Chapter 49
Chapter 49
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 48
Chapter Title: Servant Cedric (14) - The Eldest's Dagger
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"...It's as dazzlingly ostentatious as ever."
The Redbel Marquis's mansion.
Gazing at what could be called the main residence of the Redbel family, Claudia furrowed her brow.
Though it was the place where she had lived for over a decade before her appointment as lord of the Etched domain, she always felt deeply uncomfortable visiting it.
It wasn't because of painful memories.
Rather, it was because there were so many happy ones.
Back when her mother was still alive.
Memories of the time when the Redbel Marquis acted like a 'good father'—and she truly believed it was sincere—made her feel wretched when compared to her present self.
She stood there for a while, just glaring at it, unable to easily step inside the mansion.
"It's quite a spacious estate. It must be well worth managing."
A light remark tossed out casually, impossible to tell if sincere or joking.
The moment she heard Cedric's voice, Claudia's legs—which had felt glued to the ground—suddenly felt light as air.
She curled up the corner of her mouth and shot back.
"You're the only servant arrogant enough to rate the mighty Redbel estate as 'quite' something. In terms of grounds alone, it rivals the royal palace."
"As my lady will one day set her sights on places even loftier and grander, shouldn't I, as her servant, adopt the same mindset?"
"You sure can talk. You sure can."
Though she grumbled lightly, Claudia's mood wasn't bad at all.
That's right.
The Claudia of the past and the Claudia of now were different.
The current Claudia wasn't some sulking child who had learned her father's love was fake. She was visiting as a lord with proven achievements and renown.
With her chest puffed out and chin held high, she strode boldly into the mansion.
Inside the mansion, prior visitors had arrived before her. Spotting them, Claudia greeted with a wicked smile.
"Long time no see. Mira, Erwin."
The sturdy, muscular young man's face—outwardly respectable—twisted in displeasure.
The noble lady wrapped in a dress of clearly exceptional fabric reacted the same way.
"I'm your brother. How many times have I told you to mind your manners, Claudia?"
"Yeah. Do you have to act like you never got any family upbringing and tarnish the family name?"
"Manners? Tarnish the family name?"
Ignoring their rebukes, Claudia just snorted.
As if she'd heard something utterly ridiculous.
"Want me to make it so the whole kingdom knows exactly who truly lacks manners and tarnishes the family name?"
At Claudia's loaded words, their eyes flickered for a brief moment.
However, they were no strangers to noble society, where politics was like breathing.
The third daughter, Mira, replied with a composed face.
"No idea what you're talking about. Wasn't it you who damaged the Redbel name the most?"
With her tone and expression conveying genuine bafflement, few would suspect her of sending assassins after her half-sister.
The second son, Erwin, chimed in agreement with his sister's attitude.
"I heard you'd been doing decently as a lord lately, so I had some expectations. But your wild streak hasn't changed a bit. Have some shame."
Their brazen attitudes were thick enough to lay iron plates over their faces, but they had their own calculations.
'It's obvious bluffing. No way she had the spare capacity to capture those assassins alive after we sent such elite forces.'
'Everyone we deployed has a tight lip. No way they'd testify easily. Even if they did, admitting it here would be the end. We have to deny it flat-out!'
Their judgment wasn't entirely wrong.
In noble society, truth wasn't all that important, and right and wrong flipped constantly.
Of course, if Claudia truly had witnesses and wielded them as a weapon, the siblings would suffer significant losses—but conversely, Claudia would need to show them some consideration to gain anything in return.
However, there was one thing.
If they were mistaken about anything, it was that Claudia wasn't some overly 'political' noble lady to begin with.
"Oh, is that so?"
Glare at their shamelessness with clear displeasure, then snap open her fan with a flick, covering her mouth as she commanded.
"You lot. Bring those things we loaded on the carriage here."
"Understood."
At Claudia's order, several of her accompanying servants turned and hurried out the door.
The siblings started puzzled at first, unclear on her intent, but their eyes bulged in shock when they saw what the servants hauled in over their shoulders.
Men bound tight like inchworms, slumped limply with no strength left to resist.
They glanced around anxiously before locking eyes with the siblings and promptly bowing their heads.
The siblings—who never imagined the assassins would be dragged straight to the main house—froze solid. Toward them, Claudia declared.
"I figured these guys might have some connection to you two, so I wanted to chat. But if you don't know anything, oh well. Guess I'll have to use them elsewhere."
"E-elsewhere?"
"I'll take them to Father. Daring to target Redbel blood, we need to investigate their backers thoroughly and rip it all out. Wouldn't it be better handled by someone experienced like him rather than me? Right?"
The siblings were speechless, mouths clamped shut.
They couldn't let those men fall into the marquis's hands.
He'd pry their mouths open for sure, exposing their plot entirely.
But they couldn't protect them either.
Stepping in to claim them would be as good as confessing guilt.
'Th,this crazy bitch...!'
'She's openly blackmailing us!?'
No refined noble backroom dealings here.
It was straight-up bullying, like "Screw you, deal with it." The two, who prided themselves on worldly experience, were utterly thrown.
Who would ever strong-arm the children of the mighty Redbel family like this?
"No more words from you, so I'll be off. See you later. If there's business."
"W-wait! Claudia!"
"Y-yeah! There's a misunderstanding! Let's talk!"
In the end, they swallowed their pride and clung to Claudia.
Choosing the lesser evil over the worst.
And that scene was vividly etched in the eyes and ears of the family retainers.
'...Practically a surrender. It won't spread as outright rumor, but with so many eyes watching, everyone in the family who matters will know.'
'Whoa, rough as hell, but in a way, an utterly effective negotiation tactic. A tyrant's temperament can be a weapon if used right.'
Retainers of the Redbel family—one of the kingdom's true powers—had no small political influence or insight themselves.
They knew the marquis wouldn't tolerate his hands and feet moving independently, so they refrained from meddling in succession struggles or speaking out—but they couldn't bind their thoughts.
In their judgment, at this moment, Claudia had effectively surpassed the second son and third daughter in family hierarchy.
Payback for trying to gloss over their failed assassination.
"Haha, I wondered what the commotion was. Looks like everyone's gathered here."
Of course, that didn't mean Claudia had claimed the top spot in the family.
Setting aside the marquis—treated as a non-factor—there was a solid number two whom even the second son and third daughter couldn't dismiss lightly.
The refined, dignified young nobleman: Armin Redbel.
Approaching them with a completely oblivious air, as if missing the siblings' tense atmosphere entirely, he greeted them innocently.
Erwin and Mira's darkened faces lit up faintly, while Claudia openly scowled.
"Long time no see, little sis. I've heard reports often, but nothing beats hearing it from you directly. How have you been?"
"...So-so."
"Good to hear, good indeed. Puts my big brother's worries much at ease."
Despite her curt reply, Armin kept his smile unwavering.
A benevolent gaze, like looking at an immature child.
The retainers saw in him a magnanimous breadth, but Claudia saw different.
'What a sly fox.'
Unlike the second or third, the eldest son Armin had never shown her direct malice or bullied her.
On the contrary, he'd mediated several times when their antics got out of hand.
Yet Claudia didn't trust Armin.
It was less reason and more instinctual wariness.
Looking at him reminded her of the Redbel Marquis—specifically, the mask he wore back when her mother was alive.
Brushing off her sharp hostility like water off a duck's back, Armin turned to the bound assassins.
"Did you bring those?"
"Yeah."
"I don't know the details, but dragging such folk into the family head's residence without permission seems unwise. Better send them outside for now and bring them back with his approval."
"What if they vanish or get silenced while parked outside?"
"This is Redbel land. Anyone committing such villainy here would be defying the family head—and they'd pay dearly."
Words that sounded like plain propriety or subtle implication.
The second son and third daughter seemed to take it the latter way, their eyes trembling.
Confirming their reaction, Claudia nodded.
With this said in public, they wouldn't dare try silencing now. If they did, it'd give her even better leverage.
"Take them back out."
Issuing the order to her servants, Claudia met Cedric's eyes.
Seeing him obey smoothly without issue, she felt reassured this choice was right.
Noting the exchange briefly, Armin said with his usual affable smile.
"Then let's head to the dining hall. Father said he'll join late due to business, so we can start without him."
The cuisine at the Redbel Marquis's mansion was exceptionally fine.
The marquis, often called a merchant noble for his calculating nature, wasn't some miser fixated solely on hoarding wealth.
Fine bedding, fine clothes, fine food.
He spared no expense on daily comforts or pleasures, as evidenced by the table laden with diverse dishes from myriad ingredients.
Yet Claudia found none of it tasty.
'Not even as good as what Cedric made. Or the head chef's, for that matter.'
Objectively, the main house should excel in ingredient quality and chef skill.
But no matter how exquisite the gourmet fare, sharing a table—clinking knives and forks—with people she couldn't stand soured the appetite inevitably.
"Erwin. Heard you got your second child. How's your wife's health?"
"Yes, brother. Thanks to the herbs you sent last time. She asked me to pass on her thanks."
"Haha, no need for such gratitude over that. Mira, rubbing elbows with Countess Rudriol a lot lately?"
"Yes, big brother. Learning all sorts as a socialite junior."
"She was once queen of Birka high society. Mind your manners around her. Let me know if you need anything."
The large table was filled with faint clinks of cutlery and familial chatter.
Slicing into chicken steak fed rare grains hard for common folk to afford, Claudia grew newly exasperated at how long she'd have to play this farce.
The marquis himself probably wouldn't even show. Maybe just pretend to eat and bail.
As she seriously pondered acting on the thought.
Perfectly naturally, in a serene tone like spotting a funny cloud on a stroll, Armin spoke.
"Oh right, Claudia. The royals want to arrange a match for you. What do you think?"
"....... ...What?"
The remark was so out of left field, Claudia's brain took time processing it.
To her dumbfounded expression, Armin continued.
"You know I interact often with the Second Prince. He sighed deeply upon hearing you're not even engaged, let alone married. Said he's been so focused on ruling the kingdom he's neglected his family—your affairs."
Family? Who?
Those bastards who, when Mother married into this damn house, sent her off with barely a proper dowry—just her body and a few servants—then wiped their mouths clean?
Unlike Claudia's face growing icily rigid, Armin's remained warmly serene.
"Noble marriages are decided by family elders, traditionally. Father welcomed the royal initiative as a blessing too. The Second Prince was overflowing with zeal, vowing to find you the finest groom. Something to look forward to."
That was the end of Claudia's patience.
Crash! Clang!
"Kyaa!?"
"Ugh, Claudia! What the hell?!"
Claudia kicked a table leg hard, surging to her feet. Dishes shook violently; some sauce splattered onto the siblings opposite.
Ignoring them entirely, she glared at Armin and yelled.
"Who the hell are you—you all—to decide my marriage?!"
Wiping salad dressing from his sleeve with a wry smile, Armin chided her gently, like a naughty child.
"That's how noble marriages work. It happened to me, to Erwin, to Mira. Now it's your turn. No need to raise your voice."
"No way in hell! You think I'll just go along with some marriage you arrange!?"
Every syllable Claudia squeezed out brimmed with raw emotion.
What had all her efforts been for?
Improving her image, tending to her domain's welfare as lord, piling up achievements.
All to avoid being sold off like merchandise, like her mother—a pawn in political marriage.
She'd finally earned the marquis's recognition and prepared to negotiate in earnest, only to get this nonsense relayed by the eldest son without even seeing Father's face. Claudia couldn't accept it.
And toward such a Claudia, Armin simply pronounced.
"Seems you're misunderstanding, little sis. It's not me or Father arranging it. It's the Birka royal family."
Armin stopped there, but Claudia clearly heard the unspoken follow-up in her ears.
—Or do you plan to defy the royals alone?
Only then did she realize.
While second and third struck at her with crude assassination and got backfired, the eldest Armin had landed a masterstroke incomparable.
A royal "request" was no request but a command; royal "goodwill," coercion.
If the Second Prince "graciously" arranged her marriage as a "family elder," refusing or breaking it off would blaspheme the crown.
No matter the internal royal squabbles, they were this kingdom's undisputed rulers.
A mere lord couldn't defy them.
Claudia's face filled with desolation.
She pictured the servant likely waiting in the servants' lounge, who could resolve any problem simply.
'...Cedric, what do I do in a time like this?'