to cry.

Eartress, who had her hand on the doorknob, turned around at the sound.

“I’m truly sorry! But I didn’t break the vase or push the cart toward the young lady!”

It was the red-haired maid—Cassie—crying openly.

“Cassie Goldriver, you were present at the scene, weren’t you?”

“Yes, but I really—”

Her voice trembled with fear, making it hard for her to defend herself. She wasn’t Vivian’s accomplice, but no one seemed willing to believe that.

Eartress turned her gaze to check on Vivian standing beside Cassie.

“……”

Vivian showed no sign of guilt as she watched her fellow maid cry in frustration. In fact, she saw an opportunity. If she shared the blame, perhaps the punishment would be lighter.

“Cassie was the one who suggested pushing the cart first! Duke, I admit I was wrong too. But I didn’t mean any harm. My mother is Muriel’s loyal nanny—there’s no way I’d harbor ill intentions toward the ducal family!”

Vivian shamelessly deflected responsibility onto another maid while using Muriel as a shield.

So now she’s trying to pin everything on someone else. But I won’t let her get away with that alone.

Cassie, now labeled the instigator, couldn’t stop crying in fear.

“That red-haired maid didn’t do anything. She didn’t harm me or break the vase.”

Before Vivian could say another word, Eartress cut her off and blocked her escape.

Vivian’s eyes filled with despair, while Cassie, still teary-eyed, began to look hopeful.

“I’ll say it clearly. The instigator was Vivian. The other maid did nothing wrong.”

From behind, Cassie let out a small hiccup as she abruptly stopped crying.

The atmosphere in the room shifted—no one had expected Eartress to defend a fellow servant.

Ignoring the startled Mel and the others whose gazes had softened, Eartress calmly pushed the door open and stepped outside.

Not sparing even a glance at the Duke or Vivian, who had collapsed to her knees.

Vivian’s matter wrapped up faster than expected.

Eartress mulled it over while jotting down a rough summary of the incident and her next plans with a pen pulled from the drawer.

“Now then… how can I protect him in this lifetime?”

She muttered quietly to herself.

The Duke of Kaidel, who was selecting an heir, clearly hated his niece Eartress.

No one knew that better than the one most despised—Eartress herself.

After all, his beloved sister Isobel had died giving birth to her.

A bitter smile crossed Eartress’ face.

But if I surpass my cousins and become an exceptional knight, even the Duke will have no choice.

The Dukes of Vellanel traditionally served as Supreme Commander of the Empire’s forces. So the heir must not only be the Duke’s successor, but also a first-class knight.

The Duke had no children of his own. The only candidates for heir were his three nieces and nephews: Hedon, Muriel, and Eartress.

If Hedon and Muriel failed and she proved herself an exceptional knight…

Her pen froze mid-sentence.

Then the title of heir would naturally fall to me.

She circled the words and smiled confidently. No matter how much the Duke hated her, he would have no choice but to acknowledge her if she proved her worth.

In her previous life, Hedon had only inherited the title because the Duke had died early and there had been no better alternative.

So if I prove myself worthy of the dukedom as a knight…

“There’s more than a good chance.”

She could defeat Hedon and Muriel and become the legitimate successor to the Vellanel Duchy.

To do that, there was only one fastest route to being recognized as a knight in the Empire.

Enroll in Deltore Academy.

She gripped her pen tightly.

I must, absolutely must get in.

To protect her lord, Adrian, she needed to become a knight strong enough to claim the ducal seat. And that meant growing even stronger.

“…In this life, I’ll live as Adrian Blaine Roanest’s shadow knight.”

A shadow knight—not a close aide at his side, but a silent protector standing one step behind in the darkness.

Her past life had taught her that showing weakness was foolish.

Revealing that you care for someone is the most fatal weakness of all.

If you wanted to protect someone, you didn’t guard them openly—you hid them so well that no one could ever see.

That hard-earned truth had been burned into her bones through fights with her cousins. Adrian had cherished his knight. Eartress had worried for her lord’s safety. And so, they had lost—because their enemies had exploited those weaknesses.

The dark haze of her past threatened to stir again, but Eartress furrowed her brow, shook her head, and refocused on her plan.

Deltore is the Empire’s top academy for training knights and mages.

It had produced countless grand magi and sword masters. Every year, noble houses fiercely competed to enroll their children.

“The problem is… for the swordsmanship department, it’s almost impossible for girls to get in and graduate.”

Given the Empire’s disinterest in female knights, it was no surprise the department had so few female students.

Even if one managed to enroll, it was extremely difficult for them to graduate with distinction, thanks to hazing and grueling training.

“There was one exception, though.”

Only once, twenty years ago, had a genius female student graduated top of her class in swordsmanship. Since then, no other female had achieved that feat.

Still, regardless of the difficulty, graduates of Deltore went on to become the best knights and mages. Even if the swordsmanship department wasn’t welcoming to women, Eartress couldn’t give up.

You can take the entrance exam starting at age fifteen… I’ve got a year left.

Unlike the magic department, the swordsmanship track prioritized technical fundamentals. Even knights without awakened mana or divine power could pass if they trained correctly.

“Hedon failed last year… and again this year.”

The exam was notoriously tough, but Hedon had trained under a top instructor and even managed to awaken a small amount of mana—yet still failed.

He’d wasted time hanging out with his academy hopeful friends under the guise of building a social network.

“He showed that side of himself to the very crowd he wanted to impress.”

Eartress chuckled at the recent memory.

Those noble heirs were loose-lipped; Hedon’s reputation among academy hopefuls must be in shambles. With all of them being from prominent houses, the gossip was sure to spread in high society.

Muriel, who had temporarily gone to the countryside to study herbalism, would return soon—only to sweat under the saintly mask trying to contain the rumors. That thought made Eartress laugh again.

By now, she’s probably heard what happened with Vivian too.

She could easily picture Muriel’s twisted face as she discarded her saintly facade.

Because of Vivian’s blunder, her nanny Tanya’s position would be weakened as well. That meant Muriel’s influence and information network would shrink too.

“Unintentionally cut off one of Muriel’s limbs.”

Eartress murmured in satisfaction. It wasn’t planned, but she had dealt Muriel a blow nonetheless.

As she threw the paper into the fireplace and watched it burn to ash—

Knock knock.

A careful knock on the door.

“Come in.”

As she answered from her chair, the door creaked open gently.

“Arta?”

At this hour, the only one who’d come was her nanny, Arta—though the knock wasn’t like her.

But peeking through the door was a small head of red hair.