RAMHM Chapter 41

Finding the Corpse

Marie was a maid who had worked at the Trovika Grand Ducal Estate for less than a year.

Marie's origins were entirely different from the other servants selected by the Emperor's orders. The estate's servants were mostly wealthy commoners hoping to seize opportunities for social advancement someday. Among them were servants from fallen noble families who refused to do any menial labor—Annie being one of them.

Bang! Bang-bang! Bang!

"Stop it, stop! What did I even do wrong!"

"Hic—sob... It's dawn, it's dawn right now!"

"What are you trying to do, not even letting me sleep? Just beat me already, you damned bastards!"

When Marie, from a poor commoner background, entered the Grand Ducal Estate, she'd had hopes that her life would transform into something rainbow-colored.

"Just let me catch whoever it is. I'll destroy that woman completely!"

At Annie's shrieking from inside the closet, driven by spite, Marie wiped away the sweat flowing like rain and trembled. Not just Marie—servants who'd accumulated grievances over time had swarmed over, kicking the closet at all hours and insulting Annie's group.

At first, it had been the Countess's orders, but after Annie spent nearly four days in the closet without a single sip of water or scrap of bread, gradually going mad and wailing, Marie had thought serves her right.

About five days passed like that. When she heard the sound of fingernails scratching at the closet door and knocked, a voice on the verge of dying from thirst leaked out from inside.

"That woman... Bring that woman... to me..."

Besides Annie's closet, withered crying sounds leaked out consecutively from other closets. Marie steeled her heart further and raised her foot. Bang!!

'If they ask for me, kick the closet harder instead of answering. Don't bring me until they beg politely.'

Just as the lady said, Annie had started asking for the lady. After that, Marie diligently kicked the closet a few more times, then began running to find the lady who would be having her meal.

Meanwhile, Gaspar, the butler of the Trovika Grand Ducal Estate, watched Bliea leisurely exit the guest room and stride through the mansion as if it were her own home.

'Less commotion than expected.'

The lady who came down to the dining room at mealtime began eating elegantly, attended by maids brought from her own estate. Watching her, Gaspar's face grew hot for no reason.

"Is there anything uncomfortable about your stay?"

"?"

Gaspar had been feeling the lady's gaze directed at him constantly these past few days, and when their eyes occasionally met, he recalled her meaningful smile that made his heart tremble. Perhaps that was why—

"I'll take every measure within my authority to ensure Your Ladyship's comfort."

Originally, according to the Grand Duke of Trovika's orders, that lady should have been under somewhat stricter surveillance, but there'd been a tendency to loosen things—his doing. Gaspar desperately wanted to ensure she knew. She was the reason, his authority the instrument. The lady, observing Gaspar with his chest thrust forward in confidence, smiled quietly, her eyes gone languid and appraising.

"You seem quite important in this estate. Is it because you're capable?"

"Though I remain here as butler now, if asked whom His Grace trusts as much as Sir Jimskehr, his aide-de-camp, I can confidently say it's me."

"So you're quite useful, then."

"I won't remain like this forever."

Unable to contain his pounding heart, Gaspar approached the lady showing interest in him and bowed his head.

"If I achieve merit and obtain even a barony... I'll serve His Highness the Crown Prince as a new noble."

For a moment, the lady's eyes seemed to sparkle. Gaspar wanted to catch this lady's attention a bit more. Once he, young and capable, became a new noble someday, a moderately refined wife of noble birth would be essential. But he knew very well that no powerful family would give their daughter to a new noble.

But what about a divorced lady? A widowed lady would be even better. Bliea Acacia's status had already been laundered once through marriage to Count Acacia. From the moment Gaspar took interest in this lady, he'd had the strong thought that she was providence's arrangement for him.

If the master discarded her, couldn't he, a servant, have her? The dead Grand Duchess had been like an unreachable high mountain, but Bliea, who resembled her—she was a woman he could obtain if only the master abandoned her.

Today, I watched Gaspar with his particularly oil-soaked eyes and swallowed down my revulsion, testing him.

"...I'm curious why His Grace trusts and intends to use you significantly."

"I handle far more administrative matters on His Grace's behalf than even Sir Jimskehr."

I wanted to shove that pompous face far away, but deliberately smiled slightly instead.

"For example?"

"It's classified information..."

"Is even something simple difficult?"

"Gifts sent to the late Grand Duchess always passed through my hands rather than His Grace's. He valued my discernment highly. The accompanying letters as well."

"You wrote letters on His Grace's behalf."

"Yes, surely you already knew that much."

I barely managed to chew and swallow my food, rinsing my mouth with red wine. Gaspar watched me as if entranced.

Perhaps... the letters exchanged after marriage weren't with Novian at all, but with this bastard.

Or Novian received my letters and told Gaspar to reply like this. My mouth felt gritty, as if I'd chewed and swallowed sand.

"Of course I knew. I highly value your little talent for imitating others' handwriting. I might need to ask a favor when necessary."

"Anytime you wish."

Clang! The fork I'd been holding was thrown sharply onto the plate. I wanted to slap Gaspar's face—he'd swallowed the bait so readily at my probing words.

It wasn't that Rhodness, Novian, and Gaspar all had identical handwriting. Novian had simply used Gaspar, who could imitate Rhodness's handwriting. I finished my meal with a hollow expression.

"M-Madam! Um—"

Just then, Marie quietly entered the dining room and approached me, whispering in my ear. I gave Gaspar—who'd lightened my burden somewhat—a perfunctory smile and looked for Yona.

The Second Prince Rhodness's palace remained tightly closed in silence again today. Having flatly refused all summons from both the Emperor and Crown Prince for the time being, only his aides suffered beneath him.

"May I really take this?"

"Yes."

Neil clicked his tongue watching Rhodness dismiss yet another letter and package sent by Countess Acacia. His lord, who'd confidently vowed just a day ago to seduce the Grand Duke's mistress with a honey trap and obtain what he wanted, had changed his mind.

After that, letters and things like cookies or pudding she'd supposedly made herself arrived from the lady several times over several days. Sometimes even flower baskets came, showing she had talent for flower arranging.

As Neil collected the gifts from the lady and left, Rhodness's eyes sank again. For days now, unable to even enter his bedroom, he'd been sitting in his office, sleeping and waking repeatedly. The office, which once exuded a refreshing fragrance, was now filled with the smell of alcohol—indistinguishable from a tavern.

Rhodness had decided to no longer handle anything related to Bliea Acacia directly.

'I must not meet that woman.'

Just because he'd help her didn't mean he had to step forward personally, did it? Since he'd made an initial promise, he couldn't completely ignore her right away. So he'd help without meeting her. Not just Vincento and Neil—his Second Imperial Knight Order had many talented individuals.

Rhodness, who'd been pressing his temples and gritting his teeth for a while, hesitated before opening his desk drawer. The package of cookies the woman claimed to have made for the first time in her life rolled around inside with its ribbon still tied.

"Adrienne..."

If I confirm the corpse and accept your death as that woman said, can I sever you? The moment he thought that, a bitter laugh burst from his mouth.

'Ridiculous.'

If he could have forgotten you by seeing another person with his eyes, touching another person with his hands—he wouldn't have loved you so deeply from the start, wouldn't have suffered when you became another man's wife.

A meaningless hypothetical. Just because every moment facing a woman who resembled you, who called you to mind, made his heart plummet to the floor... could he forget you? No. Should he forget you?

Adrienne was the only person who made him want to become better—his sanctuary. To you, who'd already given your heart to someone else, this state of his might look pathetic, might not look like a fine man's appearance. Others looking on might say he's acting as if he were your husband, but even so, he cannot let you go. No...

'I don't want to let go.'

When he dreamed, Adrienne appeared, silently shedding only tears. Even that—when he woke from dreams, her face remained only blurry, tormenting him.

'Don't be sad, Adrienne.'

Your husband betrayed you, but I didn't.

'If I confirm your corpse and am still drawn to that woman...'

...Then I'll end my own life and come to your side. Even if I can only be by your side until your husband dies, I don't care. If I don't do that...

'I feel like I'm being strangled to death right now.'

"Your Highness! Your Highness!!"

Rhodness, who'd been screaming silently, slowly shifted his gaze at the sound of violent knocking on his dark office door. Neil, face flushed bright red as if he'd run urgently, entered his office with some maid in tow.

"Countess Acacia has sent someone again!"

"...Don't my words sound like words? Ignore it."

"She didn't send a letter—it's a message delivered directly!"

Neil hastily pushed the maid forward.

"She said she found the person Your Highness wanted, and to come immediately with the messenger to confirm."

At the young maid's words—spoken with a grave expression, trembling slightly yet clearly—all color drained completely from Rhodness's face. Rhodness understood at once what it meant. She'd found Adrienne, so follow this maid to confirm the corpse.

I ordered care for the maids collapsed and sweating cold in the closets, then quietly headed underground. I personally opened the always-empty underground prison. The thick iron door scraped open without proper oiling.

"Madam, madam, is this really all right..."

"Did you do as told?"

"I opened the wine cellar, drugged everything, and made them all eat and sleep. Fortunately, there's strict security only outside the Grand Ducal Estate—few servants inside, so hardly anyone in this annex."

Marge, summoned to me in the middle of the night, completed her mission like the seasoned maid she was, despite her worry.

Annie had practically begged me, saying all she knew was that Novian frequently visited the underground prison in the annex. The moment my speculation—that he might have hidden it in the annex where guests stayed—became certainty.

Once the location became clearer, everything after was easier. Fearing the corpse's location might leak, he'd stationed minimal personnel to guard it, so I didn't need to deal with many people. I ordered everyone working in the annex put to sleep and even the back door opened wide.

While Marge went out to stand watch just in case, I descended to the very end of the dark underground prison relying on a single candle, then followed my gaze along the moonlight pouring through a small window. My corpse inside the glass case was clearly visible. The underground prison on an early winter night was cold and chilly, as if inside ice.

"...Hello."

I walked stumblingly forward and finally greeted myself, whom I was seeing after so long. The corpse still seemed asleep, intact and beautiful. Relief came first. Because if An had seen my corpse looking ugly, it would be so sad if that became his last memory.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Footsteps—unmistakably military boots—and sounds following him gradually grew louder from above the underground prison.

When footsteps and heartbeats alternated rapidly in my ears, I saw Rhodness stop at the entrance. The prince's face—once courteous yet arrogant and leisurely—was nowhere to be found, and his beautiful eyes shook violently like the candlelight I held.