Chapter 45

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter Title: Chapter 45

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Erna, who had squeezed her way through to the seat next to Iona's inside spot, greeted her brightly.

The moment Erna sat down, her maid, who had followed right behind, handed her a small embroidered pouch.

Unlike Iona, who had come straight from work to the meeting place, the others all had one or two maids with them, just like Erna.

"At the last ball, you looked so stunningly dressed up, but today you're in uniform again?"

"I have to come right after work to make it on time."

"Oh, right. You must have started work today. So last time too...?"

"Last time too."

Iona responded to Erna's words in an offhand tone.

Last time, she had only stared with curious eyes and hadn't approached at all, but now that they were acquaintances, it seemed her shyness had vanished.

Or perhaps it was because Iona had shown up with Duke Leroy at the last ball.

'Is there nothing better than romance talk for bonding with peers?'

"Actually, I was hoping to see your new dress today too. But Penelope's atelier shut its doors for days, saying they had to finish Lady Iona's gown first—what a scandal among the young ladies."

Or fashion.

Iona hadn't gone to the atelier herself, thinking no one would see, but she hadn't expected the rumors to spread this far.

It didn't seem like Richardt's unusually quick information network had picked up on Leroy's gift offensive.

Iona asked without hiding her embarrassment.

"Did the atelier refuse an order mentioning my name?"

"Pardon? Oh, haha, no way. It just leaked out through the grapevine. How could a juicy story like that stay secret? Especially since it was a gift from the Duke!"

Unlike Iona, who had to focus every nerve on each stitch, Erna was chatting away while swiftly completing her embroidery.

Meanwhile, Iona, distracted by her clumsy sewing, ended up pricking her finger with the needle.

The sharp sting jolted her back to her senses.

Claudia, quick on the uptake, looked up and hurriedly pulled out a handkerchief to wrap Iona's fingertip.

She scolded Erna in a stern voice.

"Miss Erna, that's enough. If you keep distracting Lady Iona, her hands won't hold up."

Only then did Erna notice Iona's injury and cry out in alarm.

"Oh no, look at the blood. Are you okay, Lady Iona? You should've been more careful!"

"I'm fine. It just stings a little."

With that, Iona pushed Claudia's hand away and checked the wound.

Since it had only been pressed briefly, blood seeped out again as soon as the cloth was lifted.

It looked like she couldn't continue embroidering like this. At least not until the wound was properly tended.

Iona rose from her seat and asked,

"Miss Erna, could I borrow your maid for a moment? I came alone today, so I don't have anyone to help."

"Of course! Marie, go help Lady Iona. Do you have a bandage?"

"Yes, miss."

The light brown-haired maid answered politely and followed behind Iona.

Iona excused herself to Claudia and Erna before slipping out.

"Then, if you'll excuse me for a moment."

The guest bathroom was not far from the drawing room.

Iona entered with Erna's maid and locked the door.

The maid seemed slightly puzzled but didn't ask why.

Iona lightly washed her hand at the sink, then sat on the stool nearby.

The maid dried it thoroughly with a towel from inside, then treated the wound simply.

"All done."

Iona examined her bandaged index finger, turning it this way and that.

Truth be told, it wasn't a wound worth this much care. She often got worse scratches swinging a sword.

Iona asked,

"Your name is Marie, right?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"How long have you been working for Miss Erna?"

"About five years."

"And before that?"

"Well, I've moved around to quite a few places."

The maid answered readily, though with a puzzled expression.

Iona's questions continued without pause.

"Is your current job too hard?"

"...Are you offering me a position?"

"Something like that. It might suit you even better."

"What do you...?"

"Miss Viviana Schmidt, do you ever think about returning to your hometown?"

At Iona's question, the maid froze solid.

She backed away blankly, hit the door with her back, and collapsed in a heap as if struck by lightning.

She had dyed her hair. Grown taller with age, her features had changed a bit.

Not reassured, she had even broken her perfectly straight nose to alter her face, then erased from her mind the ladylike gait, etiquette, manners, and cultured knowledge she had learned.

Her name had been one of the first things she discarded.

Yet this woman before her had somehow dredged up those old traces and tracked her down.

"H-how...?"

"Get up. I'm not here to accuse you or deal with you."

Iona extended a hand to Viviana as she spoke.

Instead of taking it, Viviana pulled a pocket knife from her apron.

It was a cheap utility tool, but it was the only thing that could serve as a weapon.

Viviana stammered,

"G-get away. Or I'll stab you."

"You can't fight me with that. Put it down—it's dangerous."

Iona sighed as she spoke.

Ignoring the warning, Viviana stood, gripping the knife tighter.

Iona frowned at her trembling hand, looking troubled.

'Was the approach too sudden?'

Iona had joined this embroidery circle from the start to approach Viviana.

Knowing Viviana worked for Erna, she had seen it as a natural chance to make contact through her.

That Erna had brought Viviana to the meeting for her excellent embroidery skills had been an unexpected bonus.

'Either way, it worked out well.'

Richardt had a watcher planted inside the Dysler Count family.

There was no better chance to make contact than this meeting where Erna always brought only Viviana.

Easing Viviana's guard was something that had to be done eventually.

Unlike Leroy's exonerated family, the Schmidt Count family had been branded traitors for supplying arms to a foreign power.

It would be stranger if Viviana, who faced execution if caught, suddenly trusted and followed her.

'Still, I need to take that knife.'

Iona glanced at the wet towel by the sink.

Grabbing it, she lunged at Viviana and seized the blade.

With her other hand, she struck Viviana's wrist hard, making her drop the knife limply.

Subdued in an instant, Viviana stiffened without even a groan.

Iona could feel the light of hope fading from her eyes.

"...Are you going to kill me?"

"I told you, that's not why I came looking for you."

"You're... the Crown Prince's dog."

Viviana spat the accusation through gritted teeth.

It was natural for her, unjustly stripped of power by the imperial family, to harbor resentment toward Iona.

Iona corrected her misunderstanding without harsh words.

"I'm also the woman about to marry your former fiancé."

"So that's it—you've come to dispose of me."

Viviana muttered in a voice like she was on her last breath.

Iona's words, meant to imply they were on the same side, seemed to land differently.

Depending on how you looked at it, they could be seen as romantic rivals.

Iona had even felt a twinge of jealousy toward her once—when Leroy wept for the dead Viviana.

'Would that man grieve if I died?'

Not as much as for Viviana's loss, perhaps, but would that kind man shed even a few tears for her?

Or would he feel relieved at shedding the burden that had weighed on him all that time?

She couldn't know. What she did know was what she must do to fulfill this shameless hope.

Iona asked softly,

"Do you know that Duke Leroy is looking for you?"