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

<Episode 154>

 

Count Rosebell and I both denied it almost simultaneously.

 

“That’s not true.”

“It’s the opposite.”

 

Marquis Clapenweaver had a troubled expression, unsure which side to rebuke. Then he turned to Rosebell Count, not me.

 

“Why do you object? You know very well that there is no other groom like Duke Raphael in the Empire, no, in the entire continent.”

 

“It doesn’t have anything to do with him being the best groom or not. Isn’t the Marquis being strange? It’s the sister of the man he called his younger brother, the connection would become weird when they both form a family together.”

 

Who is connected to whom? Isn’t that going too far?

 

“But there’s no problem with the Duke’s attitude towards the Viscount, is there?”

“If the Duke was still like before, I would have seen it in a positive light as well.”

 

“Do you mean that’s not the case now?”

“Yes, he has changed a lot. He has learned to let go of things he considers non-vital. I’m not saying it’s wrong of him. He’s just had to take on a position where he can’t help it.”

 

The Marquis of Calpenweaver nodded his head with a somewhat agreeing expression.

But what surprised me more than the fact that Raphael learned to let go of ‘unnecessary things’ was the sincerity that these gentlemen were talking about other people’s love affairs with.

 

“To be honest, I was quite surprised by the Duke’s recent behavior. I thought he had completely let go of any lingering attachment for Andert, no, Count Vladiev… but he seems to be very attached to Viscount Weatherwoods.”

 

“Count Vladiev and the Duke had a relationship in which such a thing can only be considered natural.”

 

“But I don’t think that’s the same thing with Viscount Weatherwoods. I don’t think it’s particularly problematic to equate the Viscount with Andert. However, if one day, the Duke ever lets go of his lingering feelings for Count Vladiev, his interest in the Viscount might not be the same. He might even see her as a thorn in his side. I’m concerned about that.”

 

Only then did I understand why Count Rosebell was showing such uncharacteristic interest in other people’s love affairs.

 

 

‘He was worried about me.’

 

Come to think of it, he had given me similar advice during the hunting banquet. I stepped forward to alleviate Count Rosebell’s worries.

 

“Your worries are unnecessary. I have no intention of getting involved with Raphael beyond friendship.”

 

“…Hmm. I’m glad the Viscount feels that way.”

 

Count Rogenhoff, who had been silently observing, chuckled and spoke.

 

“It hasn’t been long since you met, but if someone sees the two of you, they might think the Count is the Godfather of Viscount Weatherwoods.”

 

Count Rosebell snorted at Count Rogenhoff’s remark.

 

“Perhaps not a godfather, but I was her younger brother’s mentor. That’s a very close relationship.”

 

“Oh? Who is whose mentor now?”

 

“Hmm. Did you become deaf at such a young age? This old man said that I was the mentor of Andert Fager, no, Count Andert Vladiev.”

 

“The mentor of the Hero. You’re joking. It’s a shame that Vladiev left first, he would have objected immediately with a straight face.”

 

Amidst the intense back-and-forth, I, who was at the center of the conversation, felt a slight regret.

 

‘If I had known you would be so happy with just the term ‘mentor,’ I would have called you that more often before I died.’

 

 

It wasn’t even that great of a thing.

 

 

It wasn’t that the past me didn’t consider Count Rosebell and the Swordmaster as my mentors. It was more like I couldn’t dare to call them mentors. I thought they would find it unpleasant if I referred to myself as their disciple just because they granted me a few favors sometimes.

 

Even if Count Rosebell, the person in question, once jokingly said, “At this point, shouldn’t you and I share the master and disciple cup?” I believed he was only being considerate.

 

But it wasn’t just consideration; it was genuine sincerity.

 

Was it because a lot of time had passed that I could now reflect on my past mistakes? Or Was it because I was no longer Andert?

 

‘If the latter is the answer, it’s a bit sad.’

 

Because it meant I didn’t get the chance to know these things in Andert’s lifetime.

 

 

While the three heroes were seriously discussing the criteria for a mentor, I quietly stepped back and slipped away from them. The swordmaster, who was standing across the path, greeted me.

 

“Did you have a good chat with your old comrades? It’s time to go now.”

 

He naturally took my umbrella back.

As I looked up at the man who still maintained an appearance similar to the age of Andert, while Count Rosebell had grown older with more white hair and deeper wrinkles over the past four years, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia.

 

 

Everytime I saw him, I realized just how much a person’s eyes could affect other people’s perception of them. When I stared into the swordmaster’s eyes, it felt like I was facing an old warrior, not a young man in his 30s.

 

“If you have something to say, say it.”

 

The swordmaster said.

 

It seemed like our relationship was gradually getting closer. After having various conversations with Count Rosebell, my mind felt unsettled. Count Rosebell had undoubtedly been an excellent teacher, but I’d learned more from the swordmaster.

 

‘So if Count Rosebell is my benefactor, then the Swordmaster is the benefactor among my benefactors.’

 

However, the swordmaster has many suspicious aspects. I couldn’t accurately grasp what he wanted, and that enigmatic aspect could be more dangerous than an enemy who clearly showed their desire from time to time.

 

Therefore, I didn’t want to lose myself in my gratitude and weaken my resolve when dealing with the swordmaster. To steady that determination, I decided to be a bit more explicit when talking with the swordmaster than I’d initially planned.

 

“I heard that the Duke possesses Dian Cecht’s hand-mirror.”

An expression of interest rose on the swordmaster’s face, which had been as cold and firm as a marble statue.

 

“Yes, I do possess it. Just like how you possess the eyeballs and the diary. Come to think of it, I even had my dairy stolen from me.”

 

“I don’t remember such a thing. It seems like the Head Maid of Weatherwoods brought in a similar item from somewhere.”

 

“How shameless. You should know that the crime of coveting Imperial treasures is by no means light.”

 

“I just found out now. I will keep that in mind from now on. Of course, I have no connection to that treasure whatsoever.”

 

The swordmaster smirked and asked me.

 

“So, are you asking me to hand it over to you?”

“Yes, I need Dian Cecht’s hand mirror. I will pay whatever price you wish, so hand it over to me, please.”

 

After the words left my mouth, I regretted them for nothing.

 

‘Count Rosebell’s inheritance.. Should I have just accepted the property?’

 

I boldly declared that I would pay any price, but what if the swordmaster demands an exorbitant amount? What if he asks for an impossible price? There would be nothing I could do then. Whether or not he was my mentor and benefactor, I’d just have to steal.

 

However, the swordmaster’s reaction was much more rational than I expected.

“Why do you need that thing?”

 

But that rational question dragged my mind into a more complicated maze.

 

‘Should I answer honestly?’

 

No, I didn’t know about Raphael, but the swordmaster was different. It could become a weakness. Above all, the swordmaster wasn’t the type to hand it over just out of compassion.

 

“I cannot disclose that part.”

 

“If you can’t tell me, it’s going to be difficult. It’s being used for an important experiment.”

“…An experiment?”

 

The swordmaster, with a contemplative gaze, slowly responded.

 

“Dian Cecht is a renowned healer. The relics of Dian Cecht are etched with incomprehensible ancient magic. If we can extract it, even with just one of the five relics, we might be able to activate the magic without even gathering them all.”

 

Extracting ancient magic through the relics? It was a creative idea that I had never even considered. It was so creative that it made me question the swordmaster’s relic.

 

“It’s magic inscribed by a demi-god. How can you activate it with just one relic?”

 

“Your doubt is natural, Viscount. I, too, once believed that it was impossible to revive the dead. Until I saw the devils again myself.”

 

The swordmaster scrutinized my face with a snake-like gaze. Then, he quickly displayed a surprised expression.

 

“You’re not surprised. Did you already know? I hadn’t expected you to delve so deep. As expected, that Alpen Serenier was no ordinary man.”

 

“So, what do you intend to use the extracted magic for? Are you planning to resurrect a corpse?”

 

The swordmaster skillfully responded to my sneer.

 

“Mental therapy.”

“Mental therapy?”

 

“If it’s a divine healing technique, it can treat not only the physical body but also the mind. If ‘it’ can be classified as an illness.”

 

Mental therapy.

Duke Jurian Berkeley-Gratten and Mental therapy.

 

“There was a time when the Berkeley Gratten family led biological magic procedures.”

“I know that they received mental therapy through similar techniques. It was for treating the trauma left in the aftermath of the magic war.”

 

Was he referring to the aftermath of the magic war?

 

‘But the order doesn’t match.’

 

Didn’t the veterans receive mental therapy a long time ago? This meant that the therapy the swordmaster was talking about wasn’t for them, but someone else.

 

Using the power of the Demi-god Dian Cecht, no less.

 

“Who is it?”

 

Why would the swordmaster, known as the Emperor’s Sword, sneak into the Imperial Treasury with a secret hideout and steal the diary?

 

First of all, it was clear that it wasn’t the Emperor. If the emperor was suffering from a mental illness, the swordmaster could have simply received the diary from the emperor to treat him instead of stealing it. Directly from the owner, the emperor.

 

‘…Is that really it?’

 

What if the emperor didn’t acknowledge his own mental illness? And what if the swordmaster was independently seeking a solution?

 

“Well…”

 

“Why does someone your age have so many secrets? Wouldn’t things be a lot more clear if you just told me?”

 

“I could consider it.”

 

The swordmaster silently stared at my face for a while. Then, he slowly straightened his back and let out a dry laugh.

 

“I’ve already said it once. I can’t be sure if it’d be good to let you two meet.”

 

At that moment, I recalled the brief conversation we had at the Ragel National Peace Centre.

 

“Do you believe in Princess Natasha?”

 

“I’ll be honest. I am not yet sure whether it will be profitable or not to let you and Princess Natasha meet.”

 

 

After the swordmaster passed by, I clenched my fist, swallowing my dry saliva.

 

‘It wasn’t the emperor, it was Natasha.’

What the hell happened to Natasha?

 

The two attendants standing beside me pulled the tightly closed doors open from both sides.

---

 

Damn now I feel guilty for thinking so badly of the swordmaster. If he really was trying to treat natasha’s trauma… aaa