There were three main ways in which noblewomen could gather information.

The first was through family members, such as husbands, siblings or parents.

However, this was not an option for Ariana; that avenue had long been closed to her.

The second way was through social gatherings and personal connections.

This avenue was also out of her reach.

‘Everyone avoids me.’

First, the imperial family rejected her. Now, they despised her so much that hardly anyone dared to be seen with her.

Given her reputation, it was unthinkable that she could attend salons or soirées with ease or comfort.

Reading newspapers and other publications was all she could do.

‘But I’m not even allowed to read the papers. They’re watching me too closely.’

Ariana glanced sideways at the escorts seated two rows behind her.

They sat in reverent silence, some with their faces covered by veils.

But their stiff posture and alert eyes gave them away.

They were watching her.

‘They’ll report everything I see and do directly to Kenneth.’

Ever since he had returned to power, he had become obsessively controlling.

It was as if he were convinced that the runaway crown prince might try to contact her.

She still couldn’t fathom what was going on inside his head.

Whatever the case, one thing was clear.

She had been completely cut off from ‘useful information’.

‘That’s why I have no choice but to come to this cathedral.’

After prayer, people in Cremisa would commonly gather in the lounge. They would converse quietly in small groups scattered throughout the room.

No matter how strict the Empire’s social hierarchy was, few dared to divide themselves in a sacred place.

Perhaps this was out of fear that even a hint of arrogance in the house of God would condemn them to a life of torment after death.

“A ball is scheduled to take place soon at the public assembly hall.”

Apparently, the quality of work at the Strass workshop isn’t what it used to be.

If you listen carefully, you might pick up some useful information.

Snippets that could prove valuable in the near future.

With her head bowed, Ariana stood still as if in prayer, waiting patiently.

Then, amid the murmur of many voices, a few familiar names caught her attention.

“So, for the handicrafts initiative, the final contenders are Louan and Strogen. Do you think Louan stands a better chance this time?”

“No way. Strogen is the obvious winner — it’s been around forever. Louan’s proposal is still too underdeveloped.”

“Yeah, probably.”

The parishioners nodded to each other, convinced that Strogen was the better option, and filed out of the lounge.

But Ariana’s eyes gleamed at the name that had just been dismissed.

‘Louan… that’s a city in the Kingdom of Duvris.’

If she remembered correctly, this was the period during which Duvris had been actively promoting commerce and the arts.

He organised regional competitions to identify locations for new business ventures.

One of the finalists, Louan, stood out for a different reason.

‘Wasn’t that where the Marquis Damien Baptiste’s estate is located?’

A member of the royal family’s cadet branch, and, if she remembered right, one of Kenneth’s trade partners.

‘We didn’t speak much, but… he didn’t seem like a bad person.’

Tap, tap.

Unconsciously, Ariana found herself drumming her fingers on the armrest of the pew. After spending so many years under Kenneth’s leadership, she had picked up a few of his habits.

However, unlike his usual composure, she only did this when she was anxious.

‘Duvris is the kingdom closest to Cremisa, so it wouldn’t be hard to get there.’

The city that wins the competition will have plenty of new work opportunities. The promise of abundant work meant one crucial thing: that even an unidentified woman with a child could slip by unnoticed.

They could hide in the hustle and bustle of a thriving place.

Even more importantly, Louan was a foreign city. It was beyond the reach of both House Clifford and the Cremisa Empire.

‘But if I want to settle there, I’ll need to prepare ahead of time.’

Of all the skills Ariana had honed while tiptoeing around the Clifford household, her ability to read the ebb and flow of the economy was the most valuable.

She could recognise a good opportunity when she saw one. Above all, she knew how to seize a good opportunity before anyone else did.

Now that she had acquired a valuable lead, it was time to start planning her escape. She needed a place to hide. A life to rebuild.

Just then, however, a young nun approached her with a gentle smile and held out a donation box.

“Sister, today is the Feast of Saint Colette. Would you like to make a donation?”

“Yes, of course.”

Ariana hadn’t actually come to the central cathedral just to gather information.

‘I heard this place also runs the largest charitable foundation for the unemployed.’

After her brother destroyed the joint company with Kenneth, countless people lost their jobs and livelihoods.

Families fell apart, and despite Kenneth’s return it was impossible to save everyone affected.

Ariana knew that, however ignorant she may have been back then, as someone bearing the Aberdeen name, she couldn’t claim total innocence.

So she donated regularly, in amounts that wouldn’t arouse suspicion even if her ‘nobility maintenance fund’ was examined.

“Thank you, Sister. Then I’ll take my leave.”

“Ah, wait. Before you go, please sign your name in the donation registry.”

“Pardon? But—”

Ariana blinked in surprise at this unexpected request.

‘Isn’t that optional?’

But when the nun smiled again, looking both graceful and resolute, Ariana found herself unable to refuse.

Glancing around cautiously, she picked up the pen.

[Anne Clarke]

A name that came to mind quickly and harmlessly.

The nun’s smile deepened, and she took a step back with a nod.

“Thank you, Sister. May the Lord and Saint Colette’s blessings be with you.”

Ariana nodded politely in return.

Then she lifted her gaze to the crucifix hanging on the wall once more.

‘If Bibi died because of my ignorance… then please, I beg you—don’t be angry with me anymore. Please… protect my child.’

After offering an earnest prayer, Ariana turned her gaze towards the escorts who had accompanied her.

One of them, Emily, caught her eye in particular. The girl’s eyes sparkled with barely contained excitement and her cheeks were flushed pink.

Perhaps she hadn’t had many opportunities to stroll through the bustling city in broad daylight since arriving in the capital.

Leaving the cathedral only to return straight to the estate must have felt like such a waste.

“Shall we return to the manor now, Madam?”

There was a faint hint of reluctance in Emily’s voice.

Ariana smiled softly.

“Would you like to stay out a little longer?”

“Ah, no! I—I wouldn’t dare—”

“It’s all right. I’d like to stay out a little longer too. How about we have some tea together?”

“Gasp—yes, of course!”

To others, it might have sounded trivial, but for Ariana, it was the first time in a long while that she had felt a flicker of warmth, from someone who was genuinely pleased by her suggestion.

‘She’ll probably end up cursing me like everyone else, but for now… does it really matter?’

Nevertheless, before heading to the nearest teahouse, Ariana paused to look up at the sky. When she left the manor, the weather had been clear.

Now, however, it had begun to turn; the sky was slowly filling with gloomy grey clouds.

***

“She’s at the cathedral again today.”

Several days had passed since Kenneth had started harbouring vague suspicions about Ariana.

Now, seated in the capital office of one of his business branches, he listened blankly as his secretary reported, ‘She’s at the cathedral again today.’

“She’s expected to visit a tea house afterwards, then return home with her maid.”

‘What was she thinking?’

As if a criminal like her could gain anything from praying to God!

He despised being manipulated.

However, if there was even the slightest cause for concern, he wouldn’t be able to rest until he had confirmed it himself.

“Head to the central cathedral.”

‘What if she was planning to escape? Or secretly communicating with those still loyal to the Crown Prince?’

The mere possibility prickled his nerves.

Just as he was passing through the building’s corridor a light lilting voice greeted him, bright with amusement.

“Oh my! Did I arrive at just the right time?”

A woman with sleek black hair, elegantly adorned with a violet hat, let out a soft, graceful laugh.

It was Theodora Byron, the only daughter of Count Byron, who had come to see him in person.

Smoothing the hem of her stylish city coat with practised ease, she stepped through the business office as if it were her own drawing room.

“Kenneth, darling.”

She smiled, playfully scrunching her eyes in a charming display.

“Your fiancée has come all this way, and yet you greet me with such a cold expression?”

Kenneth barely spared her a glance. He replied in an indifferent tone.

“You take cradle-side jokes far too seriously.”

“Oh dear. So I’m the fool again for believing in childhood promises.”

“Innocence should end when the time is right.”

The so-called engagement she was referring to was nothing more than a joke between adults.

It was the kind of playful promise exchanged between noble families while their children were still in their cradles. But Theodora looked anything but amused—she seemed utterly unfazed, even triumphant.

“I know you expressed your deep gratitude to my father, but surely he’d be even more pleased if our families were bound together in marriage.”

“Your father’s ambition is something else.”

“He’s been unwell lately, so I came in his place.”

She replied breezily, smiling as she reached out a hand towards him.

It was a clear gesture — an unspoken request for an escort. But Kenneth, seemingly unaware, didn’t lift his arm.

Theodora’s smile twitched slightly at the corners, but she quickly composed herself.

‘How embarrassing… especially with the aides watching from behind.’

Ever since the incident at the opera house, Kenneth had become extremely averse to physical contact.

Whether someone touched him first or he offered his arm to a lady in a gesture of simple courtesy —it all made his skin crawl.

‘He was always on edge. Always on edge. As usual.’