The Peaceful Life of a Maid Who Hides Her Power and Enjoys It

<Episode 130>

 

It was definitely a small voice, intended for only me to hear.

 

Nevertheless, the old men’s eyes became sharper. They must have heard it without difficulty, considering they honed their five senses rolling around on the battlefield.

I consciously didn’t look back at Raphael.

 

Instead, I searched for the swordmaster. Despite the futile gesture I made towards him, he didn’t even turn his head in my direction.

 

Clink.

 

“The ten minutes are over.”

Whether by chance or by necessity, the servant stepped back before I could tell him my answer.

 

Finally, the swordmaster looked at me.

 

Without a moment’s hesitation, he met my gaze directly and seemed to be asking for an answer with a very confident expression. It was as if he didn’t even consider the possibility of me refusing.

 

‘Could it be that he wants to be in a group with me?’

It was just an ordinary, no feelings proposition, right?

…right?

 

‘No, that might be too narrow-minded of a judgement. The one who fed me the swordmaster’s heart is most likely the swordmaster. Moreover, he is connected not only to the royal family and Natasha but also to Gavroche… It’s better to think about this more carefully.’

 

Also, I’m sure my opponent is thinking the same thing as me.

The swordmaster was more than confident. That the regretful side if I were to refuse would be.

 

The moment one side develops a desire for something from the other person, the relationship inevitably crumbles. The swordmaster was someone who would peel off that advantage and eat it whole. So it was best to maintain a reasonable boundary with him.

 

Having made up my mind, instead of moving my lips, I raised the napkin and revealed a gray pattern.

 

The swordmaster lightly winked at me and turned his head back to the stage. How audacious.

Raphael asked me.

 

“Have you ever spoken privately with Duke Jurian?”

 

I answered with as nonchalant a face as possible.

 

“I heard he was like a mentor to Andert. Did I make a mistake?”

“No, that’s correct. I just didn’t think the Duke would be interested in my sister’s pattern.”

“I guess he’s curious about my hunting skills. Or maybe he’s interested in the person themselves.”

 

I smiled, making eye contact with Raphael.

 

“You feel the same way, don’t you?”

“…”

“Just the fact that I am Andert’s sister makes everyone show interest in me. I’m not trying to mock your kindness, of course, I’m just trying to say that the swordmaster acting familiar with me is no surprise.”

 

So let’s just move on.

I felt sorry for Raphael, but I had no intention of devoting my body and soul to the corps.

Just as they had their purpose, I had my own. Our only common target was the Imperial family.

 

Hence, we were not a team anymore.

 

Since our paths diverged, there is no need to share every detail and secret. Even if it feels a bit lonely, it’s an emotion that should naturally fade away.

 

Raphae’s ruby-like eyes gradually dimmed. He parted his lips reluctantly, with a gaze that was hard to read his inner thoughts.

 

“It’s not because you’re Andert’s sister that I’m maintaining this attitude with you.”

“…Then?”

 

Raphael, who’d staring into my eyes, turned away without answering.

While I was looking at him uncomfortably, the first dish was served.

 

‘A strange fish dish with romaine salad and carrots… It’s weird.’

 

The servant tried to explain it to me, but I didn’t listen. No matter what, the amount was too small, wasn’t it?

 

‘I eat twice as much as an average adult male.’

 

I knew there were several more dishes to come, but I still felt like my energy was draining away.

This was all because of the Head Maid. I had to skip lunch while she was fussing about my dress.

 

As I forcefully shoved the salad into my mouth, the host reappeared.

 

“Let us begin the selection of the groups.”

 

What? We were supposed to do the selection while eating? Some people get indigestion in case something doesn’t work out for them, you know?

 

“The selection is a partner nomination ceremony, and the authority to name a partner is based on last year’s hunting competition rankings. A total of 50 teams, consisting of 44 teams determined at the banquet and 6 teams invited from abroad, will participate in the hunting competition.”

 

After the chandelier’s lights completely dimmed, the candles on the table were lit.

 

However, not all the candles were lit. Only the ones placed in front of certain attendees, including Raphael and Count Rosebell, were lit.

 

Looking at the 22 lit candles on this side of the table and the 22 lit candles on the opposite side, it seemed that the 44 individuals with the ‘Partner Naming Rights’ had their candles lit.

 

“Coincidentally, last year’s hunting competition ended in a tie between Duke Jurian Berkeley-Gratten and Duke Raphael Zenail. Which one of you would like to concede the first turn?”

 

They tied in last year’s hunting competition. It was quite surprising information.

 

‘They seem to be participating more actively than I thought.’

 

Well, in a competition like this, the approach the influential figures took was important.

Moreover, Raphael, who seemed disinclined to participate in matters of society usually, did not seem like he wanted to engage in some silly contest with the Emperor’s sword.

 

That’s why I looked at Raphael, not the swordmaster.

Why? Because I naturally expected him to concede his turn.

 

Contrary to my expectations, however, Raphael remained silent.

It seemed like everyone was thinking the same thing, considering they turned their heads here from time to time to look at this side. Count Rosebell, with a rare expression of confusion, called out to Raphael.

 

“Your Excellency.”

 

But Raphael, without saying a word, only shook his wine glass slowly, and the answer came from the other side, not him.

 

“I’ll yield.”

It was an easy-going attitude.

The Host stared at Raphael’s candle, brightly illuminated in the darkness, with unwavering eyes.

 

“Duke Berkeley-Gratten has conceded his turn. Duke Raphael Zenail, with whom would you like to team up with?”

 

The answer was straightforward.

“Daisy Weatherwoods.”

 

It was the name everyone expected, so there was little commotion. The eyes stealing glances at my face only grew slightly.

 

If there’s a problem, it would be the next one, I suppose.

 

“The first team has been decided. For the second team, Duke Berkeley-Gratten, with whom would you like to form a team?”

 

“Daisy Weatherwoods.”

 

The swordmaster confidently uttered my name.

“…….”

 

For the first time, a bewildered expression crossed the usually stoic face of the Host.

But no matter how bewildered the host may be, he wouldn’t be as bewildered as I am.

 

Yeah, so what if you think this is absurd? Are you the only one?

Are you?

 

I glared at the swordmaster, whose face was shining brightly like the moon, reflected in the candlelight beyond the darkness.

 

‘What kind of scheme are you planning now?’

 

That gaze, only fixated on the host, couldn’t be more unlucky. Why is he calling out my name but not looking at me?

 

‘Ha. To think that you would dare to call your swordsmanship teacher unlucky.’

 

Oh well, this ungrateful disciple will just continue to live ungratefully.

The Host, regaining his composure, glanced at me.

 

“You’ve conceded your turn, so you must choose another partner.”

 

However, the response waiting for him was nothing short of optimistic.

“I said I’d concede my turn, not my partner.”

Thanks to that, the atmosphere at the banquet quickly became chaotic.

 

The excitement of the Marquis Calpen sitting across from me was palpable. That face, as if he was about to die from amusement, made me feel like I was going to die of anger.

 

‘I thought someone might get digestion if something didn’t go right. That turned out to be me.’

 

To avoid indigestion, I delicately returned a forked carrot back to my plate.

This is a little uncomfortable.

 

Raphael, who had been staring at the swordmaster for a while, proposed to the Host.

 

“I don’t think it’s a matter that requires deep consideration. Let the person in question choose their partner.”

 

The Host turned to me with a half-resigned expression.

 

“Agreed.”

 

Without hesitation, the swordmaster accepted. And this time, everyone’s gaze fell on me.

“That seems to be the wisest course of action. Alright. Viscount Daisy Weathrwoods, with whom would you like to be paired up with?”

 

Was that so?

Was it finally my turn to choose?

 

‘…At this point, you could call it fate.’

My partner and I were destined to be together.

 

The two Dukes who nominated me seemed confident that I would choose them respectively. Of course, both sides had their reasons for their unwavering confidence.

 

To Raphael and the Swordmaster, I apologize.

I will go my own way.

 

“Rowayne Werkhord.”

 

“…”

 

“…”

 

“…Pardon?”

 

I’d already braced myself for the shock it delivered to the world, and confidently shouted my partner’s name.

 

“I’ll say it again to make sure you didn’t mishear. Rowayne Werkhord.”

 

And I remembered the conversation I had a few days ago with Viscountess Werkhord, who’d visited the Weatherwoods mansion.

 

“So, what my lady desires is not marriage between me and Sir Rowayne, but…”

“Yes, it’s the buzz of Viscount Weatherwoods.”

“Buzz?”

“I wish to increase Rowayne’s value through Viscount Weatherwoods.”

 

Sensationalism.

The reason Mrs. Werkhord wanted to use me for.

 

“All you need to do is give me a simple signal. If you are designated as the first hunter of the hunt, please empty the wine glass after finishing the wine. On the other hand, if you are designated as the second hunter of the hunt, please leave the wine glass as it is. If you do this, I’ll take care of everything else for Rowayne.”

 

“What if we can’t be on the same team?”

“Don’t worry about that, Viscount. There are plenty of alternatives.”

 

The signal to be sent when possessing the gray pattern was simply a wine glass left filled as it was.

 

With this, the deal between Mrs. Werkhord and me was made.

I gazed at Rowayne, pale and frozen beyond the bright candlelight in front of him, just like Raphael and the swordmaster.

 

Stop panicking and take it nicely, Rowayne.

 

“Hmm. Then what benefits can I gain by selling my buzz to your side?”

The winner of the Hunting Competition would be Viscount Daisy Weatherwoods.

---

 

Poor Rowayne lmao, he can’t get a break ever since he met Daisy