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Chapter 209
“…Sun?”
Her pronunciation was flawless enough to pass for a native Bardem, her demeanor even more elegant than Carmen’s, with keen awareness and patient composure to match.
It was clear she wasn’t just an extra hand hired in haste.
The woman standing before her blended seamlessly with her surroundings, as if she had always lived there.
Everything about her exceeded expectations, to the point where her origins seemed suspicious.
Amaia concealed her skepticism and asked casually, “How did you learn Bardemian?”
“I lived near here when I was young. My father often traveled to Bardem for work, so I naturally picked it up under him.”
“Your demeanor is quite refined as well.”
“Glad to hear I don’t look too bad,” she replied, glancing at Amaia.
Though her face was hidden behind a veil, Amaia was certain a noble smile graced her lips.
It didn’t seem like pressing her further would yield anything more meaningful. Instead of engaging in pointless conversation, Amaia silently picked up the tray and headed out.
With the viscountess unable to leave her chambers, delivering and clearing away her meals had become a major part of her daily routine.
The veiled viscountess—no, Viviana—relaxed only after confirming Amaia had disappeared beyond the door.
“It’s nice not to draw attention, but having an assassin as a companion all day? That’s hardly comforting…”
A soft sigh escaped Viviana’s lips.
Although Iona vouched for her trustworthiness, knowing Amaia’s original profession made it impossible to fully let her guard down around her.
After all, assassins aren’t exactly the type to inspire peace of mind.
Because of this, Viviana only allowed herself to truly relax when Amaia was absent.
‘I never had to stay so tense in front of others when I was a real noble.’
As she reminisced about the past, a faintly wistful smile graced her lips.
Back when she lived as the cherished daughter of Count Schmidt, she paid little heed to etiquette and acted with reckless abandon.
If those who had worked under her in those days could see her now, they might clap in admiration, claiming their young lady had finally matured.
However, when Viscount Ida took over the manor, he replaced all the staff, leaving no one behind who might recognize her.
‘Even if someone had stayed, they wouldn’t recognize me like this.’
Though she had longed to return to her homeland, Viviana had not returned with her rightful identity.
Perhaps sensing how much this troubled her, Iona had left her with a promise before she departed for the viscount’s estate.
“One day, I will see to it that you can remove that veil and reclaim your rightful place as the true ruler of this domain.”
‘Such an earnest and straightforward knight.’
Viviana chuckled softly at the thought.
Frankly, wasn’t killing Viscount Ida and seating her in his place already a significant act of kindness?
Now, Iona was even working to clear her name of the dishonor tied to her real identity.
The overwhelming generosity made Viviana feel almost unworthy.
With a fond grumble, Viviana pulled the documents from the edge of the table toward herself.
For now, since she couldn’t think of a way to repay the favor, she resolved to handle the tasks she’d been entrusted with diligently.
‘It’s a good thing I studied a bit when I was younger.’
Though she was filling in as the lord of the domain in Carmen’s place, Viviana was far better suited for estate management than Carmen.
Unlike Carmen, who had only managed the household, Viviana, as Count Schmidt’s only daughter, had received thorough training as an heir from an early age.
Her claim about learning Bardemian under her father’s influence was no lie.
In Practice, Viviana had even accompanied Count Schmidt on his business trips, gaining firsthand experience visiting various sites.
Before arriving at the viscount’s estate, she had also received practical training under Iona’s guidance, learning the ins and outs of administrative work.
Thanks to these experiences, Viviana was able to adapt to her role as head of the estate without much difficulty.
The retainers, who had initially raised their voices in protest against handing over the entire domain to the childless viscountess, eventually quieted down.
It seemed that Iona had taken measures behind the scenes to ensure Viviana could focus solely on her work without unnecessary interference.
With such an environment crafted for her, failing to meet expectations was simply out of the question.
Viviana carefully scrutinized every move by those trying to exploit Viscount Ida’s sudden death for their gain.
After all, according to Iona’s prophecy, the estate would soon officially become her own inheritance.
“Hmm?”
While flipping through the endless stack of documents, Viviana’s eyes widened.
A small note written in Bardemian was tucked between the papers.
Its content was simple:
[Where to?]
Before drafting a reply, Viviana examined the document’s cover, checking the source of the report to determine whether the note was inserted by someone within the estate or during its delivery.
Her expression grew peculiar.
Was this a remnant of Viscount Ida’s longstanding ties to the Empress?
The estate still seemed to be deeply infiltrated by external forces.
Viviana realized she needed to identify the spies’ positions and decided to start by preparing a response.
She already knew what to write—it was the exact answer she had once received from the same party this suspicious note referenced.
[I only heard they plan to travel across the northern region. It’s difficult to pinpoint a specific location.]
Iona had shared a brief update after meeting with the Empress’ faction:
‘They’re using the viscountess to arrange a meeting with the duchess. Reject their attempts each time and block the connection.’
Prior to receiving the note, Viviana had already declined their request to invite Iona to the estate, claiming the duchess would soon depart on her honeymoon.
But their persistence in immediately inquiring about her destination revealed just how desperate they were.
‘What, do they plan to tail her if I tell them?’
That would be unacceptable.
Recalling Iona’s troubled face, Viviana added another line to the note, meticulously choosing her words.
[—However, since it’s supposed to be a honeymoon, they might visit the Tinberg Mountain Range along the way. She once mentioned wanting to see it during a prior conversation.]
Of course, this was an outright lie.
Iona had deliberately chosen a quiet, inconspicuous route to avoid any potential tracking. A popular tourist destination like the Tinberg Mountain Range was entirely off the table.
“Let them chase their own tails,” Viviana muttered, a smirk tugging at her lips as she whispered a crude phrase she had picked up during her time as a maid.
Little did she realize that she was unwittingly avenging her past self against the enemy who had once taken her life.
****
At first, Iona hadn’t considered her planned journey to be a “real honeymoon.”
After all, sightseeing was just an excuse. Her mind was entirely preoccupied with one thought:
‘How can I discreetly enter the Bilfaud territory without drawing the Empress’ attention?’
Thus, Iona had left all the travel preparations to the head maid, focusing entirely on her meeting with Archduke Ernst .
That decision, however, proved to be a mistake.
The head maid had a vastly different perspective on the trip than Iona.
She had no intention of sending her master and mistress off on a modest journey.
Though she followed Iona’s instructions to pack lightly, it was only in the most technical sense.
“…This really does feel like a proper honeymoon.”
Staring at the grand procession before her, Iona finally acknowledged the undeniable truth.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t considered the possibility—rather, the sheer scale of it all made the reality impossible to ignore.
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