16. Overlaid (4)

In the past, the dining hall had turned into utter chaos once again when Esil suddenly collapsed. It was just a maid fainting, but the Freyvelrics didn't see it that way. Their gaze toward those beneath them was far different from that of other nobles.

"Esil! Oh my goodness. She hit the floor and got injured..."

You could tell just by looking at Ellensia right now. The moment the maid named Esil collapsed, she was startled and worried. That distance alone proved everything.

Commoners were treated harshly simply because of their status and birth—worked to the bone and slandered. Such people overflowed in the empire. Nobles who flaunted their noble blood and reveled in superiority, insisting that menial tasks were naturally the lot of the lowly? They were a dime a dozen. Servants existed to obey orders, nothing more. Even if one tried to sever that master-servant bond, it was impossible. It was everyday life, the norm in the noble society of the Hasupeln Empire.

But there are nobles who defy that everyday norm. Despite being nobles, they never looked down on or belittled their subordinates. They avoided excessive workloads or cruel treatment. Even when offended by a servant's mistake, they showed mercy and kindness. They drew close, refusing to let the relationship remain merely one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of master and servant divided by status. They were the pride of the house, the very reason a family name held value, the essence of a true lord. That's why the servants took pride in serving there—not just because it was a ducal house.

The Freyvelric name alone was enough to command loyalty.

'This held true even further in the future.'

Even as the ducal house weakened long ago, they didn't leave. Salaries didn't increase with years of service, yet they stayed. Even as fortunes declined sharply. Even amid growing suspicions about the house. Even as influence waned and hegemony slipped away. Even upon hearing of the duke's death.

It was the same. The Freyvelric servants silently served their lord. That was the path the ducal house had walked—and the honor of Freyvelric that I knew.

And so, the gathered gazes weren't fixed solely on...

Esil.

"..."

"..."

Paradoxically, those eyes turned toward one other place. Esil's collapse drew attention, but their pupils quickly rolled my way.

Why would healthy servants suddenly drop like flies? No. That wasn't it. The sisters would maintain their stance regardless.

'The only change is me.'

Yes. The only change was me. Me alone, who had ascended to duke in place of the duchess. Whether suspicion, doubt, or questions arose, I was the sole target. In the ducal house, the unbelievable lord was just one person: me.

'...And ironically, this maid was the one who handled my errands near my room.'

Plenty of motive. Here, I drew the servants' suspicious glares. That was the memory of the past I knew—and the future about to be overwritten.

'But this time, it's different.'

No matter how fated the future, drastically altering the past changed it.

'Yes. Just like this.'

What duke carries a maid on his back? Dignity took a minor hit. But dignity wasn't the issue now. I had to keep pushing with successive bold moves, preventing them from blocking me. Before doubts and distrust set in.

"Th-that said, Your Grace needn't carry her yourself. We can take Esil..."

By the book, that was right. The master doesn't carry the servant; the servant moves on command. But that would mean nothing. I needed to whirlwind faster, leaving no room for mishaps.

The best way? The power of status.

"Do you intend to make me repeat myself?"

"...!"

Using the duke's authority. The weight of words from the family head. I pressed the servant before me fiercely.

'Seems effective enough.'

That single phrase made the servant gulp and step back. The others followed. Everyone froze momentarily. My preparations weren't in vain.

And... something unexpected too.

"Yes, girls. This isn't the time for other thoughts. Right?"

Even Ellensia sided with me, swinging the mood sharply my way. A path cleared.

"I'll open the door for you, Your ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Grace."

The dining hall door opened. Thus, I escaped like a gust, quelling discontent and suspicion.

Escaping the dining hall was good. The fated past was gone.

But I couldn't relax yet. It wasn't over.

I quickly found an empty room. A convenient parlor was nearby. And... close to Widen.

"Fetch Widen."

"Pardon? Doctor Widen?"

"No time. Hurry."

"Y-yes, sir."

How could the family physician be summoned for a mere maid's checkup? The maid hesitated, as expected. Widen examined at most the three sisters, the duchess, or Tia.

But now, with me pushing hard, no time for such thoughts.

'First button's in place.'

Erasing the scenario where I was powerless against collapsed Esil, escaping the hall. Cleared so far.

'Now... the next part.'

I hadn't cleared this tutorial yet. Punishment was required to clear it. Meaning Esil had erred. I had to identify it and enforce fitting discipline.

'...I already know what it is.'

At that moment of chaos, Veronica had demanded first to summon the physician for Esil's exam. But I refused back then.

Because of this, lying on the dining hall floor.

This wasn't just any button. Having seen Tia's maid uniform often, I knew Freyvelric's well. Bluntly, this button's color differed from the ducal maid uniform's. The shape was button-like, but the texture was off. Through the window and my senses, I knew: it was something else masquerading as a button.

The solution? I knew it. Holding the button, I slid my finger to release it. As expected, it unfolded into another form. Tiny letters appeared inside.

'No need to read more.'

The next window followed. With the punishment tutorial and perfect timing, plus the suspicious item. Clearly, Esil deserved punishment. Even in Freyvelric, spies got no mercy. Locked in isolation, starved, interrogated. That was the duchess's rule. So I chose that then.

But pushing the interrogation...

-In the end... this is how it goes. As they say, a long tail gets stepped on.

Esil confessed readily, strangely enough. And then.

-Please accept this.

-What's this?

-...My final gift to you, Your Grace. Please protect the young ladies.

-What?

-I'm sorry. Lady Veronica. I'm sorry, Lady Ellensia. I'm sorry, Lady Lucilla. I feel utterly wretched for what I've done. Never forgive this fool. Never forgive me for betraying Freyvelric...

With baffling words, Esil bit her tongue and chose death there. That was her end... and I gained something useful from her. My choice wasn't wrong; I caught the spy.

But the backlash came as massive waves. Unimaginable chains of consequences.

...So this time, I won't repeat it.

"Your Grace. It's Widen."

"Enter."

"Malnutrition."

Widen finished the exam, releasing Esil's wrist.

"Yes. She hasn't eaten properly lately. Working like that... tsk tsk."

Widen shook his head. Gazes turned to me.

"Malnutri... tion..."

Ellensia glanced my way. Servants followed.

This was it. Shaking their minds with bold actions ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠only delayed. Time would reset them.

I couldn't stop it. Just postpone.

'Resignations will flood in soon.'

But I could insert one variable for survival.

"Ugh..."

"Esil. Awake?"

"Where... Ah, Lady Ellensia? Why am I... Ugh. Sorry. Back to work..."

"Stop. Stay there, Esil."

"Your Grace?"

The tutorial clears with punishment for Esil. But what punishment? My choice.

"Everyone out. I need to speak with Esil about this."

Another item from Esil's pocket. It was the dye meant for me.