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Chapter 275
Saskia, who had been clapping as if in admiration, suddenly wiped the smile off her lips.
With a stern expression, Saskia asked,
“Are you serious?”
Faced with her frightening presence, Iona instinctively flinched.
It was hard to tell whether Saskia wanted a firm assurance of reward, or if she meant to interrogate her for driving her into such a situation.
Either way, Iona’s answer would not change.
“Do you doubt my loyalty to you, Captain?”
“Then how does someone like that toss in a resignation the moment they get married?”
“Because just liking the boss doesn’t magically make one like the job as well.”
“…Well, well. Since when did my adorable subordinate… get so clever? I’m very proud of you, you know.”
Grinding her teeth, Saskia snatched up the teacup before her and downed it in one gulp.
It seemed the heat rising within her chest had overpowered the scalding temperature of freshly poured tea.
Feeling slightly awkward, Iona tried to soothe her.
[Please, don’t be too angry. I’m not about to make any unreasonable requests.]
In that brief span, Saskia looked as though she had aged years, her expression sinking into weariness.
With one hand, she silently rubbed her face, then propped her chin upon it.
Staring fixedly at Iona, she asked,
“Do you know how I managed to seize the position of Knight Captain at such a young age?”
“Because your background was that outstanding?”
Iona answered lightly, almost joking, and then scribbled on the paper:
[Of course, it was thanks to your remarkable skill at maneuvering.]
That must have been the response Saskia wanted, because she let out a short laugh.
Indeed, Saskia’s ability to read a situation was exceptional.
Her rise to Knight Captain had many overlapping factors, but the decisive one was none other than Richard’s difficult personality.
Most ambitious men who dreamed of inheriting the position of Captain had failed to appease him and thus had their paths to success cut off.
Saskia, however, knew when to step back and when to step forward.
She was gentle without being servile, dignified without being arrogant.
The only person Richard did not find vulgar enough to dismiss was her. Naturally, it left her with no rivals in the end.
Even after rising to Captain, Saskia continued to balance the scales, managing the favor of her superiors evenly and avoiding unnecessary turbulence.
In short, she possessed impeccable equilibrium.
And balance wasn’t something one achieved merely by sticking to the middle.
“That’s right. No matter if you’re a princess, don’t delude yourself into thinking you can toy with me at will. Do you understand?”
[Then, at least let me speak my request first. Surely I deserve that much choice?]
For once, Saskia fixed Iona with a truly serious gaze.
It was only natural.
If Saskia had been the type to recklessly hand out aid without weighing the odds, she would never have risen to her current station.
The unfortunate fact, however, was that Iona had spent so long at her side that she knew all too well where her weaknesses lay.
In a way, it wasn’t so different from the case of Richard.
[The Empress will try to have me killed. She’ll disguise it as an unavoidable accident, or pin it on some distant scapegoat.]
As she read the words, Saskia’s shoulders visibly jolted.
Iona ignored her reaction and pressed on.
[When I sense I may be in danger, all I ask is that you give me some warning beforehand. The rest—I’ll handle myself.]
After marking the sentence with a firm period, Iona lifted her gaze to meet Saskia’s. Then, in her usual calm tone, she asked,
“Do I look like I’m acting arrogant, simply because I might carry the bloodline of the Imperial Family?”
“…Then you’re saying you’re not?”
“It’s only that the grace I’ve received from you was so great… that I wished for a chance someday to repay it. After all, you’ve always treated me well, Captain.”
Those words were nothing but the truth.
Iona knew that if the Empress and the Crown Prince were pushed out of the palace, all those who had once served beneath them would not escape blame either.
For Saskia, stepping over to this side in advance was not necessarily a bad choice.
Of course—only if the coup succeeded.
Seeing Saskia so troubled, Iona threw out a decisive move.
“Captain, haven’t you always had quite a fondness for me? Just as I have for you.”
This was the woman who once even considered challenging a subordinate’s own brother to a duel, simply because her subordinate often showed up with bruises on her face.
There was no way this frightening yet gentle woman would sit idly by while Iona faced a threat to her life.
Perhaps realizing the implication hidden between Iona’s words, Saskia bared her teeth in frustration.
Letting out a hollow laugh, she muttered,
“You’ve grown a bit shameless since you got married.”
“I suppose I’ve just gotten more used to expressing affection,” Iona replied with a brazen shrug.
Saskia’s expression twisted, as if she might explode with fury, but she didn’t hesitate for long. After all, her answer had already been decided.
With a sigh, Saskia reached across the table and lazily scrawled with her pen.
When she pulled her hand back, a single, big, clumsy circle was revealed on the paper.
***
The Emperor’s death had the feeling of a wedding that comes only after a long engagement.
Ever since he had fallen ill and taken to bed, everyone had quietly prepared themselves for his passing, so the funeral rites proceeded as though they had been rehearsed.
If there was one thing the Empress hadn’t anticipated, it was the sudden reappearance of family.
Iona was forced to stand guard at the funeral in an awkward position—neither a true member of the bereaved family, nor a mere guest.
Naturally, she couldn’t even take part in the all-night prayers that the Emperor’s relatives performed.
The Empress, feigning regret as if it were some terrible misfortune, clasped Iona’s hands and apologized for excluding her. To Iona, who had never once intended to stay up through the night in prayer for the Emperor, the entire display felt laughable.
In any case, the Empress succeeded in keeping up appearances while neatly pushing Iona out of the family circle.
It was a skillful performance, almost admirable—if not for one more obstacle still standing in her way.
The Archduke.
The Archduke’s arrival came on the day the Emperor’s body was carried out for burial.
Every person present widened their eyes in disbelief when they saw his face.
And with reason—Archduke Ernst had not set foot in the capital for well over a decade.
The last time he had returned was when his sister died, so in truth this visit wasn’t all that strange.
After all, death was the sort of thing that could call even a brother living far away to return home in an instant. At least, in most cases.
“Archduke Ernst.”
The Empress, startled, moved quickly toward him.
Her appearance had hardly changed compared to before.
She had always dressed in clothes that resembled mourning attire, so there was no need for her to seek out new garments.
Her mask, too, was unchanged.
Instead of blurting something meaningless like “What brings you here…”, the Empress maintained her composure and began with words of thanks.
“I’m glad the news reached you so swiftly. Thank you for coming all this way.”
“My brother has passed. Of course I had to come.”
The Archduke replied as he stepped aside, revealing the son standing behind him.
“This is my son, Walter. Walter, greet Her Majesty the Empress—your aunt.”
Walter stepped forward and offered his respects.
Not long freed from his kidnapping, faint traces of injuries still lingered on his face.
The Empress studied those marks closely before speaking.
“It seems your son has grown into a fine warrior, just like his father. It’s a shame such a handsome face bears scars, but surely they are proof of his diligence in training.”
“The North is a harsh land, plagued with constant battles. He received that scar in a fight against the Nant tribe.”
Hearing Walter’s reply, Iona felt a pang of awkwardness.
It was obvious that Walter was lying just to provoke the Empress. But the truth was—the one who had actually left that scar on Walter’s face was none other than Iona herself.
It had happened during the rough process of returning him safely to his father’s side.
And now, Iona found herself cast as the barbarian. She smoothly turned to a nearby noble and remarked,
“The North truly is a frightening place, isn’t it?”
The noble, never once suspecting her, nodded vigorously in agreement.
---The End Of The Chapter---
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