“Elena, is something wrong?”
I stared at Grand Duke Richard in disbelief. The soup he'd so confidently praised as delicious was outrageously sour.
Just then, I thought I saw the corners of Mrs. Verona's mouth twitch ever so slightly. I tilted my head, puzzled.
“N-no. I'm fine. Don't worry about me.”
I couldn't bring myself to criticize the cooking of the woman who had raised him. Perhaps our tastes were simply different, I reasoned, and took a bite of another dish.
“……!”
An unbelievably intense bitterness flooded my mouth.
Fighting back tears, I forced myself to swallow.
What amazed me was that the Grand Duke was calmly polishing off every dish without the slightest sign of displeasure.
Could the war have left him with some kind of nerve damage that's numbed his entire body?
In the end, dinner concluded with me having barely eaten anything.
Mrs. Verona volunteered to escort me all the way to my room. I was looking around the Grand Duchess's dim, shabby bedroom with a troubled expression when—
“Hah!”
A sharp, derisive laugh came from behind me.
Startled, I spun around. The woman's face had twisted into a vicious expression, and she was glaring at me with blazing eyes.
“Mrs. Verona…?”
I addressed her cautiously, taking an instinctive step backward as an inexplicable chill ran down my spine.
Suddenly, I remembered that she had once worked at the Imperial Palace.
Don't tell me…
One corner of Mrs. Verona's mouth slowly curled upward.
Creeeak.
She locked the bedroom door from the inside, then began approaching me, one deliberate step at a time.
I'd been aware for some time that people connected to the Imperial Palace were following me. Could Mrs. Verona have been bought off by the Crown Prince?
“Mrs. Verona? What exactly do you think you're doing? This is highly inappropriate.”
Even as I reprimanded her, my eyes darted around the room, searching for anything I could use as a weapon.
Would that rusty candlestick on the table be enough to defend myself?
I was weighing my chances when Mrs. Verona reached behind her waist.
Instinctively, I snatched up the candlestick.
At that very moment—
With a loud crumpling sound, Mrs. Verona pulled something from her waistband and thrust it in front of my face.
“This isn't true, is it?”
It was a badly crumpled copy of the special feature in Lady Aria.
I blinked in confusion.
“Pardon…?”
“What have you done to our darling young Master Benny?”
“……?”
Surely “darling young Master Benny” couldn't be referring to Benedict Richard.
The absurd combination of words made my brows draw together involuntarily. There wasn't a single thing about the Grand Duke's enormous frame that anyone could reasonably describe as darling or cute.
“Our young master would never say things like this!”
Beneath her fingers, the nauseatingly sweet lines claiming that the Grand Duke called me “my love” and “my darling baby” were being mercilessly crushed.
I flinched and took another step backward.
As expected of the woman who had raised him, she'd seen straight through the lies.
“Our young master has a warmer heart than anyone, but when it comes to expressing his feelings, he's as barren and cold as a frozen wasteland!”
Is that supposed to be a compliment or an insult?
I frowned, trying to work out what Mrs. Verona was getting at.
Her eyes suddenly narrowed.
“You must have used some kind of trick on him. That pale face! That shimmering golden hair! You're an evil spirit that bewitches people and devours them, aren't you?”
With that accusation, she reached into her apron and flung a mysterious brown powder at me.
“Cough! Cough!”
The powder caught in my throat, making me cough as a pungent cinnamon scent assaulted my nose.
Before I knew it, Mrs. Verona was vigorously shaking a silver bell in her hand.
“You'll soon cease to exist! I mixed hawthorn berries and powdered mistletoe wood into your food earlier!”
“…….”
I could only stand there, dumbfounded, watching this enthusiastic display of shamanism.
No wonder everything had tasted so sour and bitter.
Apparently, I'd been undergoing an exorcism since the moment dinner began.
The realization that her attacks were completely harmless made all the tension drain out of me.
With a thoroughly unenthusiastic motion, I brushed the cinnamon powder from my hair.
“Mrs. Verona, unless you're planning to serve me for dessert, I'd appreciate it if you refrained from adding any more seasoning.”
Despite having poured her heart and soul into the exorcism, I appeared entirely unaffected.
Now Mrs. Verona was the one panicking.
“D-don't tell me the young master actually said those things of his own free will!”
Strictly speaking, she wasn't wrong. The Grand Duke hadn't actually said any of those things.
He had, however, agreed to our Contract while perfectly sound of mind.
I smiled serenely.
“Of course he did. Everything in the article is true.”
Mrs. Verona's hands, clutching her apron tightly, began to tremble.
A moment later, she looked ready to burst into tears.
“A commoner! A commoner as our young master's wife! Such a handsome, brave, dignified, and serious gentleman! If only he hadn't gotten caught up in that dreadful scandal, he could have married a wife worthy of him! Boo-hoo!”
She dissolved into miserable sobs, repeatedly dabbing her eyes with her apron.
Watching her, I scratched the bridge of my nose.
And who does she think got him out of that dreadful scandal?
I answered indifferently.
“His Highness the Crown Prince married a commoner, too. Apparently, falling for commoners runs in the family.”
“H-how dare you drag Her Highness the Crown Princess into this! Y-you… you insolent little…!”
“But Mrs. Verona.”
I cut her off, raising my eyes sharply.
The sudden change in my expression made her flinch. The silver bell in her hand gave a faint jingle.
“I may have been born a commoner, but I am now Grand Duchess Richard, and you are the head maid of the Grand Duke's residence. Your conduct since entering this room has been extraordinarily inappropriate. So tell me, which of us is being insolent?”
“……!”
“You've contaminated your mistress's food, dirtied her person, threatened her, verbally abused her, and insulted her.”
Suddenly confronted with the reality of her situation, Mrs. Verona turned deathly pale and began trembling.
Listing her exorcism rituals one by one made them sound like a collection of terribly serious offenses.
I glanced down at her.
Some time had passed since we'd entered the room. If everything went according to plan, Mrs. Verona would soon find herself in even greater trouble.
Thump! Thump!
Right on cue, the opening notes of her impending disaster sounded.
Mrs. Verona froze at the knocking behind her.
When no one answered, a puzzled voice came from the other side of the door.
“Elena? Are you asleep?”
“……!”
It was Grand Duke Richard.
As part of our training in how to behave like a married couple, I'd instructed him to visit my bedroom every night for the time being.
The real purpose was to investigate the murder, of course, but as far as everyone else was concerned, we needed to look like newlyweds still burning with passion.
Mrs. Verona, who knew nothing of this arrangement, stared at me helplessly.
I gave her a meaningful smile.
“It seems His Grace has come looking for me. Naturally, you understand what that means, don't you?”
Mrs. Verona's face turned an even more alarming shade of white.
After all, she was about to be caught mistreating the Grand Duchess.
While she squeezed her eyes shut, I reached past her and unlocked the door myself.
Click.
“Oh, Your Grace. You're here.”
“Mrs. Verona? You've been in here all this time? And… what's that smell?”
As the Grand Duke entered the room, he wrinkled his brow slightly at the pungent odor and looked toward Mrs. Verona.
He also seemed puzzled that she was still in my bedroom.
Since Mrs. Verona could do nothing but lower her head in silence, I promptly answered for her.
“Oh, that's cinnamon. Actually, Mrs. Verona was just—”
Although ours was a contractual relationship, Elena Richard was, at least outwardly, the Grand Duchess.
No matter how long Mrs. Verona had served as the Grand Duke's wet nurse, if I formally accused her of misconduct, he would have little choice but to punish her.
She seemed to have already resigned herself to some terrible punishment. Her hands were clasped tightly together, and her entire body was shaking.
I smiled faintly and continued.
“—recommending cinnamon tea. She said it would help me sleep. Isn't she thoughtful?”
“……!”
Mrs. Verona's head shot up.
She stared at me in utter bewilderment.
I gave her a quick wink.
The reason I hadn't told the Grand Duke what had really happened was simple: I'd decided Mrs. Verona would be more useful as an ally than as someone to be dismissed.
Whatever else could be said about her, she clearly cared deeply for the Grand Duke.
Admittedly, she'd done something utterly ridiculous to me, but that also meant she was prepared to do just about anything for his sake.
Someday, that devotion might prove extremely useful.
“His Grace is here now, Mrs. Verona. You may retire.”
“Y-yes. Yes, my lady.”
Still looking thoroughly bewildered, Mrs. Verona bowed her head and hurried out of the room.
The Grand Duke watched her retreating figure with a puzzled expression for a moment before turning back to me.
“So what are we doing now?”
“Finding the real murderer of Baron Devon Hayden. Our first step is identifying the suspects.”
I gestured for him to take a seat.
He settled onto the sofa and regarded me skeptically.
“So far, the Police Bureau has identified only one suspect. Me.”
“Which is precisely why we need to find the others. Let's start by carefully going over everything that happened that day.”
I continued in a measured voice, prompting him to revisit his memories.
“There was a banquet at Baron Hayden's estate to celebrate his successful trade dealings with the Kingdom of Grace. You were invited and attended.”
“Yes. Reluctantly.”
He nodded.
“When the Baron was found murdered, you were standing beside his body, covered in blood.”
“…….”
His expression tightened slightly, as though the memory had come back to him.
I began slowly pacing near the sofa where he sat, continuing my questions.
“Why would the Baron, as the host of the banquet, leave the reception hall halfway through the celebration and go out into the garden?”
“I'm not sure…”
His expression wavered ever so slightly at my question.
I caught that fleeting change and immediately pressed on.
“All right. Let me put it another way.”
I stopped pacing.
Then I looked him straight in the eye.
“Your Grace, why did you leave the banquet hall and go out into the garden at that exact same time?”