Episode 102
“Yes. While he wasn’t directly sponsored by the duke’s household like you, Miss, his academic performance at the academy was exceptional. He was selected as a scholarship recipient from the foundation funded by donations from Kallios.”
“…”
“At the time, Jester was managing the donation funds, and it seems that connection eventually led to his employment with the duke’s household…”
The butler continued to explain, but his words barely registered in my mind.
A child from the temple orphanage… working as a spy for the temple?
Most orphanage children, like me, harbored no goodwill toward the temple.
The orphanages, once established in accordance with the wishes of the first Saintess, had long since degraded into mere money-making schemes, exploiting the children under their care.
Moreover, children with abilities, like Ismail and me, often had those powers unjustly taken from us.
That’s why Logan’s background as a temple orphan—and his suspected role as the temple’s spy—felt all the more shocking.
Five years… that’s right after Joshua was born.
“That brat needs to die as soon as possible so that the Kallios fools lose their focus…!”
The vivid memory of Dunkeskeyi’s voice, talking about hastening Joshua’s death to distract the Kallios family, resurfaced in my mind.
‘Could it be… that Emma and that Swell scoundrel were intentionally planted?’
Traumas and deficiencies formed during childhood often have a lasting impact.
A prime example is myself.
‘Like how the abuse and comparisons I endured in the temple left me somewhat broken for life.’
‘If the temple and Logan collaborated to deliberately place incompetent servants around the brothers…’
Servants meant to closely care for the duke’s children.
A swordsmanship instructor who instilled trauma. A nanny who sowed discord and favoritism, creating emotional voids.
‘By destabilizing the mental and emotional state of the duke’s only heir early on, they ensured he wouldn’t bond with his family and would seek solace elsewhere.’
‘With Joshua’s death as the pinnacle, the hierarchy among the servants would crumble, shaking the very foundations of the duke’s household.’
‘During the resulting chaos, the spy sent by the temple would leak the once-impenetrable family’s secrets and dismantle its security.’
‘And in the midst of the disorder, they’d exploit the naïve saintess candidate under their sponsorship to stir further troubles.’
All of this pointed to a single conclusion.
‘Kallios’s downfall.’
I felt my breath catch.
At the same time, a chilling thought overtook my mind.
‘Perhaps the duke’s family’s ruin in my previous life wasn’t solely my fault.’
‘It might have been a meticulously planned scheme, set in motion long before I even realized…’
“…My lady?”
The butler’s voice snapped me out of my dreadful thoughts.
“My lady, are you unwell? You look pale.”
“H-Huh? No, I’m fine!”
Remembering I was in the middle of a conversation, I hurriedly shook my head.
“I’ll fetch Mr. Gordon right away.”
But noticing my pale complexion, the butler seemed determined to leave the room immediately.
Left with no choice, I blurted out a childish excuse, the kind a five-year-old might use.
“Actually, I think I need to fart… and I’m holding it in! Haha!”
“Ah, I see. Goodness, you gave this old man quite a fright. Please don’t worry about me next time and let it out freely. Holding it in can make you ill.”
“Mhm…”
Fortunately, it worked, probably because Joshua often used similar excuses.
As I awkwardly nodded at his serious advice, he suddenly asked, “But why did you ask about Logan? Did he happen to act rudely toward you?”
“No, no! It’s nothing like that! I was just… curious. I saw him earlier while talking to the duke!”
“Is that so?”
The butler nodded, his expression turning solemn.
“Perhaps because he’s from a temple orphanage, Logan is quite sensitive about matters related to the temple. If he was disrespectful to you in any way, please don’t hesitate to tell me.”
“Mhm! I’ll let you know!”
“Then, I’ll deliver this and take my leave.”
With a polite bow, the butler exited the room.
Not long after, Tara, who had gone to prepare for our outing, returned.
“My lady, the carriage is ready. Shall we leave now?”
“Mhm. But first, there’s somewhere I need to stop by.”
“Where would that be?”
“I need to get permission to leave…”
“Permission? The duke left for an outing right after lunch. From whom would you get it?”
“Phew.”
Though Tara asked in confusion, I let out a deep sigh and stood up.
‘With the duke away, there’s only one person left from whom I can seek permission.’
“From now on, if you’re going out, you must inform either Father or me first. No exceptions.”
“One of us will make time to accompany you. No more wandering around on your own relying on Gomgomdori. That’s strictly forbidden.”
Honestly, I didn’t want to go to the temple with Edwin.
I had matters to discuss with Ismail privately, and I had no idea how to explain the mysterious purple energy that only I could see.
But I couldn’t bring myself to ignore Edwin’s worried gaze and firm request.
‘Ugh, my life. At this age, I still need permission to leave the house…’
Descending to the first floor with Tara, I headed straight to Edwin’s room.
Knock, knock.
“Edwin, are you there? It’s me, Belze!”
I knocked politely, but there was no response.
“Uh… Is he not here?”
“Could he have gone to a lesson?” Tara murmured, tilting her head.
“Should I go find out where he is?”
“No!”
I hastily stopped Tara, who was ready to set off in search of Edwin.
‘This is my chance!’
I had come to ask him to join me, as instructed. But with him absent, I’d have no choice but to go alone.
“Tara! Get me a pen and paper!”
Rushing back to my room, I quickly scribbled a note for Edwin.
‘This should keep him from getting mad, right?’
Pleased with my hastily written note, I hurriedly stuck it in the gap of Edwin’s door.
Then, feeling unburdened, I headed outside.
Tara, waiting by the carriage, handed me Gomgomdori.
“My lady, are you ready now?”
“Mhm! Let’s go!”
“I’ve loaded everything. The chef asked me to tell you that he put his heart and soul into today’s preparations to cheer you up!”
“Wow! Chef is the best!”
The carriage set off toward the temple.
Not long after, the door to Edwin’s room creaked open.
Rustle, rustle.
As Edwin entered, he noticed a piece of paper on the floor near the doorway. He paused.
“What is this…?”
Picking up the note, Edwin read it, then let out a humorless laugh, his expression one of disbelief.
“‘I’ll take care of it. No worries.’ Not ‘붕명’ but ‘분명’… Really?”
He had clearly stated he would accompany her on outings. Yet, she’d gleefully left with nothing but this slip of paper as her excuse.
Thinking about the pint-sized troublemaker who had likely dashed off without a care, he felt a twinge of annoyance.
As he stared down at the cutesy, childlike handwriting, a sound behind him drew his attention. Turning, he saw the butler approaching with a tray of refreshments.
“Ah, your lesson’s finished, young master. I brought some snacks for you to enjoy before the next session. Thanks to Miss Belze, the chef outdid himself today…”
“Butler, can we delay the next lesson?”
Edwin cut him off abruptly, his tone urgent.
The butler hesitated, looking troubled.
“Mr. Bolton is already waiting in the parlor. You postponed this lesson yesterday to fetch Miss Belze, so canceling again might damage your reputation…”
Edwin’s tutors were renowned scholars, proud and not easily trifled with. Frequent cancellations could reflect poorly on him.
Realizing he couldn’t chase after Belze immediately, Edwin let out a frustrated sigh.
“Is this about Miss Belze, young master?”
The butler’s cautious tone only made Edwin’s irritation grow.
“Don’t worry too much. She’s just gone to meet some friends. What could possibly happen?”
“She doesn’t have friends. She probably went to see that guy.”
“‘That guy’? Who do you mean…?”
The butler looked confused, but Edwin didn’t answer. Instead, he sighed again, annoyed at himself for fretting over a five-year-old.
He knew it was ridiculous.
But that didn’t mean he could ignore it.
“She wasn’t like this before…”
Staring at the handwriting on the note once more, Edwin muttered darkly,
“Why are there so many pests buzzing around her? It’s infuriating.”
Meanwhile, an unexpected visitor arrived at the Crown Prince’s palace.
“Your Highness, something has been delivered from Kallios’s secret messenger.”
Jordan, the Crown Prince’s aide, entered the office with a tense expression.
“Secret messenger?”
César paused his work, turning his attention to the items Jordan carefully handed over.
A luxurious box and an envelope sealed with the Kallios crest.
“Was this sent by the Duke? Or the Young Duke?”
“I’m not sure. Judging by the circumstances, though, it seems more likely to have come from the Duke.”
At Jordan’s response, César’s face also tightened as he picked up the envelope.
‘A rejection, perhaps.’
Recalling the conversation he had just yesterday with the child sponsored by the Kallios family, he felt a twinge of unease.
A helper from outside the palace, beyond the Empress’s reach.
Unexpectedly, the young girl, whom the Duke seemed to value, had been a promising candidate.
He had hoped that convincing her might lead the Duke to lend a hand, or at least feign ignorance.
However, the arrival of a secret messenger just a day later could mean the opposite—a rejection or even a warning to stay away.
In the worst-case scenario, the Duke might propose negotiations, using help as a bargaining chip.
To secure an ally, he might have to lay his cards on the table—a situation far less than ideal.
César’s expression hardened as he used a letter opener to slice open the envelope.
And then…
“Ha.”
Reading the few lines scrawled in the middle of the broad, white paper, he let out an involuntary chuckle.
Next, he unwrapped the box and opened the lid, revealing a neatly folded white cloth inside.
“Is this some kind of magical artifact meant as a token of negotiation?”
Jordan, still visibly nervous, asked cautiously. César, his tension suddenly dissipating, tilted the box to show him its contents.
“It’s a cravat.”
“A… cravat?”
“Yeah. Thankfully, it’s not from the Duke or the Young Duke.”
“…”
“It’s a gift to commemorate our newfound ‘friendship.’”
As César lightly waved the letter with a hollow laugh, Jordan, standing frozen, suddenly shouted.
“What kind of young lady sends something like that so secretly?!”
“Exactly.”
César shrugged lightly, glancing again at the writing on the letter.
For some reason, he could vividly hear her clear voice echoing in his ears.
“Just as I thought back then… she’s really…”
“…”
“Adorable.”
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