Chapter 48
A cruel anticipation gleamed in their curved eyes. There was joy in being able to look down on “Idel Canyon,” who possessed things they had long desired but never obtained.
“So, the Royal Knights got dismissed because of you? Still good at enchanting men, huh?”
“Or rather… shouldn’t a criminal live quietly instead of coming out in public and laughing? Are you in your right mind?”
“Her mind must’ve gone. After all she must’ve been through while being dragged here. If it were me, I’d have chosen an honorable death.”
They deliberately taunted her in a nasty tone, hoping to see Idel hurt and in tears.
Idel saw Marsha’s face overlapping with theirs.
Realizing that, Idel no longer felt afraid of them. She only felt sorry toward Daisy.
“If you wish to know the details concerning the Royal Knights, you can check the military tribunal records. Count Chrisus kindly allowed me to leave, and fortunately—or unfortunately—I am still of sound mind.”
With a calm smile, Idel responded without a hint of distress, leaving them looking dumbfounded.
Not wanting to ruin her pleasant day by continuing the conversation, Idel decided to end it.
“I hope you’ll understand that I can’t share more details. The Count ordered me to keep silent. Have a lovely outing.”
She gave a small curtsy.
Though she was of a lower rank and could not leave first, she maintained decorum while subtly dismissing them.
Lucille’s friends, hearing Idel mention Count Chrisus, reluctantly prepared to leave.
But not Lucille.
“Is being sold off as an old man’s second wife not enough for you? You’ve become a mercenary’s mistress, too?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Calling that mercenary ‘Count,’ and walking around fine after supposedly being enslaved—what else could it mean?”
Second wife to an old man, mistress to a mercenary, slave.
Her malicious words aimed to trample Idel, loud enough for those nearby to hear. As expected, everyone turned to Idel.
“That’s not true! Idel isn’t like that…!”
Just as Daisy sprang forward in defense, Idel stopped her.
“I didn’t know I had a mistress.”
At that moment, a familiar voice cut through the murmurs. Idel turned toward it.
“I’m curious—how do *you* know what I don’t?”
Laszlo approached, parting the gathered crowd with calm steps.
Everyone—Idel, Daisy, Lucille, and her friends—was caught off guard.
Unfazed, Laszlo stepped right up to Lucille, towering over her, and repeated himself.
“I asked, how do you know?”
“N-No, that’s not what I meant…”
“So you spread baseless rumors about my private affairs without knowing the truth?”
Lucille stammered in embarrassment, and her friends exchanged nervous glances, unsure what to do.
The spectators, sensing the situation, began snickering at Lucille.
“Seems like she was just jealous of that maid.”
“Well, the maid *is* prettier.”
“I thought she was looking for trouble from the start.”
Though the comments were faint, Lucille heard them. Her face flushed with shame, and she raised her voice defensively.
“Are you threatening me now? Is that what a captain of the guard should do? Show some chivalry!”
“Weren’t you just calling me a ‘mercenary’? Shouldn’t you be grateful that a ‘mercenary’ is being this civil?”
Lucille’s face turned even paler.
But Laszlo wasn’t done.
“Idel. What is this woman’s name?”
“…Her maiden name is Lucille Arten. I don’t know her married name.”
“So she tried to tarnish my reputation—perhaps aiming to disgrace His Majesty as well. Where should I assign responsibility for that?”
Lucille gasped and clasped her hands together in panic.
“I-I’m sorry, Count! I truly didn’t mean to insult you!”
“If you weren’t trying to insult me, how did the words ‘mercenary’ come out of your mouth? And even if your aim was only to demean my household maid, do you think I’d just laugh it off?”
Laszlo’s gaze turned harsher than ever.
Lucille was on the verge of tears, stamping her feet in frustration, while her friends, mortified, averted their eyes.
But the person feeling the most dismayed was Idel.
“So much for our fun Saturday, Daisy…”
She had only intended to spend the day with Daisy—getting their portraits drawn, doing a bit of shopping, and enjoying a nice meal before returning home. But at this rate, it felt like the city guards would show up, escalating the situation.
Just then, Laszlo, who had briefly glanced at Idel, abruptly changed his tone.
“This is annoying, and I don’t want to waste time digging into this further. Let’s settle it quickly. If you apologize to me and my maid right now, we’ll forget this ever happened.”
Lucille immediately bowed to Laszlo.
“I’m truly sorry. I acted recklessly and rudely. It won’t happen again.”
“Good. Now, there’s one more person you need to apologize to.”
Idel doubted Lucille would apologize to her. But to her surprise, Lucille stepped forward, lowered her head, and spoke quickly.
“I’m sorry, Idel. I was wrong. Will you forgive me?”
Her hands were trembling. Whether the apology was genuine or not, Idel wanted the situation to end quickly, so she nodded without hesitation.
“I accept your apology.”
“Thank you, Idel.”
With that, the incident was resolved.
Laszlo allowed Lucille and her friends to leave, and they scurried off as if escaping. The gathered onlookers soon dispersed as well.
It was only then that Idel noticed Linia and their coachman, Marco, observing the entire scene.
Linia glared at Lucille’s retreating group with a look of disdain.
“So these noblewomen aren’t such a big deal after all,” she scoffed, dismissing the aristocratic women she once found intimidating.
“What are you even doing here?” Laszlo asked Idel, as if blaming her for the commotion.
“I came to get a portrait drawn with Daisy. We were looking around for a good spot, but unfortunately, I ran into someone I knew. I’m sorry for the trouble.”
“I don’t think there’s anything to apologize for,” Laszlo replied, shrugging. “A portrait, huh…?”
He glanced at the bridge crowded with artists and their easels, then asked again.
“Why here, of all places? What’s so special about it?”
“They do quick portraits for a low price,” Idel explained, hoping Laszlo would take Linia and leave soon—there was still a lot she and Daisy wanted to do.
But suddenly, Linia chimed in.
“I want a portrait with my brother, too.”
“Are you crazy?” Laszlo muttered.
“Why? You’re the only family I have, and I don’t know how much time we have left. I should at least get a portrait to remember you by.”
Idel hadn’t realized Linia thought of Laszlo that way, though it was natural for family.
Laszlo’s expression shifted, as if Linia’s words had struck a chord.
“Alright, but not here—too many eyes.”
“Where are we going?”
“There’s a place that only serves noble clients.”
“You know places like that?”
“If you don’t want to go, then don’t.”
“I want to!”
Linia shook her head vigorously, then turned to Idel and Daisy.
“Well? What are you waiting for? Let’s go.”
“Wait, us too?” Idel hesitated, confused.
“If you don’t enjoy being stared at, you’d better come along,” Laszlo said casually.
Only then did Idel notice that people were still sneaking glances at them, the artists included. With the earlier commotion, sitting for a portrait here no longer seemed like a good idea.
‘Besides, I do feel bad for Daisy…’
Idel nodded and followed Laszlo, with Daisy in tow.
The place Laszlo took them to was the studio of a renowned portrait artist. Though it appeared to require reservations, a few words from Laszlo quickly got them inside.
“A pastel portrait? You’ve come to the right place! We can have it ready in under 30 minutes,” the artist said with a bright smile, brimming with confidence.
Pastel portraits had become a trend among commoners, eager to imitate the aristocracy. Ironically, the trend had spread among the nobles themselves.
“Normally, commissioning a portrait takes over a month, even at the fastest. But pastel art allows for
much quicker completion, and it’s affordable enough to approach casually,” the artist explained.
The studio’s walls were lined with completed portraits waiting to be collected, each far superior in quality to the works sold on the bridge.
The studio’s refined atmosphere matched its aristocratic clientele—clean, well-lit, and furnished with spacious, comfortable chairs.
