Chapter 39: The Fake Saintess
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 39: The Fake Saintess
The Emperor himself delivered a congratulatory speech to mark the birth of the new Saintess.
Every noble and influential figure in the Empire sent precious gifts to celebrate Annette’s arrival, flooding the estate with invitations just to catch a glimpse of the infant who could barely open her eyes.
Rumors of the Saintess spread beyond Blenheim, the Empire’s border, reaching even the neighboring kingdoms.
However, the Marquis soon sensed that something was wrong.
No matter how hard he looked, his third child—the supposed Saintess—bore no resemblance to him. It was only then that the Marquis became certain of his wife’s infidelity. But his wife had already passed away from childbirth, leaving him with no way to uncover the truth.
To make matters worse, as time passed, Annette failed to manifest any holy power.
She underwent multiple examinations at the Temple, but the priests could only shake their heads in disappointment.
Gradually, the public’s gaze turned to suspicion.
Then, in the year Annette turned ten, a rumor spread that a girl from the slums had performed a miracle.
It was the appearance of Constine, the true Saintess authenticated by the High Priest.
In an instant, Annette became the "Fake Saintess" who had mocked the Empire with a lie. The entire social circles ridiculed and condemned her.
Blinded by shame and rage, the Marquis essentially kept Annette imprisoned within the house from that moment on.
The public believed the Marquis was protecting his daughter out of concern for her fragile heart, but the cold treatment and contempt Annette received within those walls were beyond imagination.
Her older brother, Ferdin, ignored her entirely. Her older sister, Ladriel, survived by distancing herself, making Annette’s supposed misdeeds the subject of gossip at every social gathering she attended.
To Annette, the title of "Fake Saintess" was a brand that could never be erased.
‘The real Annette would have been deeply shaken by those words.’
Whether it was a jab meant to gain the upper hand or just a cruel remark, I couldn't tolerate such a despicable act of poking at someone else's trauma.
You’re blacklisted for life. Good riddance.
Still, my heart fluttered for a different reason than before, knowing I hadn't fallen for such a clumsy provocation.
‘Being the Grand Duchess is the absolute best.’
In all my life, I had never once been the one with the upper hand in a relationship.
To think I could act exactly as I pleased like this.
‘Power really is a terrifying thing. It’s so thrilling I might get addicted.’
My steps were light as I headed back.
Returning to my room, I carefully reviewed the list of candidates for my ladies-in-waiting once more.
I immediately flipped Arbor Meisel’s page to the very back.
I read through the remaining candidates thoroughly, but it was difficult to make a definitive decision based on family background and history alone.
‘Aside from Meisel, I don’t know anyone from the original story.’
To truly evaluate the candidates, I felt I needed to arrange a tea time or some sort of gathering.
But as soon as I made the decision, a sense of helplessness washed over me.
There were likely strict protocols and etiquette involved in hosting a tea party.
‘I’ve never even attended one, let alone hosted one. I have no idea where to start.’
Hoping for a miracle, I pulled out the Etiquette Manual for Newlywed Couples—the same book I’d fallen asleep reading in the Grand Duke’s office a few days ago—and began flipping through the pages.
‘Tea time… here it is!’
「A refined noblewoman must be able to host a tea time with grace. Invited ladies judge the occasion not only by the tea and refreshments but also by the chinaware and table setting… (omitted) …If the hostess fails to attend to her guests skillfully, the ladies will compare the event to other gatherings and…」
“Why is there so much useless talk?”
I skimmed through several more pages, searching for more practical advice.
「Regarding the detailed procedures for hosting a tea time…」
There we go.
Finally finding the relevant section, I read through it sentence by sentence.
「…It is best to seek advice from an experienced noblewoman. If that is not possible, receiving assistance from a seasoned lady’s maid is also a viable option.」
“What! Are you kidding me?”
The most important part was missing.
I wanted to know the specifics—how many days in advance to send invitations, what kind of phrasing to use, whether I should greet guests personally, how many types of refreshments to prepare!
I let out a sigh of frustration.
It would be a disaster if I breached etiquette and ended up being called ignorant or provincial…
Just as I was about to close the book and consider asking Whitley for help, I paused at the very last sentence of the chapter.
「Ultimately, the most important element of a tea time is the hostess’s sincerity; therefore, one need not be overly bound by trivial etiquette.」
‘Actually, now that I think about it, this is strange.’
It’s not like I’m performing a state ceremony. Why should I care about etiquette?
I’m the Grand Duchess, after all.
‘Unless I cause a massive scene, no one is going to scold me for missing a few minor points of protocol.’
Besides, I am the "Fake Saintess," the daughter of Marquis Frais, the capital’s most famous villainess, and the woman who forced a marriage by pressuring Blenheim. When I put it like that, I really sound like the worst.
I don’t exactly have a stellar reputation left to ruin, so I might as well do as I please.
‘If all else fails, I’ll just say it’s the latest trend in the capital.’
I pushed my worries aside and summoned Whitley.
*
It was nearing the end of the lunch hour.
I made my way to the administrative office. Ever since I’d stumbled upon it while exploring the castle, I’d been dropping by at least once every two days whenever I was bored to pester the administrators.
Though they were very wary at first, they were gradually becoming more friendly toward me.
‘Lately, it feels like they’re secretly waiting for the snacks I bring.’
Today, I opened the office door carrying cookies Whitley had prepared. For some reason, the trainee administrators, who were in the middle of a conversation, welcomed me even more enthusiastically than usual.
“How is everyone doing?”
The administrators offered their greetings, their lips twitching as if they had something they wanted to say.
“We were actually just talking about you, Your Highness,” the most gregarious administrator spoke up.
“About me?”
“We all just got back from having the ‘Menu of the Day.’”
The Menu of the Day?
While I was wondering what he meant, the administrator standing next to me offered me a chair.
“At Marie’s Inn, I mean. The proprietress was boasting incessantly that it was a method you suggested, Your Highness.”
Oh! I’d been so busy I’d forgotten.
It seemed Lady Marie had actually started selling a "Menu of the Day" just as I’d suggested. When I showed that I understood, the administrators gathered around with excitement.
“Did you all try the menu?”
Curious about their reaction, I pulled my chair closer.
“It wasn’t just us; I think almost every customer ordered it.”
“Everyone was having a great time choosing their desserts.”
The administrators asked me in detail how I’d come up with such an idea. They seemed genuinely fascinated that such a simple service could make people so happy.
‘I suppose since they’re practical workers, they’re curious about what exactly triggered such a response from the residents.’
I couldn't give them a particularly sophisticated answer, but the administrators seemed more interested in the topic itself than my explanation.
“So, has the inn seen more customers?”
At that, one administrator tilted his head slightly. “It seems to have increased a little.”
“Only a little?”
“The inn’s location isn't exactly ideal. Since they mostly rely on regulars, it will probably take some time for word of mouth to spread.”
True, the inn was located a bit away from the main thoroughfare.
If the location was the problem…
The administrators’ eyes darted around.
Sensing a collaborative problem-solving atmosphere, I thought for a moment before speaking.
“What if she posted the menu in front of the inn?”
“The menu?”
“If she writes down the menus for each day of the week and hangs them outside, wouldn't people be curious?”
“I’m not sure.” One of the administrators shook his head after a moment’s thought. “It might not be very effective.”
“There are quite a few people who can’t read.”
“Ah…!”
That hadn't occurred to me. Seeing my embarrassed reaction, the administrator added more sheepishly, “Of course, most of the original residents of Blenheim can read and write. Mandatory education has been in place since the time of the previous Grand Duke.”
I nodded, remembering Marie’s elegant handwriting as she wrote down the tomato stew recipe.
“However, there has been a large influx of migrants from the borderlands over the last few years, and most of them are illiterate.”
According to the administrator, after they began taking in displaced people who had lost their homes to monsters, the number of people migrating from Rondoris or from across the mountains had increased rapidly.
The problem was that because most of the existing residents were literate, the migrants often faced inconveniences.
“The children can be taught, but many of the parents are preoccupied with immediate survival.”
“Merchants might be different, but among those who come to an inn for a meal, more than half probably can’t read or write.”
‘They must think I’m a noblewoman who knows nothing of the world.’
I was cooling my burning cheeks with the back of my hand when a young administrator who had been listening quietly spoke up.
“We usually use illustrations in such cases…”
“Illustrations?”
“When we issue public safety ordinances—you know, things like not drinking late at night or not fighting. We include illustrations when we post the notices.”
I clapped my hands at his words.
“That’s perfect! Why didn't I think of that?”
In my world, it was standard for menus to have photos or drawings!
‘I just haven't seen any since I got here, so it didn't immediately come to mind.’
If she hung pictures outside the inn, even those who couldn't read would certainly be curious. It would also draw in visitors passing through Gold Lane.
Furthermore, I didn't even have to worry about finding the right person to draw them.
‘I’ve been wanting to give Morina some work anyway. This is a great opportunity.’
Seeing me excitedly brainstorming, the administrators’ expressions brightened.
“Were we of help?”
“Tremendously! I knew the administrators of Blenheim were talented!”
Everyone beamed at the compliment. Since they were all trainees, they were likely only performing tasks handed down from above. Just being able to take the initiative and discuss ideas seemed to thrill them.
I felt the same way.
‘If only Lady Marie agrees…!’
My heart began to race at the thought that I might actually be able to see my idea come to life.
Feeling a rare sense of accomplishment, I began to map out the next steps in my head.
*
“Agh! This is so frustrating!”
Meisel, the precious only daughter of the Count of Arbor, threw down her pen.
「I joyfully accept Her Highness the Grand Duchess’s kind invitation…」
In the lavishly decorated parlor of the Count’s daughter.
Marzella, the head maid of the Grand Ducal Household, stood before the furious Meisel with a stony expression.