You are at the End of the Downfall

Would Peon really fire the butler? This was the second time he had mentioned replacing him, and there was also the issue with the head maid. Given his actions so far, it seemed quite possible.

That’s right. Kaela didn’t fully trust him. How could she trust Peon, her who had been imprisoned, starved, and gratefully drank poison to die? The only things she trusted were the small vial in her pocket and her experience of dying once.

Having died once, she could die again. She could endure it.

“Here are the letters for Your Highness.”

Kaela wondered how many of these silver trays were left as she looked at the tray on which the butler had placed several letters. The inventory of silver tableware was shockingly low.

“Thank you.”

How many letters could there be for a Grand Duchess who had just risen from her seat? At most, it should just be a letter from her father in Ostein, but there were quite a few letters.

“Are you working on selecting a head maid?”

Immediately, Cecile and Denise shot a glance at the butler. This was precisely the problem with that Rolf Anderson ‘Baron’.

The butler should have kept his mouth shut until the Grand Duchess gave orders. Or he should have asked very carefully. But every time he faced Kaela, he kept harping on about the head maid, acting like a superior checking on her work. It made her want to open up his head and see exactly how the concepts of status and hierarchy were arranged in there.

“I haven’t forgotten.”

There was no point in arguing; this man’s bad habit would persist. Knowing that he would likely retaliate privately against the laughable Grand Duchess no matter what she said, Kaela was too tired to bother dealing with him.

They would deliberately send in maids who kept making mistakes, or make them purposely err, and if Kaela said anything, they would cry and claim they did their best, making Kaela look like the bad person.

“As it happens, all the letter senders are good candidates for the head maid position. Your Highness can refer to them when choosing.”

“I understand. You may go.”

“Yes.”

When Kaela waved her hand, the butler had no choice but to leave. As the door closed, Cecile, who had been wearing a dumb expression, turned to Kaela.

“Just now… did he just say he had already seen who wrote the letters to Your Highness…”

“Censorship is normal. This isn’t a palace, it’s a fortress, Cecile.”

“But to say ‘you can refer to them,’ not even ‘please refer to them’…”

Cecile stammered, unable to properly string her words together. How dare he take such an impertinent attitude towards the noble Princess of Ostein, the Emperor’s niece!

“Minor speech habits aren’t important here.”

Kaela muttered without even smiling as she examined the letters.

“But Your Highness, how you speak is so important. In Ostein…”

“This isn’t Ostein, and the more we talk like that, the more we’ll be treated as foreigners.”

Cecile wasn’t one to avoid conflict, and she had died from illness after enduring and enduring here with Kaela. Given that the treatment of the Grand Duchess’s maids was likely worse than that of the Grand Duchess herself, it was perhaps natural that Cecile would be the first to break down.

Kaela spoke firmly as she opened the letters. Perhaps she should send Cecile back even before young Marie. She needed to send her back well, and also establish a plausible reason for doing so. Everything was exhausting.

“Why would the ladies of Lusenford write to Your Highness?”

Letters had been sent by the ladies Kaela found tiresome, including Yolnes Pare, who claimed to be the wife of the gate guard, and Alicia Rulmon from her birth family, whom she had tried to introduce.

“They’re asking to meet me.”

Kaela perfunctorily opened the rest of the letters, skimmed through them, and pushed them away.

“Burn them all.”

Unless the Grand Duchess summoned them, the ladies couldn’t visit her. So they were requesting in writing to be called first.

It was obvious that they were all aiming for the vacant position of head maid. Of course, Kaela had no intention whatsoever of bringing in the associates of the former head maid, Doris Windgood.

‘Head maid, huh.’

Dealing with people was the most bothersome and troublesome task. The position of head maid itself was also quite tiresome.

She thought it might be easier to just not have one. No matter who took the position, they would ultimately be from Lusenford, just another person to torment Kaela.

But with all this fuss, it might be more peaceful to just appoint someone. Then again, it seemed ridiculous that she couldn’t appoint a head maid when she had been meticulously checking ledgers and even verifying silver tableware inventory in the middle of the night.

It would be convenient for Kaela to assign Cecile, but she didn’t want to burden Cecile, who wasn’t a local, even more. Besides, Cecile, along with Denise and Marie, were set to return to Ostein.

“Denise, could you please go and see what His Highness the Grand Duke is doing?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Originally, to see the Grand Duke’s face, one always had to inquire around and carefully time it.

Feeling like she had returned to those times when even a single conversation with her husband was so difficult, Kaela felt suffocated and took a deep breath. No, would he slap her face again?

He’s someone else’s man. Before she died, Kaela had been constantly tormented by her pathetic inability to end her unrequited love and the guilt of doing something she shouldn’t.

By the time her confinement was near, she had given up so much that all she hoped for from Peon was to be respected as the Grand Duchess.

Even now, she had to stay sharp and try to believe Beatrice’s words that he had contributed to her father’s death, and the memory of him trying to starve her to death.

Peon had no feelings for her at all. So she had to maintain boundaries and treat him carefully. Above all, she had to remember that Peon had always been a difficult person to see.

“Um, Your Highness.”

Shortly after Denise left, there was a knock on the door. Cecile went to check and called Kaela with a slightly awkward expression.

“Yes. Tell them to come in.”

It would probably be Denise returning from the Grand Duke’s office on the opposite side of the Grand Duchess’s office where she was sitting. Kaela said without looking up.

“She says to come in.”

“She says to come in”? It’s formal speech, what’s going on? Did something go wrong? Kaela quickly raised her head.

The person entering wasn’t just Denise. Rather, Denise was in the back, and the tall, broad-shouldered Grand Duke in black clothes, looking intimidating, came in.

Kaela jumped up in surprise. Peon slightly furrowed his brow as he looked at the sparse interior of the Grand Duchess’s office, which lacked a cozy feeling, and strode towards her.

She had asked to check the mood, but for him to come directly, something must have gone wrong. Was he upset? Did he think she was spying on him? Kaela, who had turned pale, looked up at the man who instantly filled the office.

“Sit down, Your Highness.”

“Your Highness the Grand Duke.”

Her voice trembled as she barely managed to answer. Her large eyes were full of bewilderment and fear. Peon, devastated every time he met those eyes, quickly grabbed Kaela’s arms and gently sat her back down.

“Please sit. I came because it seemed you needed me.”

Since when had Kaela been so afraid of him? Why was she afraid? He kept wanting to find reasons elsewhere.

Because he looked scary. Because he was a threatening and rough man. Because he was a partner from a lower class, too inferior for the delicately raised Princess of Ostein. Knowing that these were all excuses and the real essence lay elsewhere, he still acted this way.

“How can I help you?”

Kaela was brave. Even though she was so scared that her small, pale hands were trembling, she answered composedly when he asked.