I couldn't understand how such a miracle could happen, but this situation really did somehow resolve itself.
Despite the fact that Erica had inflicted such an irreparable insult on the count's daughter, she still forgave her!
Of course, I doubted that she did it out of kindness of heart.
Even when Latina Mayer was leaving the orphanage, her reddened face still looked as if it were boiling with anger. And yet, for some unexpected reason, she still showed mercy.
Could the reason for that have been Amalia and her diplomatic skills?..
As expected, even if for now she had nothing, the female lead is still the female lead. Her innate talents are definitely different from those of ordinary people!
Meanwhile, the next day a major news publication of the empire published an article.
It was an article with a loud headline about how a certain red eyed child had attacked Count Mayer's daughter during her visit to the orphanage.
That was exactly how it was written!
Moreover, they even printed a close up photograph of Erica! And in the other photograph, of course, was the injured Latina.
Although usually newspaper headlines did not mention such trivial things as the eye or hair color of those involved, this time the reporters directly stated that the child aggressor had red eyes.
Yeah...
Thus, everything was presented as if Latina Mayer had been the victim, an angel in the flesh who cared for orphans from a pure heart. And Erica was presented as the aggressor who had suddenly attacked her without any reason.
Well... essentially, that was how it was.
But nevertheless, I was still angry!
Who would like it when their friend is shown to the whole empire in such an unsightly light?!
Moreover, they put Erica's photograph on the front page and didn't even blur out her face! What is that even called? Did this world not have any ethical rules for the press?
In any case, most of all in this situation I was now worried precisely about Erica's psychological state.
The next day, when we were sitting at breakfast in the dining hall, I very carefully asked her:
"Erica... you're not too upset, are you?"
Nevertheless, the girl frowned, as if she didn't even understand what I meant.
"What should I be upset about?"
I fell into a stupor.
"Well... Your face was printed in the newspaper. And they also wrote unpleasant things about you..."
When I carefully said this, Erica only snorted indifferently.
"So what?"
"What do you mean, 'so what'?" I was puzzled. "Do you really not care at all?!"
Erica paused as she poked without much interest at her plate of oatmeal.
"Let them write whatever they want," she shrugged. "I don't read newspapers anyway, so I don't care."
I couldn't believe my ears.
And this was the reaction of a person whose face had been printed without permission across the whole empire? And about whom far from the most positive things had been written?
Yeah... what composure.
Well, I can only envy that.
But meanwhile, Erica still refused to answer my main question, which I had asked her yesterday.
"Erica... You still haven't told me why you did it?"
"..."
"Do you even understand that we only barely managed to avoid disaster by a miracle?" I protested. "For insulting an aristocrat, you could have been executed!"
Nevertheless, even after hearing the word "executed," the girl did not show much reaction.
"That girl just pissed me off..." she muttered irritably. "That's all. I didn't even do anything to her! Why make such a fuss over a trifle?"
A trifle?
I couldn't believe it.
In Erica's opinion, pouring a bucket of dirty water on an aristocrat was a trifle?
Amazed by such thinking from the girl, I could only sigh heavily.
And still, how immature she was...
It was probably truly lucky that by origin Erica was still the daughter of an aristocrat. After all, otherwise, if she had really been an ordinary commoner with such a mindset, she definitely would not have lived long.
"Fine... as you wish."
I wanted to scold Erica a little more for her behavior, but I didn't have the strength for it.
In the end, the main thing was that the situation had still resolved safely, right? So all that remained was to be glad about it.
After all, Erica was still a child. I only hoped that she would become more responsible when she grew up.
Having decided to put an end to it there, I sighed and continued eating my tasteless oatmeal.
***
In a room where there was not a single ray of light, a gloomy atmosphere reigned.
This atmosphere was radically different from the bright morning outside.
"It seems we caught another rat."
Walking around a puddle of blood, the man frowned and looked around. A piece of meat was tied to a chair in the center of the room, and it was hard to tell what it was. Blood oozed from it, flooding the floor.
Meanwhile, another man also lay on the floor, unable to make a sound, bound hand and foot.
"My lord."
The servant who had been in the shadow of the room came out and respectfully bowed before the man who had entered the room.
"Good morning, Pyotr. As I understand it, the day did not begin with a cup of coffee?"
"Unlike you, my lord, my day always begins the same way."
The man with red eyes, which frighteningly glittered in the darkness, chuckled without mirth.
"From what I see, this morning is no different either."
The man frowned slightly when he shifted his gaze to the corpse chained to the chair that had been here since yesterday.
"Then we'll do everything as usual."
"Yes."
When the man said this, he made a gesture, and all the soldiers in the dungeon immediately dropped the instruments of torture and stood at attention.
Although the cell was filled with the stench of blood, this man with red eyes was neat and impeccable. Crossing his arms, he said lazily:
"As you can see, your friend is currently in a rather pitiful state."
The man said this, addressing first of all the one who was lying on the floor now. The man pushed his body with the toe of his boot, as if playing with an insect.
"..."
Nevertheless, even though there was no gag in his mouth, the lacerated prisoner did not utter a sound.
"Perhaps you've noticed that he isn't even breathing anymore?"
"..."
"No matter how you look at it, repeating his fate would be rather unpleasant."
Pyotr risked a quick glance at his lord. Fortunately, the man seemed to be in an excellent mood. The cup of coffee this morning must have been good, and the deal for the supply of a new batch of intoxicating herb had also gone successfully. At least, for a person like him, this really meant a good morning.
But for Pyotr and the other soldiers, this meant only one thing.
At least, after all this, they would have to wipe away not that much blood.
The man carelessly looked at the bloodied prisoner before him.
Now they only had to decide what to do with this worm.
Although... there wasn't really much to decide here.
The man lying on the floor radiated incredible strength of spirit, which in no way corresponded to the image of a lone prisoner who had fallen into the enemy's lair.
Even when he was captured and thrown into this dungeon, to the end he threw glances full of hatred at the soldiers of the Blackwell family. His murderous gaze could make anyone shudder.
But, of course, this did not apply to the man who was now towering over him.
Marquis Blackwell watched this, and a smile slowly played on his lips. It was such a beautiful expression that it could not help but attract attention.
"The loyal knight of the Sirinix family, Sir Diego, correct? I'm sorry. As a host, I should have provided guest service at a higher level."
The marquis spoke softly, as if offering him tea.
"Maybe we should sit down and talk?"
Having removed the defiled remains from the previous session, a piece of meat barely hanging from the chair, the soldiers replaced it with this man.
"If Aziel wants to make friends with me so much, he could express his wishes more directly. Why keep sending his intermediaries to me all the time?"
The marquis sighed in disappointment. Nevertheless, even though he slowly approached him, the noble knight tied to the chair still did not show a drop of fear. In his eyes there was only hatred.
"Sir Diego, do you really not want to tell me anything? Maybe you would still be interested in living until tomorrow morning?"
And at that moment the man, who until then had only been silent, with his last strength parted his lips and spat out blood.
"Never... never will the beasts of the Blackwell clan get their way!"
The marquis merely watched him lazily, allowing him to continue.
"Sooner or later... you will all be destroyed!" he shouted. "My lord will not allow you to do evil in this empire any longer!"
Marquis Blackwell looked at the man tied to the chair and sighed.
"Well then."
The blade flashed.
"That conversation was rather short."
A moment later the knight tied to the chair was already dead. His corpse was now no different from his predecessor, who had been thrown out a little earlier. The head of the Blackwell clan sighed and wiped his bloodied hands.
"If that's all for today, then I'm off."
He had become bored and lost interest.
"My lord..."
But the assistant unexpectedly called him.
"What is it?" Victor Blackwell frowned slightly.
"Actually... I also wanted to show you something."
In the next moment Pyotr took out a thing that the marquis definitely did not expect to see in this place.
It was a newspaper.
"Why are you giving me this?" his red eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"Take a look... I think you will find this interesting."