Kaella. Kaella. Kaella.

He wanted to keep calling that name. He wanted to call her name without any hesitation, like a husband calling his wife with whom he had spent a long time comfortably.

Not by titles like princess or rain, but with affection in that name, he wanted to call her preciously. Of all names, it had to be Kaella. It suited her so well, fragile and heartbreakingly beautiful.

Couldn’t she get just a little healthier?

Peon looked down at Kaella who had fallen asleep exhausted, and held her tighter. He couldn’t torment his wife all night, who had gotten so sick she vomited all the food she had eaten so deliciously at Beatrice’s words.

He just held her so she wouldn’t have bad dreams, let her sleep soundly, licked her wounds, and sucked out the venom pooled in her ears. Anyway, Kaella, who didn’t have the strength to handle all the affection he poured on her, moaned in pleasure while groaning and fell asleep.

“…Kaella.”

Once light enters the bedroom again, he won’t be able to call this name. Outside, he had to maintain strict politeness so that the arrogant nobles wouldn’t treat Kaella carelessly. Of course, he didn’t intend to watch that for long.

Not much time was left. So Peon didn’t let go of Kaella. Even this was shameless. He knew. He was ultimately a brazen mongrel, a bastard without a father.

Having learned nothing, he would keep clinging to today. Postponing atonement and repentance, he savored and engraved each moment of lying with Kaella, splitting it again and again.

‘Did you come back too?’

He wanted to ask but was too scared to. For Peon, regression was an opportunity. An opportunity to live properly, correctly again. An opportunity to not commit the sins he had committed again. But could such an opportunity come so easily to a sinner?

He wasn’t sure. Or perhaps he was cowardly pretending not to see, lacking the courage to face the sins packed in the foul-smelling box he had created.

Just a little, just a little more. Kaella smiled last night, so maybe this time would be different, he thought, nurturing hope arbitrarily. This moment was so dreamlike, so happy, so good that he wanted to ignore everything.

At the same time, he was filled with disgust recalling the past days when he desperately pretended not to see and ignored her, while being at a loss with how much he loved his wife seven years younger. He desperately held Kaella.

I’ll do well. This time I’ll do well. I’ll only look at you straight on, listen carefully to everything you say, not miss a single expression or breath, so this time, please.

Please.

Peon closed his eyes, unable to even ask for forgiveness.

*

The name of Beatrice Ravalle was gradually diluted in Lucenford.

As soon as Lady Ravalle appeared, His Grace the Grand Duke immediately went to Her Grace’s bedroom every night.

He loved her so much every night that the maids who attended to Her Grace’s bath quickly turned their heads when they saw the red marks blooming on her fair skin, but felt strangely satisfied.

They had worried what if the mistress they served was tormented by the flower of high society throughout her married life, but lo and behold. Beatrice Ravalle was thoroughly treated as an unwelcome guest, and the taciturn Grand Duke did not even create opportunities to face her.

Today too, he had just left after staying in the bedroom very late. Thanks to this, the Grand Duchess started her day much later.

‘Let’s just do it.’

The maids, and Peon too, were making a fuss that she was a bit sick. So he didn’t go all the way last night either.

As if her satisfaction was more important than his pleasure, he embraced her incessantly in an embarrassing way. When she cried because she was so embarrassed, he even licked away all her tears, muttering like a madman how pretty she was.

What’s so pretty. Just fulfill your duty as a husband and be done with it.

“Oh my, at this rate, it’s no use wrapping your neck tightly,” Denise muttered, looking at the red marks on the inside of her wrist. Neck, shoulders, inner arms, thighs or calves, behind the ears, wherever there was soft white flesh, he had sucked and bitten it all. Somehow it was even worse than before, so Denise was grinning from ear to ear.

“You’ll have to dress as you have been, Your Grace. It’s spring now, if you wrap up everything tightly, you’ll be very hot during the day.”

“Even so, I have an interview with the investigator today, how can I show all this?”

“Oh, Your Grace. If you’re hot during the day, you’ll get cold at night when the sweat cools. Then you’ll catch a cold again. And if we pull the collar like this and cover it, and put on a shawl too, it’s perfect, right? See? It’s perfect and good.”

After insisting stubbornly and laughing to herself, Denise finally made Kaella laugh along with an expression of disbelief. Cecile was also smiling contentedly while tidying up around them.

“You’re so beautiful, Your Grace,” Denise muttered very satisfactorily.

“Really, really so beautiful. His Grace the Grand Duke should see this sight, oh, what a shame!”

Peon was too busy today as well. He was already someone who moved from dawn, but he dawdled to see if Kaella, who had gotten sick, was digesting the thin porridge well in the morning, so it would be an even busier day.

“His Grace the Grand Duke has already seen how lovely Your Grace is and left, so. Let’s hurry and get you ready.”

The Grand Duke had insisted on sitting Kaella, who had barely opened her eyes, on his lap throughout breakfast and even hand-fed her porridge. He kept kissing Kaella so much that the meal was barely eaten.

“Your Grace shouldn’t be late for the interview.”

That’s right. The investigator was now thoroughly investigating what happened in the process of the Grand Duchess nearly dying from eating bad food. The victim also had to be interviewed in the investigation that had been going on for days, and today was that day.

The maids busily dressed Kaella and managed to send her out just in time.

*

The sudden guests who came to Lucenford gained nothing from the banquet.

Isidore was reading the detailed incident report written by Peon’s secretary again, though he had already read it several times.

Is the Grand Duke really not responsible for this incident? Of course, the Grand Duke took responsibility by exiling the head maid and executing five nobles including the head chef who cooperated, but still.

‘His Majesty the Emperor won’t be satisfied with just this.’

The reason he instinctively thought this was because he was from the Dakiten family.

Because they were the Empress’s family that had suddenly produced an Empress from an ordinary count family, became dukes, then were demoted to marquises again, and had to constantly be wary of the Emperor.

Watching his father constantly prostrate himself before the Emperor, Isidore learned with his body the fact that imperial power held their lives.

I’m not sure if that Hyperion bastard will properly act as a husband.

The Emperor, who suddenly appointed Isidore as the investigator to send to Lucenford, muttered with a haggard face from constantly nursing the Empress.

My precious niece nearly died, surely that bastard must have been careless.

To Isidore, it sounded like he absolutely had to be. And then to suddenly send Beatrice Ravalle to Lucenford, the Emperor was truly a terrifyingly scary person.

He felt sorry for his aunt caught by such a person, but also disliked her. After all, wasn’t it because his aunt misbehaved that the Dakiten family became so diminished?

For the first time, despite not having royal blood flowing in them, they couldn’t even enjoy the honor of being a mere noble family that produced an Empress, and were just stuck there with only the title of Marquis of Alemici.

‘What on earth does he want?’

His instincts and senses turned towards his cousin the Grand Duke, but Isidore had regrettably never been able to catch up to him.

From the start, there was no way to find any flaws in the backyard of such a monster of a man who had never lost in rank fights.

But the Emperor’s intentions in sending even Beatrice Ravalle were clear. If Beatrice caused any trouble, he had to find evidence there that Peon had been negligent in keeping Kaella safe.

“Are you feeling a bit better?”

Isidore sat down, examining Kaella’s complexion.

“I’m fine. Thanks for worrying, brother.”

“Still, I’ll finish quickly. Actually, I don’t have much to ask you.”

The incident report was written too objectively, and the Grand Duke also apologized to the Grand Duchess several times for his negligent management.

“That’s true.”

Kaella, with half her face gone, nodded that those words were correct in the interview.

“I don’t understand. How could there be such reckless minions and local nobles?”

“There are such places.”

“It’s not your fault, Kaella.”

“I know.”

But there were many inevitable things. She stared out the window. Things like fate, or death, were inevitable. No matter how much you screamed your throat raw and struggled to escape, what couldn’t be done couldn’t be done.

“Was there really nothing else? People who weren’t punished, or things not recorded in the incident report?”

Kaella looked at Isidore again.

“There probably were. But that was my first day in Lucenford, so I didn’t know who was who. Only those with witnesses were punished, right?”

There were several who avoided execution but were banned from entering the castle and dismissed from their positions. Of course. If the Grand Duchess had died, hardly anyone in Lucenford Castle would have survived. Even that was considering the fact that they had just gotten married.

But there were clearly many people in the banquet hall. There were very many, and Kaella heard multiple voices. There wasn’t enough evidence to punish all the voices that briefly passed by. Surely some people must have escaped.

“After that, I was constantly sick. There is something a bit questionable, but… there’s no evidence.”

“Questionable?”

Isidore leaned forward.

“Yeah. You know well about household employees too. If you don’t watch them, they’ll stab you in the back, steal things.”

Isidore immediately sighed and nodded at Kaella’s words. As someone who employed people, he couldn’t help but sympathize.

“Right. Our father was also victimized. It’s too common to mention. Everyone won’t hire without a letter of recommendation because they can’t find trustworthy people.”

“My husband worked hard to clean up this incident. But we’re a bit uneasy about something. The head maid didn’t get caught…”

Kaella looked at Isidore.

“…Could the butler not have known?”

*

This visit by the imperial investigator should have ended, as always, with just giving Peon a wake-up call to come to his senses.

Peon always hated it when people sent by the Emperor came and stirred up Lucenford, considered it surveillance of himself, and was always uncooperative. And he tried to drive them out with all sorts of excuses.

But unlike before, Peon fully cooperated with the investigators, instructed them to provide everything, and then left them alone.

He didn’t even seem particularly displeased. He just went about organizing troops and distributing new seeds to farmers planting crops. While everyone was tense and uncomfortable, only the Grand Duke was calm.

“Tear it out.”

When the investigators who had rushed into the office tore out even the secret drawer they had desperately tried to hide, the butler realized that all this was not going according to his thoughts.

“Take it all.”

“No, that’s…!”

No matter how he tried to stop them, he couldn’t stop the investigators wielding imperial authority. Even if they were to strike, it should be a rod striking Peon, how could they strike this faithful butler!

Butler Rolf Anderson, Viscount, not only had his secrets that needed to be hidden handed over intact to others after 20 years, but also had to undergo an intense investigation.

He was truly wronged! What on earth had he done? Even if he denied doing anything, the investigators didn’t seem to believe him. The butler, who suddenly became the center of the investigation, was barely released after two hours.

“Your Grace, Grand Duke!”

The butler hurriedly ran to the only person who could hear his grievances. Forcing strength into his staggering knees, he had nowhere to go but Peon, whom he had raised himself.

‘His expression looking at the investigators wasn’t good at all, he must have realized. That’s right. Of course. The Grand Duchess is the Emperor’s niece. She’s not one of us.’

At least that’s what the butler thought as he rushed to Peon and pleaded.

“Right now, those, those investigators turned my office upside down…! The Krain people said nonsensical things and interrogated me, an innocent person, for hours under the guise of investigation, it’s truly too unjust.”

The old butler spoke with a voice strained enough for Peon to pity him, while standing straight despite his legs trembling from the investigation.

He had to speak in a voice that wasn’t too much, but sufficiently difficult for Peon to feel sorry for him. That way, even if the investigators later discovered something he hadn’t managed to hide, he could safely get through it.

Of course, the butler didn’t think at all that the investigators would look at 20 years’ worth of ledgers. How could that be? It’s just a shallow trick by those Krain bastards trying to suppress Lucenford while putting on a show of power. The butler knew this well too.

“That’s what they always do, why be surprised now?”

But the butler didn’t know that Peon would say those words while glancing at him indifferently.

“As you said, if you’re innocent, you don’t need to worry. I’m not worrying either.”

The son raised by the butler showed his broad back and turned around.

“Don’t waver and focus on your original duties.”

The chilly air was dampened. There were signs of rain that would briefly thaw the ground before freezing it again. The butler blankly watched his son walk away, then fumbled along the wall and fled into the castle.

His son had been blinded by a southern woman and betrayed him. He even exiled his mother, and said the outrageous thing about raising the southern woman’s illegitimate child, and now he won’t even look back at this pitiful father.

He staggered and crawled to a deeper and deeper place, where the investigator didn’t know and his grown son no longer came, and collapsed there.

Is it because he’s so worn out from the investigation? No, is it because he’s suddenly shocked? He’ll feel better after resting a bit.

‘His Grace the Grand Duke is a fully grown person, so he must have said the right thing. That’s right. I raised him well.’

That’s how it is. He raised him well. But why does it feel so chilling?

“It seems something has happened.”

The butler raised his head. Beatrice, who used to play here with young Peon, was standing in the darkness.

“Did Isidore go too far?”

She asked from the darkness. Her nonchalant tone carried no emotion.

“And Peon didn’t even care?”

That was exactly the question the butler had been waiting and longing for.