Chapter 8
Chapter 8
Translation: godsn
Red strands fluttered down from Mariyu's shoulders with a rustling sound.
"Neril?"
No—what she had mistaken for threads were severed locks of hair.
The glossy, meticulously cared-for crimson tresses that Mariyu treasured like her own life now lay scattered messily across the floor.
"Kyaaak! What do you think you're doing?!"
"Next time, it'll be your neck."
Neril, gripping her sword, issued the low warning.
"Have you lost your mind? Are you out of your—!"
The flat of the blade that had been resting against her suddenly flipped upright.
The chilling touch of metal against her throat. The stinging pain as it bit into flesh.
Neril bowed her head slightly. Whispering directly into Mariyu's ear so only she could hear:
"If you ever lay hands on Her Highness again, I'll break every finger you have."
"Y-you... you..."
Mariyu bit her lip. She'd never imagined that Neril—always as dull as a block of wood—could feel so threatening.
Those inorganic eyes that had clearly killed before sent shivers down her spine.
Trembling, Mariyu staggered backward step by step.
"Neril, you should rest more."
"This much is nothing."
Even wielding her sword left-handed while her bandaged right hand healed, Neril showed no awkwardness.
Medeia's gaze swept over Neril's entire form.
'Strong.'
Through her campaigns, Medeia had seen countless warriors. Though she could never become like them, she'd at least developed an eye for skill.
Neril had no openings. Not even now, with one arm incapacitated.
'If she's like this injured, what must she be like at full strength?'
She seemed capable of matching Kazen's 7-Star Knights blow for blow.
'Pelleus... so this is why you sent her to me, brother.'
The woman who had whispered something in Mariyu's ear returned with unshaken steps.
"What did you say to turn her that pale?"
"I just... encouraged her to work harder."
"Did you now?"
Whatever it was, Mariyu was nothing more than a nuisance to Medeia.
She had no intention of keeping someone who'd once stabbed her in the back close at hand.
"From today, you'll attend me directly. And you—you'll handle my dresses."
"R-really, Your Highness?"
The maids' hushed voices trembled with excitement.
Attending the princess personally was work that came with many perks.
'Who knows why, but with Mariyu out of favor, our chance has finally come!'
The maids couldn't hide their delight at the sudden shift in power.
Bowing deeply until their backs ached, they scurried after Medeia in a line.
Overjoyed, they lavished flattery on Medeia while viciously badmouthing Mariyu's ingratitude.
"But Your Highness, something strange happened at the palace today."
Eventually, one maid hesitantly broached the topic with a troubled expression.
"When we went to get supplies, they gave us moldy, damp firewood even though there were piles of perfectly dry logs right beside them!"
"That's right, Your Highness! And they made us carry it all ourselves too!"
"They even said the regular servants aren't allowed to enter our palace anymore."
Without the servants who normally handled basic maintenance, all those menial tasks would fall to the maids.
"So the Head Maid means to retaliate after yesterday's scolding, it seems."
Medeia nodded as if this was only to be expected.
"Good heavens, then... is it true? That Your Highness actually... whipped Head Maid Cuisine with a switch...?"
Though rumors of yesterday's incident had spread throughout the palace overnight, the princess's own maids hadn't quite believed them.
Yet here was the princess herself confirming it.
Their eyes darted to Neril standing beside Medeia, recalling how the princess had personally supported the injured maid yesterday.
"Then... it was really because of Neril that..."
She's made an enemy of the Head Maid!
While shocked, the maids privately thought the princess terribly foolish. Did she even realize she'd turned someone into an enemy over a mere maid?
Their thoughts were cut short by the princess's next words.
"This is my palace, and you are my people. It wouldn't have mattered if it was Neril or any one of you. No one touches what's mine without my permission."
The maids floundered at Medeia's firm declaration.
"If... if we may ask, Your Highness... what do you intend to do? We were just... curious..."
Watching the maids roll their eyes as they questioned her, Medeia thought wryly:
'Not you—your masters are the curious ones.'
They must have been sent to probe her intentions. Their eyes glittered as they awaited her answer.
"I cannot yield to the Head Maid now."
With a creak, Medeia opened a drawer and pulled out a handful of jewelry.
"Since the Head Maid harbors such malice, you all will have a hard time for a while. I'm sorry."
A pair of sparkling ruby earrings went to the maid who attended to her, and a gold bracelet to the one in charge of her dresses.
To the other girls as well, she gave each a sizable piece from the jewelry box.
The maids' eyes grew round as saucers.
The princess was offering her entire jewelry collection as if to console them.
Even if they knew nothing of the world, they couldn't possibly be ignorant of this.
Or was it that she cherished them so much?
The weighty gems and her affectionate words unsettled them.
"If you don't hold out now, the Head Maid will think she can save or kill you all at her whim."
Unbeknownst to them, the princess's eyes had turned colder than ever.
"Though I may be a powerless mistress, I cannot bear to see you all treated the same."
A pale hand rested atop the maids' hands clutching the jewelry. It was slightly cold, yet small and soft.
"Wait for my time, and I shall ask my uncle to intervene. Endure until then, for this unworthy mistress."
Her calm tone and lowered lashes revealed her devastation.
"No, Your Highness. We understand you're trying to protect us—how could we resent you?"
"No matter how the Head Maid torments us, we'll endure with all our hearts and serve you faithfully. Please trust only us."
The maids tearfully spoke in unison, their newfound loyalty bolstered by the substantial weight of the jewelry in their hands.
"They're all a bunch of bats. You've given them far too much."
After the maids had withdrawn with markedly deeper bows, Neril voiced her displeasure.
This place was teeming with pawns sent to spy on the princess's movements.
Not a single one among them deserved the princess's genuine regard.
"They're all eagerly waiting to carry Your Highness's news outside, yet you reward them instead?"
"You're right. The only one I can trust among my maids is you, Neril."
Even with the jewelry drawer now empty, Medeia remained unperturbed.
"That's precisely why we must dispose of them."
"Pardon?"
At Neril's bewildered expression, Medeia merely curved her lips faintly.
Most of the jewelry she had given the maids were gifts from Duke Claudio and his wife.
The gems from her uncle and aunt were exorbitantly priced, with stones so large they drew gasps of admiration.
Outwardly, it seemed the duke and duchess doted excessively on their niece.
But upon closer inspection, the craftsmanship was crude, and the excessive focus on stone size reeked of nouveau riche ostentation.
To those who knew jewels, they were vulgar pieces that cast doubt on the owner's taste.
'And to think I once proudly wore those gaudy things at formal functions...'
There was a reason nobles and foreign envoys had looked down on Medeia.
"They'll probably try to sell them the moment they leave the palace."
"Oh, that's exactly what I want."
The jewels Medeia had given her maids were nothing short of megaphones to the world.
Someone would surely remember the loud, fussy gifts the Regent and his wife had showered upon Medeia.
Once those jewels flooded the market, people would begin to wonder.
Why had a kingdom's princess been reduced to comforting her maids with her own precious belongings?
How far would her uncle go to keep mouths shut?
"To borrow their hands, this was a bargain."
Expressionless, Medeia patted Neril's shoulder.
"You'll regret this."
The Head Maid wasn't making empty threats.
She sprinkled sand into their food, infused their bedding with insect-attracting scents, and tried every conceivable method to make a young noblewoman's day miserable.
Every visitor to the princess's quarters was also turned away at the Head Maid's command.
Though guests had been scarce before, with even official messengers barred, the princess's residence swiftly became as desolate as an abandoned house.
The Head Maid was determined to isolate Medeia completely within these vast palace walls.
'I've even told Catherine to stay away from the princess for now.'
Let her reflect on the consequences of her reckless defiance.
'Medeia, you've plucked the whiskers of a sleeping lion.'
The Head Maid shuddered with satisfaction at her successful vengeance.
But what she never imagined in her wildest dreams was this:
"Ugh, how long is this going to last? Hey, throw this out. It's from outside."
"Could this be any more outdated? Needles as hairpins? What era is this from?"
Most of her malicious gifts never even reached Medeia.