Chapter 33
Chapter 33
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: The Spy Unmasked
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Stipe was in such a hurry that he cut the room's owner off mid-sentence.
"It's me. Open the door."
"What's the matter?"
"Something urgent. I need you to head to the duke's estate. Open up first."
What an idiot, such a slowpoke.
Stipe inwardly hurled every curse he could think of at the kitchen servant, who was dawdling even in a situation like this. Finally, the door slowly creaked open before his eyes.
Stipe had already shoved his foot inside before it was fully open. He froze solid upon belatedly taking in the scene within.
The first thing that caught his eye was the kitchen servant, bound and kneeling on the floor.
Standing behind him, gripping the rope, was Peter.
The man, who always seemed like a spineless pushover, wore a demonic scowl Stipe had never seen before.
"Why are you here...!"
Spotting someone who had no business being there, Stipe instinctively recoiled.
Stipe was a veteran knight hardened by years on the battlefield.
All his senses screamed danger. True to his instincts, he turned to flee.
At that moment, the doors around him—which had been closed—snapped open in perfect unison.
Knights emerged, sharp swords in hand, all blades pointed straight at Stipe.
Cold sweat trickled down Stipe's back as his escape route was cut off.
"Shall we start by hearing why you're here, Knight?"
With that low voice, the knights parted to either side.
Leopoldt strode forward leisurely through the gap.
Stipe, scanning desperately for any way out, locked eyes with him and felt utter despair crash over him.
Having monitored Leopoldt by his side for so long, Stipe knew him better than anyone.
His enemies died the moment they turned their backs to him. There wasn't a single exception.
His fingertips began to tremble.
"I-I..."
Leopoldt gave Stipe, who couldn't finish his sentence, a chilling stare before arrogantly nodding toward the surrounding knights.
At the command, three knights rushed him and bound him tightly with rope.
"Where to?"
"Take him to the interrogation room."
Imagining that filthy, dark space where war prisoners had been held until just before, Stipe struggled belatedly.
But the grip of his former fellow knights was unyieldingly firm.
The interrogation room—no, anything but that.
The Northern Army's interrogations were infamous for their brutality.
And from knights fresh from the war, their blood still hot...
Twisting his body to delay even a moment being dragged there, Stipe cried out in desperation.
"How long? How long have you known?!"
Stipe had played the spy for a long time.
Ever since he'd entered Leopoldt's service as a scion of an old baronial house after falling from the duke's good graces.
He'd thought he'd never been found out.
Leopoldt had trusted him enough to station him by his wife's side in battle.
So he'd let his guard down.
Enough to act without thinking just because Peter was missing.
He'd never even imagined Leopoldt knew his true colors.
'My acting was perfect!'
Leopoldt sneered at the flailing Stipe.
"My daughter told me."
Leopoldt, clutching his daughter's tiny hand as she gazed up at him with eyes just like Lucy's...
'The Haini in the kitchen is weird. He's eavesdropping with the nanny, and the prince guy in our house, that's the Knight Stipe you talked about...'
Mariella was smart, but she was only three years old.
Not everything a child said could be taken at face value.
No matter how suspicious the report about certain people.
Stipe had served loyally by Leopoldt's side for ages.
He staked his life on earning merits, but that hardly made it a flaw.
If someone else had accused him and the kitchen servant of being spies, Leopoldt wouldn't have believed it.
'Send knights to watch Haini secretly. Bad person.'
But this was the first time the girl, who always feared Leopoldt and rarely approached him, had shared her own thoughts—and added a request.
'Please? Yeah?'
He couldn't refuse his daughter's first request.
Stipe, cut off from both sides, barely grasped half of what Leopoldt spat out.
What could a three-year-old have done?
But Stipe was Leopoldt's enemy now. No need to explain everything to an enemy.
Leopoldt looked down at the man's face and added one final remark.
"I couldn't refuse my daughter's request."
Stipe stared blankly at Leopoldt's oddly proud expression before being hauled off to the interrogation room.
After my exposure to the demon poison, I was bedridden for a full two days.
It wasn't severe—just a slight fever and some coughing.
That was easily passed off as a cold from getting caught in the rain.
While I lay there amid the worried fussing, stuffing myself with delicious food, only good news reached my ears.
"—So Knight Stipe, no, that bastard Stipe is locked in the interrogation room. Paul, the kitchen servant, too."
Betty, chattering excitedly at the top of her voice, blew on a thin soup reeking of savory corn and butter before spooning it into my mouth. Then she continued.
"Stipe denied everything to the end, but when they searched him, they found a letter in his pocket trying to smuggle out estate secrets."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Turns out he wrote it on the blank backs of Sir Peter's daily logs that he tears up every day. The evidence fits perfectly."
"No denying it now."
"Exactly! That damn bastard!"
Betty's excitement turned her mouth foul, so Laura poked her side to signal caution.
Not like I minded, right in front of me and all.
If Betty and Laura weren't there, I'd be pumping my fist in the air myself, I was so thrilled.
'Serves you right, you scum!'
Sticking right by Dad like that, playing spy.
Darkest right under the lamp, huh? Spill every crime, real or imagined, under interrogation!
Dad must feel a bit miffed losing a trusted subordinate after all this time...
From what I'd heard, Stipe was the knight who'd stuck by him until the end when Mom died in battle.
So even if there were suspicions or dislikes, Dad had probably overlooked them all along.
'But no more.'
Dad was tough; no schemes from him would cause big trouble.
But little me and Dietrich were different.
That's probably why Dad dragged Stipe straight to the interrogation room.
All the ones worth sweeping out were gone now.
I hoped our home would be a bit more peaceful from here on.
I wanted to nag Dad into letting me train in swordsmanship with Dietrich.
"Miss, I have something to ask you."
What now?
I scooted back a little at the sight of Laura and Betty surrounding me with sly grins.
"I need to get gifts for people around me, so what do three-year-olds—no, four-year-olds these days really want?"
"...Dunno?"
"Come on, tell us. Anything you really want?"
Bombarded by their questions, I glanced at the calendar on the desk.
Already that time?
There was a date the maids had highlighted with red crayon for emphasis.
'My birthday.'
After this one, I'd be four.
"What do four-year-olds like?"
Nothing in particular. I had pretty much everything already.
'But if I don't answer, Betty and Laura won't back off, will they?'
After some thought, I mentioned the thing I'd been mulling over most lately.
"Gotta grow tall... Milk or somethin'?"
Don't laugh like that.
I was growing decently hard, but Dietrich shot up like bamboo shoots, so I had my worries.
"Oh, of course, we're preparing for some four-year-old!"
"Right! Don't get the wrong idea, absolutely!"
Am I an idiot baby?
I narrowed my eyes at them.
They were more excited than me, the birthday girl, squealing away.
"And this time, Father's back too!"
"Yeah! He'll definitely celebrate big!"
Oh right, Dad was home.
My first birthday with him.
Excitement bubbled up unbidden.
To tamp it down, I pressed my hand to my chest.