Curtis Made the Introduction
It was Curtis who introduced her.
“My apologies. She is Theodora de Tornier of the Royal Army 8th Regiment. At present, she is assigned to guard Isabelle la Glintland, Duchess of Glintland.”
“…”
“She is also the very talent whom His Majesty personally entrusted with the Duchess of Glintland’s protection.”
The king’s eyes bulged.
“Grand Duke Berk!”
But Curtis did not falter.
“Second Lieutenant Tornier. Report.”
“…”
Behind her spectacles, Theodora’s eyes slid briefly to the side. She seemed to be asking whether she was truly allowed to say this now.
The king was openly fidgeting now, looking back and forth between Isabelle la Glintland and Theodora. Clearly, he was anxious because he had no idea what might come out of Theodora’s mouth.
“As Grand Duke Berk has stated, I am responsible for the Duchess of Glintland’s protection.”
“…”
The king glared at Theodora. Theodora accepted that look, then passed it neatly on to Curtis.
At the same time, her eyes said, Oh, for fuck’s sake. Are you enjoying this?
Curtis smiled faintly.
That was his answer.
Theodora replied as though with a sigh.
“The diplomatic party that visited Ibanes from Glintland numbers forty-six in total, including their servants. However, one maid who attended the duchess disappeared two weeks ago.”
“This is slander!” Isabelle la Glintland cut in. “Not a single member of Glintland’s delegation has gone missing!”
“The head count remains the same, yes.”
Theodora summarized swiftly.
“But both I and the guards confirmed that the maid assigned to the Duchess of Glintland’s private chambers was replaced. The maid who served there before the replacement has vanished, and she has been identified as a maid who worked in the Glintland Royal Palace laundry before joining the diplomatic mission.”
“They are the same person!”
“There, you hear her! Second Lieutenant Tornier! Do not insult a diplomatic envoy with baseless conjecture!”
The one who answered the king was, once again, Curtis.
“Your Majesty. I trust this foolish younger brother need not remind you that this diplomatic envoy may currently be insulting the Grand Duchess, a royal of our own kingdom.”
The king’s face, which had been scarlet until a moment ago, now turned deathly white.
His eyes darted about in panic before fixing on Isabelle la Glintland.
“Duchess of Glintland. What is the meaning of this?”
With that single sentence, it became clear.
Everyone present understood instinctively that the king had ridden along with Isabelle Glintland’s accusations without even knowing how far she had meddled.
How pathetic.
Yet that pathetic man was the king of Ibanes.
Rank was an absolute wall; if an incompetent sat above you, even a sage had to bow his head.
For that reason, no one dared open their mouth carelessly or exchange glances.
They could only lament inwardly.
Isabelle la Glintland, however, was entirely unlike the king.
Somewhere along the way, she had abruptly regained her composure. With a smile, she countered.
“First, allow me to offer my apologies to His Majesty the King of Ibanes. Indeed, after hearing this, I can see that it may have been another person. But as I may not look it, I am a duchess. I do not remember the personal histories and faces of every maid in my service.”
“…”
“If a maid was changed, then perhaps someone concerned for my comfort hired a new one. And from what I hear, if she was a maid from the laundry, might she not have wished to begin a new life here in prosperous Ibanes?”
Had she oiled her tongue?
Theodora knew what had happened to that maid, too.
But if she brought that up now, the only person who would suffer for it would be the poor maid. Most crucially, the situation did not yet allow them to do anything to the Duchess of Glintland.
“Um, forgive me. Might I be permitted to speak in this place?”
Someone unexpectedly stepped forward just as the king and Curtis were glaring at each other.
The person most startled upon recognizing who it was was the Marquise of Flandre.
The woman who walked out hesitantly was Camille Basilure.
“And who are you now?”
At the king’s irritable question, the timid-looking middle-aged woman hunched her shoulders and spoke carefully.
“I am the Marquise of Flandre’s jeweler, and the second daughter of the Basilure family.”
“…Speak.”
Having already been blindsided once by Agathe, the king answered slowly and with clear distaste.
Camille was so small that one sharp glance from the king seemed enough to make her shrivel, but, surprisingly, she spoke in a clear, ringing voice.
“Are you all aware that beryl—that is, emerald—is a rather fragile gemstone?”
Everyone’s eyes blinked with curiosity.
Camille looked toward the Marquise of Flandre, and only then did the marquise realize she had been clutching the green beryl vase all this time.
Watching the marquise set it down carefully, Camille gave Chloe a light bow and continued.
“Your Highness. When you threw and broke the vase earlier, you did so to confirm that it was glass, correct?”
“…Yes, I did.”
Chloe answered, bewildered.
Camille smiled gently.
“But beryl can break even more easily than glass.”
What is she talking about? Isn’t that a gemstone?
Before Chloe could ask, Camille approached and extended a hand.
“Your Grace. Might I borrow the necklace you are wearing for a moment?”
When Chloe gave permission, Camille undid her necklace with a gentle touch and lifted it.
The pink morganite necklace, framed by diamonds, shone beautifully beneath the ballroom lights.
“This is called morganite, but in truth, it has the same composition as beryl. Only the color differs. It is also called pink emerald.”
Oh. Are we suddenly getting a lecture on gemstones?
The moment Chloe thought that, Camille hurled the morganite in her hand hard against the floor.
Crash!
“Ah!”
Oh my!
Good heavens!
Amid the short cries of shock, one scream in particular sounded familiar.
Like everyone else—and in truth, far more horrified on the inside—Chloe realized the scream belonged to Lady Basilure and bit her lip to hold back a laugh that nearly burst out of her.
It was as if Lady Basilure had screamed in her place, Do you know how much that cost?
Tiny pink sparkles scattered across the floor.
They looked like stars.
And there, amid them, Camille, who had shattered a necklace worth millions of sing with her own hand, turned back with a serene smile.
Only the guests murmured in stunned agitation.
“If anyone here wearing an emerald necklace would kindly lend it to me, I can show you the same sight. Of course, no one will.”
“What are you trying to say? Do you intend to start a fashion here in Ibaneres of breaking things in front of the king?”
When the king thundered, Camille bowed respectfully.
“Presumptuous as it may be, I merely wished to say that Her Grace the Grand Duchess had no understanding whatsoever of the green beryl vase’s value.”
Oh, my head. Oh dear, how are we supposed to repay that… Ah! Madam, are you all right?
From far away came the sound of someone being carried off.
That, too, must have been Lady Basilure.
But Camille continued speaking with perfect innocence, as though she had heard nothing at all.
“People who have never handled precious objects often do not understand their value. At the very least, if Her Grace had sold that green beryl vase and intended to disguise that fact, she would have pretended to cherish it. She would have had to pretend that the treasure was still in her possession.”
Camille had been watching this situation from the start, and she was one of those who had found it absurd.
Making a vase out of green beryl was proof that its owner was extraordinarily wealthy.
An emerald vase.
It meant the owner could watch emeralds of that size shatter to pieces and not care.
From the beginning, it had not been made for holding flowers. Nor should it have been.
“When I heard the butler say earlier that water had been poured into it and it had been used as a vase, I nearly fainted. If that is a genuine green beryl vase, and if he is truly a butler serving an esteemed master, then for an object that precious, he should have advised that it be appreciated only by sight.”
Now Philippe Deltang went pale as death.
A bastard who calls himself the butler of the Grand Ducal residence doesn’t even know how to handle an emerald vase?
Camille’s words implied, That cannot be. Unless you are spectacularly ignorant, you are at least an accomplice.
And by the same token, they meant that, at least regarding this matter, the Grand Duchess could not possibly have known anything.
“Do you not consider the possibility that someone who already knew it was fake behaved that way to feign ignorance of a precious object?”
The one who cut in as though she had been waiting was Isabelle la Glintland.
Camille’s gently smiling face turned extraordinarily stern when she looked toward Isabelle.
“Allow me to say it once more. I am Basilure, the jeweler who has attended to Her Grace the Marquise of Flandre’s jewels since she was a girl. I know the artisans of Papetin Street better than anyone.”
“…”
“There is no glassworker in Ibaneres skilled enough to make a vase of that caliber within a week without ever having seen it.”
The hall had gone so quiet one could have heard a pin drop.
In the end, it was the Marquise of Flandre who settled the matter.
“Your Majesty. It seems this banquet can no longer be enjoyed. Please order it closed.”
The king, who had been fretting over the unexpected turn of events, seized on that with a cry.
“Adjourned! Everyone, leave at once!”
But Curtis Shan Berk did not let the king turn this gathering into something that had never happened.
He called out in a loud voice.
“Your Majesty. As Brigadier General of the Ivanes Royal Guard, I request permission to detain the Duchess of Glintland on a murder charge.”
Murder?
Everyone present looked at Curtis in alarm.
Even the king, who had been about to leave.
Curtis gave a slight shrug.
“There is something Second Lieutenant Tornier did not have the chance to report earlier. The maid who came from Glintland and disappeared in Ibaneres was found dead not long ago on the Ivaineres riverbank.”
“What….”
Isabelle took one step back, but Theodora caught her by the arm.
Curtis continued, his face cold.
“A murder of a diplomatic envoy has occurred in Ibaneres. The Royal Guard is arresting the Duchess of Glintland as a person of interest and suspect.”
“It wasn’t me! Do you have proof?”
The only thing that returned to Isabelle as she shouted was a chilly gaze.
“The key witness is Glintland’s foreign ambassador, Sir Oslo.”
Only then did everyone’s eyes turn to Glintland’s foreign ambassador, who had retreated with a crumpled expression in front of them all and stood in a corner all this time.
Sir Oslo was sweating profusely, yet he looked at Isabelle la Glintland with an expression that seemed somewhat relieved.
The king groaned.
“Damn it.”
Now, everyone present had no doubt that the king had stood at the vanguard of a schemer from Glintland in order to insult the Grand Duchess.
The king shouted.
“Do as you please!”
Isabelle la Glintland stood there blankly, then belatedly flinched and tried to pull away.
But it was already too late.
With a serene expression, Curtis Shan Berk extended a hand to the detained Isabelle la Glintland.
“Shall we?”
It was a gesture so elegant that anyone unaware of the situation might have thought he was asking her to dance.
And that made it all the more insulting.