PSD Chapter 42

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Pink eyes, resembling Lariette’s, trembled nervously. She looked at the woman’s face indifferently.

“Wh-what do you mean? L-Lariette… N-no, how could Her Grace the Archduchess just disappear?”

Her trembling form made it seem like Milena had been bullying her. Milena clicked her tongue inwardly. No wonder people kept calling her a villainess. They thought she was tormenting Lariette’s birth mother.

Lariette’s birth mother was of such low status that she couldn’t even be officially recognized as a concubine. Becoming the countess was completely out of the question. The count cared too much about appearances to ignore the scornful stares of others.

Bringing an illegitimate child into the household was already scandalous, but if he were to raise her mother to the position of official wife, it would only invite further gossip and degrade the family’s dignity.

And the count wasn’t the type of man to endure such consequences. So he placed a noblewoman in the position of legal wife, while secretly bringing in the woman he loved as a maid.

Though she was the Archduchess’s mother, she had to live in hiding. She couldn’t even call her daughter her own.

She lived as if dead, sacrificing herself for her daughter who had risen to such a high status. Or perhaps it wasn’t even a sacrifice—after all, she got to live with the man she loved.

“M-my lady! Please, answer me…!”

“Milena, my dear.”

As the desperate maid reached out her hand, a man stepped in to stop her. Lexion pulled Milena close, wrapping her securely in his arms.

“There are far too many rude people here. Should I knock them all down?”

Knock down? What? As Milena blinked slowly, she looked at the man who was staring at her cheek. Only then did she feel a dull throbbing pain there.

“Hmm? My wife shouldn’t be treated like this.”

His gaze, gently brushing her cheek, turned sharp as it shifted to the head maid. The woman flinched and took a step back. The Countess, who had been quietly observing Lexion’s behavior, finally stepped forward.

“Who are you to lay hands on my daughter? Even if you’re courting her, openly displaying affection like this is…”

Milena stepped in, returning the Countess’s disapproving look.

“He’s my husband, madam.”

Husband? The Countess, who had been keeping a dignified expression, furrowed her brows.

“I recently made my marriage vows.”

Without even discussing it with the family? Despite reading the shock on the Countess’s face, Milena introduced them calmly.

“Lexion, say hello. This is Countess Chamber Lastia. And madam, this is…”

“I’m Lexion Silbert.”

“Silbert?”

The Duke of Silbert. The northern folks gasped in shock at the name they all knew well. As the servants bowed deeper, the Countess’s eye twitched slightly at Lexion’s name—though maybe that was just Milena’s imagination.

“That’s enough. I’ll be going to my room now. Is it still there?”

“Yes.”

The Countess composed her expression again and replied. As Milena turned to head into the manor, Lariette’s birth mother, who had been hesitating, finally moved.

“W-wait, my lady!”

The maid’s outstretched hand never reached Milena. Her body froze mid-motion, as if by magic.

Milena saw Lexion casually snap his fingers.

Was it really okay to show him the state of this family? She sighed and gestured subtly toward the distant figure of the Count, who stood there stupidly.

“If you’re that curious about Lariette, ask the Count.”

Remembering how she nearly died and was forced into an unplanned marriage all because of Lariette, she suppressed the irritation bubbling up.

Leaving them behind, she stepped into the estate for the first time in years. Lexion and Ashid followed her.

Everyone seemed curious about Ashid, whom they were seeing for the first time in person, but Ashid didn’t give them a chance to approach.

“Milena, should we spend the night here?”

“Do we have to?”

“Yes, we do.”

What was he plotting? Well, they did need to rest before heading to the capital. It made more sense to stay here than to find an inn in town. As she climbed the stairs, Milena nodded.

“Alright.”

“Auntie, auntie, can I sleep with you tonight? Can I see your room?”

Before Milena could reply, Lexion answered instead.

“Oh dear, little nephew. We’re newlyweds, you know.”

“Hmph, it’s just a contract marriage.”

“Hey now, watch your mouth.”

“Whatever! Uncle, you’re dumb. Auntie’s always mine!”

“Then let’s all sleep together.”

“…?”

“…!”

The two men froze at her unexpected suggestion.

“What are you talking about?”

“No way! Auntie, you can’t be serious!”

The once-quiet count’s house was now in complete turmoil. After Milena’s boisterous group disappeared from sight, those left behind could only gape in shock, unable to comprehend what was happening.

“Send someone to the Archduchy at once!”

The Count finally came to his senses and began scheming. Milena, unconcerned, headed to her room—the secluded one closest to the attic.

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Before entering Milena’s room, Lexion stood in the empty hallway, forming a dark mass of magic. From the black sphere came the sound of wind, like horses galloping.

“Zer.”

[Yes, my lord.]

“The Count seems to be sending someone to the Archduchy. Handle it.”

[Understood. Should I just leak some basic information for now?]

“Yes.”

The Count needed to have some grasp of the situation to be properly intimidated. Threats didn’t work on ignorant fools. People who acted high and mighty without understanding the big picture were the most annoying to deal with—best to preempt them.

Lexion opened his mouth to give further instructions but paused when he felt someone watching him. He turned his gaze.

At the end of the hallway, a woman was staring at him. When their eyes met, Lexion politely bowed his head. The woman also returned the bow, expressionless, and disappeared down another corridor. Her atmosphere was gloomy.

She neither looked like Milena nor resembled her in any physical way, but something about that expression… perhaps a similar sense of resignation, or even detachment from the world.

“Hm. The Countess, is it?”

Lexion opened his mouth again. To others, it would appear as though he was just standing quietly in the corridor.

“Zer, investigate this household too.”

[I already looked into it after noticing how they treat Madam. It’s a real mess.]

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The room Milena returned to after five years was just as she had left it. Not a speck of dust—seemed like the Countess had maintained it.

“Auntie, the bed feels small.”

“I haven’t changed it since I was little. But it should still be fine to sleep in.”

Ashid furrowed his brows. At the Archduchy, furniture and wallpaper were updated every season. Just how many years had this room been neglected? Even Lexion couldn’t hide his displeasure as he followed her in.

“This room is quite… cozy.”

Of course it was. Tucked into the farthest corner of the mansion, barely touched by the servants. Originally a guest room, it had become hers after being used as punishment by the Count. The sunniest, largest room belonged to Lariette.

‘Was it always this small?’

She hadn’t thought so before, but now, with a child and a grown man in the room, it felt cramped.

“You said we needed to hurry to the capital, right? Zer told me. That the family head is unwell and we should get there quickly. Should we leave now?”

All she needed from this place were her mother’s keepsakes. She had no fondness or attachment to this house. She offered to leave tonight, but Lexion shook his head.

“No, I like it here.”

“Alright. Just one night, then.”

Even after stepping into the mansion, she felt no urge to lash out or stir up trouble. Surprisingly, she was calm. The anxiety she had felt before vanished, leaving her relieved.

She had feared painful memories would resurface, but thankfully, nothing of the sort happened.

Still, sleeping all together in the same room seemed odd. She looked around and suggested they prepare separate rooms, but both men declined.

The butler came to inform them that, for the sake of the esteemed guest—specifically the grandson—the Count would be hosting a dinner banquet.

Until then, Milena showed Lexion and Ashid around the mansion, as Ashid had expressed a desire to see where she had grown up.

“Nephew, that’s not how you do it.”

“Be quiet. It’s not working!”

Though it was supposedly a tour of her childhood home, their eyes seemed suspiciously observant. What were these two whispering about behind her back?

“My lady, dinner is ready.”

“…”

She looked at the maid who had bowed deeply without saying a word. A new face. It seemed all the servants who had tormented her had been replaced.