48. Antonio’s Guardian

Viscountess Clemence would never forget the face that had stared at her so intently the day she was humiliated by the Duke of Valtazar.

Moreover, the artwork in question was one that she had been specifically instructed to purchase.

Grinding her teeth, Viscountess Clemence raised her hand again.

“100 Berangs!”

As there had never been a bid over 100 Berangs at this auction, the crowd began to buzz with excitement.

The auctioneer, who had been watching the intense bidding between the two women with wide eyes, exclaimed enthusiastically.

“Yes! We have our first 100 Berang bid of the day!”

Claucet glared furiously at Viscountess Clemence.

Roselia, thinking that it would be advantageous to secure the artwork even at a higher price, leaned in and whispered quietly to Claucet.

After hearing Roselia’s suggestion, Claucet raised her hand ambitiously and shouted.

“200 Berangs!”

200 Berangs was an amount that could support a commoner’s family for years without needing to work. While it wasn’t an exorbitant amount for nobles, it was still a surprising sum to spend at a charity auction, leaving the audience in awe.

Finally, Viscountess Clemence, unable to contain her fury, shot up from her seat with an angry expression.

Even for her, there was no way she could justify spending such a large sum on a piece that might not even sell for 200 Berangs. Her fiery gaze soon fixed on Roselia.

“Is there any higher bid? No more bids? It seems there aren’t any! The twelfth piece is sold to Lady Claucet of the Valtazar family!”

Next to Claucet, who was beaming with pride, Roselia caught Viscountess Clemence’s hostile glare and did her best to ignore it.

Following the successful charity auction, a post-auction party hosted by the Count was quickly underway.

Claucet, still flushed from the excitement of the auction, fanned her face.

“I think I got too heated. I’m sweating. I’ll just pop into the powder room for a moment.”

“Yes, please go ahead.”

As Roselia stood there alone, a strong scent of perfume accompanied by the sharp sound of heels clicked toward her, stopping in front of her.

“What makes you think you know enough to interfere?”

It was Viscountess Clemence.

Roselia judged that there was nothing to be gained from clashing with a noble, so she lowered her head and tried to walk past, pretending not to hear her. However, the Viscountess, her expression full of malice, blocked her path.

“You, you saw me before, didn’t you?”

Despite being a noble, her rude tone was surprising.

Even though it was their first meeting, the Viscountess’s openly dismissive behavior made Roselia respond indifferently.

“Are you talking about the day you were rebuffed by the Duke?”

“What—what did you say? Rebuffed? How dare you!”

It happened in an instant.

Without a moment’s hesitation, as if slapping someone was second nature to her, the Viscountess raised her hand and struck Roselia across the cheek.

*Smack!*

Roselia’s head turned from the impact, and she stood there frozen for a moment, unable to believe what had just happened.

“Ha…”

No matter that she was dressed as a servant; she was still a servant of the Duke’s household.

Not to mention that striking someone without warning was outrageous.

Roselia, who had been trying to pass quietly, couldn’t suppress her anger any longer. She slowly turned her head to face the Viscountess, her gaze fierce.

Seeing Roselia’s unwavering and piercing gaze, Viscountess Clemence, now even more infuriated, raised her hand again.

“How dare a mere servant look at me like that…!”

Thunk!

At that moment, Klaus suddenly appeared from somewhere and caught Viscountess Clemence’s wrist, stopping her in her tracks.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Viscountess Clemence, who had been caught off guard by the Duke’s sudden appearance—he hadn’t been present during the auction—quickly composed herself and retorted with a scowl.

“Let go of me! That servant was the one who acted rudely first!”

Klaus frowned, his voice cold as he replied.

“If raising your hand so easily is a hobby of yours, why don’t you try it on your own servants? Why involve a servant of the Duke’s household?”

Clemence’s expression twisted with anger at Klaus’s protective behavior.

Again. This wasn’t the first time the Duke had humiliated her because of that servant…

Could it be… that Roselia was just a distraction, and the Duke’s true interest was…?

As this thought crossed her mind, an unpleasant smile curled on her lips.

“Hah… Duke, could it be that you have feelings for that servant?”

“What…?”

Klaus, who had received an invitation to the Blimund Count’s ball just like Claucet, had intended to just make an appearance, skipping the charity auction due to his busy schedule. But now, faced with this ridiculous situation, he found himself speechless. As he tried to comprehend the absurdity of it all, the surrounding nobles began to murmur and cast glances at him.

Frowning in displeasure, Klaus stared at Viscountess Clemence, who defiantly continued speaking.

“What do you think it means to publicly humiliate me in front of all these nobles just to defend that male servant?”

“…”

“Kneel that servant before me right now. If you don’t, who knows what kind of rumors I might spread? After all, it’s not uncommon for a servant to kneel before a noble, is it?”

She was clearly crossing the line. While it was true that a misunderstanding or rumor here could cause significant damage to the Duke’s household, Klaus couldn’t simply stand by and allow this arrogant woman to have her way.

Just as Klaus was about to speak, prepared to endure the fallout, a deep, authoritative voice rang out.

“Is the issue simply that he is a servant?”

Two elderly men entered the ballroom. One was clearly the host of the event, Count Blimund, and the other…

“Grandfather?”

Roselia couldn’t help but mutter as the nobles began to bow their heads in respect, one by one.

It was Count Bernas, a high-ranking noble who had been out of the social scene for some time, though his influence was still said to surpass that of many marquesses.

As Klaus stood there in shock, Count Bernas approached, parting the crowd like the Red Sea, and addressed the startled Viscountess Clemence.

“If rank is what you hold dear, then I’ll become this child’s guardian.”

The room buzzed with astonishment. Count Bernas, one of the great noble families, was declaring himself the guardian of a servant from the Duke’s household? What was the true identity of this servant?

The nobles, a mix of shock and curiosity, directed their attention to Roselia. Meanwhile, Viscountess Clemence turned as red as her hair, seething with anger.

“Are you serious, Count?” she stammered.

“Do you think I would lie at my age, especially in front of all these people?”

Even for someone as brazen as Viscountess Clemence, it was hard to act rudely toward Count Bernas, whose family was a revered military lineage.

Struggling to maintain her composure, the Viscountess forced a smile and replied as sweetly as she could manage.

“Count, I heard you’ve been unwell lately. Perhaps it’s best not to concern yourself with trivial matters.”

Though she tried to say it politely, it was clear she was dismissing him as an old man past his prime. Count Bernas didn’t react, but Count Blimund, standing beside him, scowled.

Count Bernas, raising his hand to calm Count Blimund, responded nonchalantly to the Viscountess.

“Hmm… If I recall, your late husband, the former Viscount Clemence, was never this rude. It seems you inherited the title but not the manners of a noble.”

Viscountess Clemence had been a high-class courtesan who managed to marry an elderly nobleman, securing her position as Viscountess. After her husband’s death, she had taken over the title herself.

Count Bernas’s comment was a deliberate jab at her background.

While the Viscountess stood there, her face burning with embarrassment, something caught Klaus’s eye. Glinting inside the Viscountess’s sleeve, partially hidden by her jacket—once again worn provocatively low—was something that looked like a sleeve button but was, in fact, a small badge.

Narrowing his eyes, Klaus quickly stepped forward and grabbed her arm roughly.

“Wh-What are you doing…?”

“Are you the one from Lugvela who tried to kidnap Roselia?”

At Klaus’s sharp question, the Viscountess flinched. But she quickly masked her fear with feigned nonchalance and shouted back.

“What nonsense are you spouting now?”

Klaus smirked, seeing through her act, and reached into her sleeve, yanking out the badge.

“Ah!”

The Viscountess, unable to resist his strength, gasped as she watched him pull the badge from her sleeve. Her face turned pale.

“And what is this?” Klaus asked coldly, holding up the badge.

The Viscountess, now panicked, tried to deny everything, her voice shaking.

“Can’t you see? It’s just a decorative badge!”

Klaus sneered, pulling out an identical badge from his own pocket.

“This was taken from one of the attackers who tried to kidnap Roselia. Do you still want to deny it?”

“…”

Realizing she had no more excuses, the Viscountess’s face drained of color, and she screamed in desperation.

“I-I was just following orders!”

She frantically looked around as if searching for someone to help her. Then, as her eyes landed on a particular spot, her face turned as white as a sheet.

It was as if she had been handed a death sentence. The Viscountess, who had been standing in shock, suddenly collapsed to the floor, her legs giving out.

Klaus followed her gaze, but all he could see were the gathered nobles.

At that moment, Count Blimund, the host of the event, stepped forward and shouted.

“Call the guards! There’s a member of Lugvela, who has been slandering the royal family and nobility, here!”

Everything that followed happened swiftly. The royal guards, alerted by the commotion, arrived to take the Viscountess into custody.

Given her history of recklessly publishing gossip about the royal family and nobles, the situation quickly escalated as soon as her identity was revealed.

Even as she was being led away by the guards, Viscountess Clemence didn’t lose her defiant glare.

“You’re making a mistake. Arresting me won’t solve anything.”

Her voice was laced with a mix of scorn and foreboding, leaving the nobles feeling uneasy as they whispered among themselves.

As if cursing the Duke or swearing vengeance against an unseen enemy, she spat out her final words, her voice dripping with malice.

“Duke Valtazar. You’re the one who should be most careful.”

With that, she left, a bitter smile on her lips, as the guards escorted her out of the mansion.