122. The Lady of Locksenhart

2024.01.30.

“The Crown Prince is currently staying at a town house located in the wealthy district. I heard he wished to leave the cold northern regions and indulge himself in the warm southern seas and the company of women? Wait—hold on. If you’re here for an interview, you should go to the annex where the women gather, not here.”

“If you’ve come merely to serve tea and run errands, then leave at once.”

“How rude!”

The chattering maids’ voices abruptly ceased due to a man’s sharp rebuke.

The butler, who had just escorted Empress Marilyn and Noel to the guest room, was now rushing toward them, visibly pale.

“Please forgive my rudeness. I am Butler Gobban. It’s currently the social season, and the marquisate is receiving numerous guests, so these young maids failed to properly recognize you.”

The middle-aged man, well-built and sweating profusely, bowed deeply.

Introducing himself as Gobban, the butler of the marquis, he appeared completely overwhelmed—constantly checking a thick bundle of papers in his hand, marking lines with his quill, and verifying the gifts Empress Marilyn had brought.

In front of Yuan and Tasha’s eyes, he sternly scolded the young maids while bowing apologetically—though to Tasha, it seemed like a performative scolding meant only to impress finicky noble ladies from the capital.

After all, the maids didn’t appear particularly frightened by the butler’s reprimand. He bowed again.

“Why has the Crown Prince suddenly traveled to the south?”

Tasha asked in an interrogative tone, causing Butler Gobban to startle. He glared once more at the maids before carefully choosing his words.

“Lady Kimfri, if I may say so, that is not a matter easily spoken of by someone like me.”

“The mistress of Locksenhart is right here. Do you not think such an answer lacks sincerity?”

At the mention of “the mistress of Locksenhart,” not only the butler but also the staff bustling around carrying luggage turned their attention sharply.

Tasha had merely asked the butler, as Empress’s lady-in-waiting, to understand why the royal family had come south. But now, caught in the sudden wave of attention, she glanced at Yuan with a startled expression.

Butler Gobban stiffened, then began to ramble.

“His Imperial Highness the Crown Prince has been confined for quite some time. Perhaps he simply wished to enjoy the sea view and take part in our southern social season, famous even in the capital? As for His Highness’s personal affairs, Her Imperial Highness the Crown Princess would surely know better. That question, in particular, is difficult for someone like me to answer.”

His reply was slick and evasive, but he wiped cold sweat from his brow as he spoke.

Tasha, too, belatedly checked Yuan’s expression.

Throughout the journey south, Tasha had been irritated by Noel constantly hovering around Yuan. Yet, she couldn’t fully hate Yuan, who quietly fulfilled her duties—leaving her in a conflicted state.

Especially when she saw Yuan’s face occasionally turn pale or bleed from the nose after the slightest exertion, Tasha felt her resolve crumbling.

It was sheer frustration with no proper outlet.

Even arguing with her brother Eugene Kimfri had its limits.

Unlike others who watched Yuan carefully, Yuan herself showed little change in expression despite her pale face.

Even that composed face stirred in Tasha a strange mix of conflicting emotions.

She was infuriating—and yet, pitifully so.

While Butler Gobban hurriedly led them to the guest room, Yuan simply clutched a small trunk and followed behind, giving no indication that she’d heard rumors of her husband’s scandalous behavior.

If she had shouted in outrage, accusing her husband of misconduct, Tasha might have instinctively sympathized.

But each time Yuan acted as if it were none of her concern, Tasha felt a creeping anxiety—was she truly involved in an improper relationship with Noel or Bollonico? Or, if not that, had she perhaps been mistreated by the Crown Prince, fueling those dark rumors?

She wanted to bombard her with private questions.

‘Absolutely doesn’t add up.’

Angrily fuming, Tasha stomped her feet as she walked, thinking at last she’d be able to stay a little apart from that infuriatingly mysterious Crown Princess.

“Haha. There are simply too many guests at the marquisate right now. All the proper guest rooms for honored guests are fully occupied. Please, share a room for a few days.”

Contrary to Tasha’s expectations, Butler Gobban gave an awkward smile as he suggested she and Yuan would have to share a room.

***

Federico Companni, Empress Marilyn’s younger brother, returned to the main residence the next evening after finishing his duties.

Federico Companni was a handsome middle-aged man with chocolate-colored skin and almond-shaped eyes, much like Empress Marilyn and Noel.

However, his face and hair appeared slightly weathered, likely from prolonged exposure to sea winds. He repeatedly smoothed down his disheveled blond hair as he listened to his older sister’s complaints.

He immediately ordered dinner to be prepared for Empress Marilyn.

The marquisate’s dining room was soon lavishly arranged for Empress Marilyn, Noel, Yuan, and Tasha.

Federico Companni said he would hold a grand welcoming ceremony for his sister separately, but tonight he had to leave again after dinner for urgent matters.

Instead, he urged Empress Marilyn to relax and enjoy dinner with him, promising to talk more tomorrow.

Despite the piano music played for her and the rich aroma of southern wine, Empress Marilyn’s eyes grew heavy as she watched her busy younger brother, who was just as occupied as the servants preparing for the social season.

Even returning to her family home after years, Empress Marilyn found no relief or change in mood.

“How is Harol Companni doing? Is he still bossing you around at every turn?”

“Sister.”

Looking tired, Federico Companni glanced briefly at Tasha and Yuan before offering a smile. Seeing that kind expression, Empress Marilyn downed another glass of wine in irritation.

“How dare a mere outsider, a rolling stone, order around the rightful heir—*you*? I can already picture that snake, Harol, flattering and provoking you. I know exactly how he behaves, Federico.”

“Still, I’ve heard from the maids that he treats you well. Is that true?”

“Hmph. He only pretends to respect me because he needs to follow Bollonico’s shadow.”

Empress Marilyn scoffed, slamming her wine glass down with a sharp clink. She usually placed it down quietly, observing court etiquette, but now she was visibly relaxed, even more so than when she was unwell in the palace.

Seeing this, Tasha quietly explained to Yuan, who was watching intently.

“The Companni Marquisate was originally meant to be inherited by Lord Federico. But about ten years ago, the previous marquis was executed for allegedly joining a rebellion. Instead of Federico, the Emperor appointed a distant relative, the current Marquis Companni—Harol Companni—to the position. The Emperor showed mercy by not stripping the family of their title or lands, since it was the Empress’s family.”

Yuan quietly nodded, recalling the general outline she had studied before.

To summarize:

The Companni Marquisate bordered the Torca Islands across the sea and suffered frequent pirate raids, so it maintained a large private military force.

Thus, the imperial court refrained from active intervention whenever conflicts arose with the Torca people or pirate invasions occurred.

The court’s stance was that the marquisate should handle such matters independently. This policy bred resentment, leading the Companni family and several other southern noble houses to conspire and attempt a rebellion upon the death of the late Emperor Alexei.

The rebellion was swiftly crushed by the Duke Drietter of the Eastern region and the Northern forces led by Emperor Igor.

During this, the heads of the rebellious families were executed, and their houses eradicated.

Since the Companni Marquisate was Empress Marilyn’s family, the Emperor showed special leniency—executing only her father, the Marquis, but sparing the rest of the family.

Instead, he confiscated most of their wealth, stripped Federico Companni—the rightful heir—of his succession rights, and installed Harol Companni, a distant relative, as the new head.

Hence, it wasn’t surprising that Yuan had seen the Companni seal on the “Path of Loyalty.”

It was Bollonico who had recommended Harol Companni, a distant branch of a distant branch.

Federico Companni serving as acting marquis rather than the official marquis was likely because Harol remained in the capital, closely attending to Bollonico.

Harol had never received proper training as a noble head, so Federico, the rightful heir, had no choice but to remain and manage the estate in his stead.

Perhaps Empress Marilyn had even pleaded tearfully during that process.

In any case, the current situation in the southern Companni Marquisate was this:

Federico, the legitimate heir, was the one actually doing the work—but he held no authority to claim himself as master.

Yuan could feel, deep in her bones, the source of Empress Marilyn’s resentment toward Bollonico.

To have Harol, a man she despised, elevated and constantly by the Emperor’s side—no wonder her heart burned with bitterness.

Muttering curses about Harol Companni, who wasn’t even present and likely drunk somewhere, Empress Marilyn watched her younger brother’s retreating back as he left in the middle of the night after soothing her.

“My Federico, out working late like this. If Father were alive and saw Harol and Federico now, how heartbroken he would be!”

The elderly maids serving dinner, having overheard everything the previous day within their domain, nodded in agreement and added more information.

Apparently, Federico Companni had gone to offer women from the marquisate to the Crown Prince.

“Women?”

“He’s rented a town house in the wealthy district and stays there throughout the summer social season. Women from the marquisate visit daily. They say it’s for serving a noble, but what kind of service could that possibly be?”

“Our Emperor went so far as to hold a grand, elaborate investiture ceremony for his nephew. Yes, he should travel proudly across the nation. Not surprising at all.”

Empress Marilyn frowned and shook her head in disgust, clearly repulsed by the idea that her own brother had to lead such a degrading task just to please the imperial family.

“The men of the Euphris imperial line are all like this, aren’t they? Isn’t that right, Bi?”