Chapter 84
Chapter 84
Translation: godsn
"It was sent by the younger sister of the maid who died in place of Lady Virna last time. She's now changed her identity and is working as a maid in Duke Claudio's household."
The younger sister was prepared to do anything to avenge her unjustly killed sister.
Holding her breath, she bided her time for an opportunity—and finally, last night, she seized Catherine's secret.
"Robert Laju......."
Medeia's pale fingers tapped lightly on the table.
"By any chance, do you know him?"
"Of course I do."
He was my ally who helped make Iason Emperor.
This Count of the Empire, born in Valdina, had also been a powerful patron of Uncle Claudio's household in my past life.
He provided both financial and personal support to ensure Uncle's family could settle smoothly in Kazen, even spending his own money to introduce Virna into imperial high society.
He spared no expense in helping Virna mingle with imperial family members, including the Empress Dowager and the Imperial Consorts.
Come to think of it, his affection and efforts toward Virna had been somewhat excessive.
'If it wasn't for his niece but his own daughter, it would make sense.'
"Robert Laju."
Virna's middle name was Robin—a shortened form of Robert.
"Virna Claudio......."
The princess, lost in thought for a moment, suddenly let out a hollow laugh.
"So my aunt truly is a romantic. To think she'd go so far as to leave her lover's name in her child's."
No wonder Virna's temperament bore no resemblance to her supposed father, the Regent, or her brother.
Her simple, passionate nature had entirely different roots.
Medeia felt laughter bubbling up inside her.
'Virna, you were so jealous of me, your cousin. Under the preteness of sharing the same blood, you tried to take everything from me.'
My position. My child. And in the end, even my husband.
Did Virna know? The truth was, even the title of Duke Claudio's daughter was too good for her.
"If this truth comes to light, not only will Lady Claudio fall from grace, but it'll also become an unprecedented scandal for the Regent."
Neril's expression brightened.
"No. I won't use it now. Even without this secret, the Regent is already doomed to fall."
Medeia already held their lives in her hands with the signature document.
'I can't let you off so easily for selling my daughter to her death. Just wait, Virna.'
Medeia's eyes gleamed a piercing blue. A flicker of exhilaration flashed through them.
Standing against the darkness with a serene smile, the princess exuded a chilling aura.
"Everything will unfold at my chosen time and place."
After the Regent, it'll be your turn.
The Princess's Palace.
"Your Highness, Grand Duke Castulo has left another gift and letter. And this bouquet was sent by General Jared."
Medeia's footsteps paused briefly. She stared coldly at the pile of gifts placed before the fireplace.
"Throw them away."
"All of them?"
Instead of answering, Medeia picked up one of his letters from the table and flung it straight into the fireplace.
Saya nodded without hesitation.
"Yes, Your Highness. Then, please rest well."
Once even Saya had left and the bedroom was empty, Medeia's gaze turned toward the roaring fireplace.
The letter had long since crumbled into a handful of ashes.
As she stared fixedly at the blazing flames, Medeia sensed a presence and lifted her head.
On the windowsill of her bedroom sat a man wearing a white half-mask. Bathed in moonlight, the mask gleamed elegantly.
Medeia froze for a moment.
"Acares."
"Pleasant evening, Princess."
A leisurely greeting returned.
Behind his shoulders, the silver silk curtains swayed gently in the night breeze, and the star-studded black sky served as his backdrop.
The sight was so natural, it could have been a scene carefully painted by an artist onto a canvas.
Medeia let out a hollow laugh at the man who had blended seamlessly into the princess's palace without a trace of dissonance, then extended her hand.
"If you've lost your way in the dark of night, I'll show you the path."
She picked up the crossbow placed nearby, aimed it at him, and—
A light laugh came from behind the white half-mask. Medeia nearly mistook it for genuine amusement.
"Thanks for the invitation."
As if granted permission to enter by Medeia herself, he leapt over the windowsill with the fluid grace of a panther and perched there casually.
At the very least, the fact that he didn't immediately step inside and instead settled on the sill suggested some semblance of propriety on his part.
Should I be grateful he's observing even the barest minimum of courtesy?
Yet here he was, having brazenly infiltrated the royal palace, daring to speak of an "invitation" while seating himself before her.
"If I pull this cord right now, do you think you'll leave here unharmed?"
The moment she tugged the bell cord in her bedchamber, every guard in the princess's quarters would converge upon him.
In response, an arrogant voice, utterly devoid of doubt, countered:
"Princess, do you really believe that? That you could keep me trapped here?"
"......"
Unfortunately, it was the truth. As things stood, there wasn't a single warrior in Valdina's royal palace capable of standing against this insolent man.
Neril wouldn't stand a chance either. Both of them knew it.
Cesare, not expecting an answer, continued with a sly smirk.
"I brought a gift. Something those trash couldn't even compare to. So, keep it safe for a long time."
"Just how long have you been watching me?"
Medeia's tone was indifferent as she asked.
It seemed he had witnessed her burning Iason's letter.
"If you had a means of correspondence, a reply would've sufficed. You're lacking in both humility and memory, it seems."
As Medeia let out a scoff, something small flew toward her.
It was a bundle wrapped in cloth, meticulously tied with string—the customary format for messages sent by carrier pigeon.
"......"
When her pale fingers tugged at the string, the cloth unfurled, revealing a scrap of orange fabric inside.
"The supply convoy departing from Osof no longer has its provisions. I considered bringing the commander's head as proof, but—"
His golden eyes behind the white half-mask swept across the pristine walls and the beautifully patterned carpet of her bedchamber.
"—I feared it might startle such refined company."
"......"
Medeia stared down at the scrap of fabric.
Embroidered on the half-burnt orange cloth was the weasel sigil—the symbol of the Lasai tribe.
She swallowed back a breath that threatened to escape unbidden.
He actually pulled it off in just ten days?
This wasn't something achievable with mere skilled mercenaries and weapons.
The Lasai were the most vicious and aggressive among the nomadic tribes. Even Pelleus struggled every time he faced them in battle.
Unbelievable speed. Flawless execution of the request.
Only now did Medeia truly grasp the extent of Facade's renown, spread far and wide across the continent.
"Impressive."
"I told you. Facade is different."
Cesare spoke with arrogant confidence, as if stating the obvious.
"Fine, I'll give you that. But a reply would've sufficed."
Her words, elegantly phrased, carried the implication: What was the point of showing your face?
Cesare chuckled softly at her remark.
"I heard Her Highness plans to make a rather modest appearance at the upcoming banquet."
In the coming week, an official banquet would be held to welcome the diplomatic mission from Kazen.
"It seems I'll have to inform Pinatelli that there are still ears to be pruned."
Matters concerning women's adornments were private affairs. Medeia was pointing out that Facade had planted informants even within the royal palace.
"I was just curious why you refused."
Cesare stroked his chin.
His words reminded her of the sapphire necklace—one of the gifts she had sent back to Facade.
"Was Alphensia's craftsmanship not up to par? Or did the color displease you?"
Alphensia was a secluded dwarf village at the edge of the continent. Their artisans were peerless in their craft.
But they were notoriously reclusive, refusing commissions—so much so that even the imperial family of Kazen struggled to obtain Alphensian jewels.
"I did think emerald would suit you better."
A languid voice drifted toward Medeia's green eyes.