Chapter 95 

“Sir Johann.”

“Vent.”

Johann found it odd that Vent had come by so early in the morning.

“Is something the matter?”

“Oh, no. Not exactly... It’s just… the Young Lord asked me to deliver these documents.”

Vent handed over the papers with a slightly awkward smile.

“Well then, take care.”

He exited the room without another word.

Johann watched him leave, puzzled for only a moment, before picking up the documents Vent had left behind. As he flipped through them, page by page, the color gradually drained from his face. His hands began to tremble violently as he yanked on the bell cord with jerky movements.

“You called for me, sir?”

At the subordinate's appearance, Johann shouted.

“Fetch the Chambermaid and Chamberlain immediately!”

The entire estate was thrown into chaos. The Chambermaid and Chamberlain, who had both been packing their belongings to return home, rushed over the moment they were summoned.

“Sir Johann? Is something wrong?”

The Chambermaid forced a smile, but the moment she stepped into the room and saw who was present, she muttered a curse under her breath.

‘D**n it. Why the hell are they all here?’

Vent, Benjamin, Baron Nouvelle, and the baroness were all in the room.

‘No way…’

Could it be they're giving us more severance pay? Her eyes gleamed with greed.

To be fair, the severance she'd been promised felt far too little for someone who had devoted a lifetime to this household. Even if it amounted to nearly three years’ salary, it still fell short of satisfying her avarice.

‘Right. After everything I’ve done for this family for decades.’

While the Chambermaid was lost in happy delusions, the Chamberlain was pale with dread. He had been in a complete panic before coming, turning his room inside out without even finishing packing.

The documents were gone. The files he had stolen as evidence of his and the Chambermaid’s embezzlement had vanished overnight without a trace.

Johann flung a thick stack of papers in front of them.

“Check it.”

“What are these…?”

Sensing the end of the line, the Chamberlain squeezed his eyes shut. Meanwhile, the Chambermaid, still unaware of the gravity of the situation, began to hurriedly skim the documents. Her face turned ghostly white in an instant.

“These are…”

Everything was there: how she had siphoned off Lady Daphne’s maintenance funds, how she had purchased jewelry from visiting merchants and charged it all to the Madam, and a long list of petty, persistent acts of corruption.

“This… this is slander!”

The Chambermaid dropped to her knees and begged.

“Sir Benjamin! You know how long I’ve worked for the House of Winter!”

“I never imagined you’d spent all those years committing fraud.”

Benjamin looked away, his expression cold.

“I was told you claimed Lady Daphne purchased the jewelry. Then what is this?”

At Baron Nouvelle’s stern question, the two of them collapsed to the floor, trembling violently, unable to answer.

“Take them away!”

The knights dragged the Chambermaid and Chamberlain out of the room with ease.

Still seething, Baron Nouvelle shouted, “And what now? You were all supposedly Lady Daphne’s handmaidens? Know when to stop lying.”

“…Ha.”

Realizing there was no avoiding her bleak future, the Chambermaid suddenly felt indignant.

“Then how are you any different from me?”

“…”

“You hated Madam too! You all ignored her, and now you’re playing the virtuous ones?”

She spat out words she had long held in.

“What I did to Madam... that was attention. What did you all do? You dismissed her, neglected her, treated her like she was invisible! You have no right to judge me!”

Then suddenly, the Chambermaid realized what she had just admitted.

“Ah…”

Her face turned crimson with panic, and she blinked rapidly.

“I-I mean… what I meant to say was…!”

She reached out desperately, but the door slammed shut. Her voice echoed down the corridor.

Even after she was gone, no one in the room moved. Because not a single word she said had been wrong.

If any of them had shown even the smallest bit of concern, they would have noticed something. That they hadn't known for five years meant they hadn’t cared.

The room remained silent for a long while.

— — — 

It had been a hectic day in every sense.

It wasn’t until after they had confiscated the property of the Chambermaid and Chamberlain and exiled them to the North that they realized something else. 

Damian was gone. As confusion spread, Vent finally spoke up.

[“The Young Lord didn’t disappear. He left.”]

He stepped forward to say that he had personally seen Damian off. But they couldn’t just leave things be, so Johann earnestly persuaded Vent to reveal the destination. Upon learning Damian had headed for the capital, they sent someone after him.

The intention was simply to hear news of Damian.

Johann also sent a letter to Yureit, asking her to inform him immediately if she saw or heard from Damian.

There was a week left. A week until the deadline Edmund had mentioned.

* * *

Though Damian had expected to see her as soon as he arrived in the capital, it took longer than anticipated to meet Vanessa.

“It’s been ten days. How have you been?”

Damian, who had crossed the northern regions alone, looked rough and weathered.

“…Why did you come to the North?”

There could only be one reason.

Born an illegitimate child but raised as a noble son because of the Winter family blood in her veins, only to be discarded when a legitimate heir was born – Vanessa.

The only emotion she could possibly harbor toward the House of Winter was: Revenge.

As if she could read his mind, Vanessa’s smile deepened.

“Looks like you’ve already made up your mind about me. Am I wrong?”

Her words made Damian flinch.

“But don’t worry. You’re wrong.”

She turned her gaze out the window.

“It’s not something as petty as revenge.”

He was just about to ask what it was when the carriage stopped and the door opened. Vanessa gestured outward with a tilt of her chin. Suppressing a sigh, Damian stood up.

“Aren’t you curious how I’ve been living? Or how I ended up in a carriage like this?”

The one they were riding was as luxurious as any used by a ducal household. It was only after stepping out that Damian looked around.

‘The Temple?’

The carriage had arrived at the Temple, no ordinary building. Five high-ranking priests, who had clearly been waiting, hurried out and bowed deeply.

“Welcome, Saintess.”

At their words, Damian whipped his head around. But before he could say anything, he felt a sharp sting in his neck.

“Do you remember what I told you before I left?”

[“If we meet again, I’ll share a secret with you.”]

His vision blurred. Strength drained from his body. Damian’s eyes widened in desperation.

“You’re my perfect creation.”

Vanessa’s eyes softened. A smile blossomed on the face that mirrored his.

“My son.”

And Damian lost consciousness.

* * *

“It’s been nine days.”

Nine days since Edmund had left.

“…He said after ten days, so we should wait two more.”

“But if something happened to him, wouldn’t it be better to send someone now?”

Alec made his case, but Johann shook his head firmly.

“That would be like doubting His Excellency.”

“My concern outweighs my faith, sir!”

Alec looked around at the others.

“Does no one agree with me?”

“…I do.”

It was Baroness Nouvelle who raised her hand.

“Madam… isn’t doing well. I think the Ice Stone is close to losing its effect.”

No matter how large the supply, small magic stones were ineffective. They had tried again and again, but Lady Daphne’s body continued to reject the divine energy within the stones. They had already wasted dozens in vain, and it showed in the Baroness’s anxious face.

“Just as Sir Alec says, we should send someone now to help His Excellency.”

“Oh, dear.”

Baron Nouvelle gently wrapped his wife in his arms, patting her trembling shoulders. With no clear direction and nothing they could do, time passed in agony.

By dusk, as night fell, the door to the room burst open. Two figures in hooded robes stood silently in the doorway.

“Who goes there?”

Alec instinctively reached for his weapon. Oddly, though snow was falling outside, their robes were spotless, no sign of melting snow or dampness.

“It’s me.”

A familiar voice accompanied the lowering of a hood.

“I’ve brought the Archmage.”

It was Nick.

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