Chapter 19

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: Chapter 19

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"...Thank you for letting me in, miss. Please forgive my rudeness for visiting at such a late hour."

"I'll hear what you have to say first. Whether I let this slide or not, I'll decide after that."

At Iona's response, the maid opened her mouth with a tense expression.

"I know it's hard to believe, but I've come to tell you that Nils is plotting to harm you."

"Nils is trying to kill me?"

Iona tilted her head without a hint of alarm.

Thinking she didn't believe her, the maid hurriedly added,

"I overheard Nils visiting Ivonne and scheming. He wants to get rid of you to block your marriage to the duke and send Ivonne in your place instead. I was chased out midway, so I don't know the details... but it didn't sound like an empty threat."

Iona wasn't acting so nonchalant because she distrusted this whistleblower.

It was simply that Nils's actions felt unbelievably reckless.

'Does he really have no attachment to life?'

She had planned to kill him in the not-too-distant future anyway, but not quite this soon.

And she had no memory of her own life being threatened like this.

Well, not entirely—no, but not at this point in time.

'Guess he didn't like how I've been acting up lately.'

In her previous life, she hadn't rendered Nils's teeth useless or shown any insolence toward the count's family.

In short, she must have seemed like a punching bag to him.

No reason to destroy a drum you could sell for a good price when the chance arose.

But things were different now.

Since she wasn't hiding her hostility, it made sense that Nils would develop some wariness toward her.

Viewing it that way, his quick action even seemed somewhat clever.

Whether he died early or late, their fate was sealed as long as Iona existed.

A last desperate struggle might at least slightly improve his odds of survival.

"Why come to me with this?"

One question lingered: why had this maid gone out of her way to tell her the truth?

It was unlikely she was a spy sent by Nils or the rest of the family.

If they were plotting, they'd have sent her with some other excuse. Alerting Iona to watch them closely gained them nothing.

"Who would want to get involved in something like that? If it gets found out, who knows who'd take the blame."

The maid made a miserable face as she spoke.

Iona murmured quietly.

"I see. You didn't want to be seen as one of Nils or Ivonne's gang."

"That's the consensus among most of the maids under Ivonne."

Her mistress was already willful enough, but violent to boot.

She didn't even properly reward loyalty, so there was no reason for any to remain.

Yet in the past, no one had come to Iona when similar things happened.

She hadn't seemed like someone who could protect them.

Even when Marsha—the one person who had defended Iona—was dismissed, she hadn't put up any resistance...

It was ridiculous. The way people looked at her could change so easily.

'I thought the world had abandoned me, but in truth, I'd abandoned myself.'

Iona sneered faintly and peered into the maid's eyes.

"Does coming to me like this mean you'd like to work for me from now on?"

If she just wanted to avoid blame, there were more indirect ways.

Stepping forward herself, claiming most maids felt the same, meant she saw value worth the risk.

Iona was set to become the duchess, yet she still lacked trustworthy people around her. To a maid, that was opportunity enough for advancement.

"If you need me, I'll bring you whatever information you desire from now on."

"Tell me what you want in return."

"...At this point, it's hard to keep working under Ivonne. If you take me with you when you leave this place, I'll serve you with all my heart."

"What's your name?"

"Cornelia."

Cornelia.

Not a name she remembered.

She'd probably been let go during the house reorganization after becoming Countess Modroff in her previous life. All those who had directly served the Modroff family were dismissed without exception.

And those fired without references struggled to find good jobs afterward.

At the very least, this maid had made the best possible choice for her own future.

"And this..."

"Invitations."

Iona gave a short assessment as she eyed the letters Cornelia pulled from her bosom.

Cornelia nodded.

"These are the ones Ivonne had been withholding. I brought them in case you needed them."

Her quick thinking suggested she'd be quite useful going forward.

Iona had planned to ease into social activities more slowly, but realizing these invitations had piled up sparked a brilliant idea.

Taking the invitations from Cornelia, Iona began scanning the senders' names one by one.

Her gaze stopped at one in particular.

'This one...'

Irene Krueger. An unexpected name.

The young head of Viscount Krueger's family was sociable with a generous spending habit.

Her relaxed atmosphere and fine liquor naturally drew crowds.

Thanks to that, any young noble interested in women made sure to attend Viscount Krueger's parties.

Iona, of course, had been the exception.

Even if she'd received the invitation on time back then, she wouldn't have gone—but now was different.

After pondering deeply for a moment, Iona broke into a smile whose meaning was unclear.

"A duchess would normally rise as a socialite, right?"

***

Of course, becoming a socialite was just a pipe dream after clocking out.

Iona headed to the palace for work as usual and patrolled around Richardt's chambers like always.

Naturally, there wasn't a single stranger nearby, let alone an ant crawling about.

Finding danger in such a secluded part of the palace was as unlikely as spotting a shark in a river.

Reporting all clear to her relief, Iona headed straight to the dining hall for breakfast.

The knight order's cafeteria generously offered breakfast, lunch, dinner, and even midnight snacks.

In other words, the knight order worked its members around the clock, morning, noon, evening, and into the wee hours.

Sure enough, the place was bustling with those who'd already punched in—or hadn't managed to clock out yet.

As Iona got her food and sat down, a nearby knight tried to act familiar.

"Lady Iona, I heard you went on a date?"

Why were people so nosy about others' love lives?

Of course, she and the duke weren't exactly in a romantic relationship...

'No, this time I've set my mind on becoming a proper couple... so maybe?'

She belatedly regretted coming off too businesslike during their last meeting.

She'd been so eager to tout the benefits of marrying her that she'd tensed up excessively.

It wasn't wrong per se—convincing him was necessary to move forward—but still.

'Last time, walking down the aisle wasn't this hard.'

There was a clear shortcut from her past life, but she didn't want to take it again.

Better to bite her tongue and die than that.

With her thoughts sorted, Iona swiftly cut off the pointless question.

"Impressive that you have the bandwidth to hear such gossip. I should inform the commander that your training volume is insufficient."

"Come on, it's all over the knight order—how could I not know?"

"Fine, if you insist your training is adequate, follow me after breakfast. I'll check personally for once."

"Ahem, enjoy your meal, senior. I've already sparred with Theobald, so I'm out."

The junior knight, who folded immediately, grabbed his barely touched tray and stood up.