“You’ll need to keep your mouth shut about this for the rest of your life.”

“O-of course.”

Ruben answered with a trembling voice as Marcel fingered his knife. After quietly staring at him for a moment, Marcel disappeared outside the room. Once he was gone, Ruben collapsed into his seat with a sigh of relief.

“Yes, that’s done. Now I’m rich again!”

Ruben opened the pouch and caressed the gold coins with his hands, smiling faintly.

※※※

After receiving the fake letter, Marcel immediately mounted his horse and headed back to the capital. After riding for a long time, he was only able to reach the capital by evening. He went deep into the back alleys of the market district toward a place where he had previously commissioned a request. The deeper he went, the stronger the musty smell and the more dried filth clung to everything.

Knock, knock, knock, knock—

“Password?”

“Dawn is long.”

At Marcel’s answer, an old door creaked open. A man with a prosthetic leg smiled slyly upon seeing him.

“Right on time. It’s finished.”

This was where Marcel had commissioned a fake letter the previous night using Kayla’s letter. The man guided Marcel into the room.

“Did you imitate the handwriting exactly?”

“I copied it exactly like the letter the woman wrote. It’s similar. At least to ordinary people’s eyes, it will look real.”

The man limped as he handed over two letters. One was Kayla’s letter, and the other was a sophisticated forgery that mimicked it. Her handwriting was neat yet delicate.

—Mr. Ruben.

What happened that day will never disappear from my memory.

As you said, I will never speak about what happened between us.

And I won’t tell anyone in the future either.

Please burn this letter as soon as you read it.

Kayla.

Marcel nodded briefly with a short laugh.

“Good, you’ve done well again.”

He handed a pouch of gold coins to the man. Then he put the letters in his coat and left the room.

※※※

The next morning, at the Vilrose comital residence in the capital of the Empire.

Count Vilrose was a relative of Marchioness Rosehill and belonged to one of the influential noble families. He was a man of great greed and ambition. He was particularly obsessed with materials that could expose political weaknesses. While he was looking out the window as his morning sleep was interrupted by tea, a servant came with an envelope.

“What’s this?”

“I’m not sure. It’s an anonymous letter.”

“Hmm…”

Count Vilrose opened the envelope with suspicious eyes. Inside were two letters. He unfolded the papers and read through them.

“What is this?”

The Count’s expression changed after reading the first letter. The fact that she knew about Grenville’s crimes and remained silent, and Kayla’s name. The Count hurriedly read through the other letter. His eyes moved quickly following the writing. The second letter contained Ruben’s signature. The Count held his breath.

“If this is true… did that woman really pretend not to know? Are the rumors true?”

If the contents of the letter were true, the situation would change. The Count pondered for a moment, stroking his chin.

“How to use this will soon be decided. I need to meet Clara.”

He pressed his forehead and laughed quietly.

“So the Grand Duchess will come from the Rosehill family after all, hahaha!”

※※※

Late afternoon, at the Rosehill residence.

Marchioness Rosehill was holding a teacup and looking out at the garden through the window. The shadows of roses were swaying long. Just then, a servant approached and quietly whispered.

“Madam, Count Vilrose has arrived. He wishes to see you privately.”

The Marchioness narrowed her eyes and said.

“Now? There was no notice… Very well, show him to the reception room.”

Not long after, Count Vilrose entered the reception room wearing a military-style coat. The Marchioness tried to pour tea, but he raised his hand to stop her.

“No need, Marchioness. I’ve come today to tell you something important.”

“What is it?”

At Vilrose’s signal, all the servants withdrew from the reception room. The now quiet reception room was tense with an inexplicable tension. Vilrose took out two pieces of paper from his inner pocket.

“What… is this?”

“These are letters left by someone involved with Baron Grenville. See for yourself.”

Vilrose handed the letters to the Marchioness. She carefully unfolded the paper. A familiar name was clearly written. As she read, her pupils trembled slightly.

“… This could be fabricated.”

“Then we could open a formal trial and verify Kayla’s handwriting.”

The moonlight shone quietly in the night sky. Count Vilrose finished speaking and slowly picked up his cup.

“Why… are you showing this to me?”

He answered with a slight curl of his lips.

“This letter is our weapon. No matter how much His Highness the Grand Duke shelters her, the legitimacy of the Grand Duchess will crumble with just this suspicion.”

The Marchioness couldn’t say anything as she looked down at the letter again. Vilrose took a sip of tea and continued.

“Shouldn’t your daughter… Frea, who has legitimacy, become the Grand Duchess?”

The Marchioness’s fingertips trembled ever so slightly.

“His Highness’s heart was so stubborn that we couldn’t shake his decision. But if this letter is true, that girl is just as guilty. If this matter is buried, how will history judge the Rosehill family in the future…”

His words carried thorns. After a moment, Clara spoke in a cold voice.

“I’ll formally request a noble trial.”

Count Vilrose’s lips curled up slightly.

“If you’ve made your decision, a trial will be held soon.”

Left alone after Count Vilrose departed, the Marchioness looked up at the sky. She still recalled Theodore’s resolute gaze. But more than that, Frea’s tears lingered before her eyes.

‘So the rumors were true…’

She muttered.

“Everything must be revealed. That girl is not qualified to be the Grand Duchess.”

The next day, late morning. A letter arrived for Theodore while he was working in the grand ducal residence’s study.

“Your Highness, an official letter has arrived…”

William carefully spoke up. Theodore asked without taking his eyes off the documents.

“What kind of letter?”

“It’s from the Noble Council. A formal trial request has been filed under the name of Marchioness Rosehill.”

The pen in Theodore’s hand fell to the floor. A cold silence hung in the room. He closed his eyes briefly before slowly speaking.

“… So they’ve resorted to this tactic.”

Theodore quickly read through the letter.

※※※

At the same time, Kayla was turning pages in a book inside the greenhouse. Martha approached carefully and handed her a letter.

“Miss, a letter…”

“For me?”

Kayla opened the seal with puzzlement and read through it. It was a letter informing her of the noble trial. She bit her lip while trying to steady her trembling hand. Just then, Theodore opened the greenhouse door. Kayla couldn’t turn her head and just clutched the letter.

“Did you hear?”

“… Yes, I heard.”

Theodore approached and sat in front of her. Then he wrapped one hand around hers.

“I’m sorry you have to be hurt again.”

“Don’t say that, Theo. This is my responsibility. From the moment I reported it…”

Theodore shook his head and gripped her hand tighter.

“No, you’ve been bearing everything alone until now. But this time, it’s my turn to protect you.”

“……”

Theodore wiped away the tears forming in her eyes and said.

“I’ll prove that you’re innocent, that you tried to uphold the truth.”

Kayla looked at him with difficulty and said.

“The evidence has already been fabricated. How can you…”

“That’s why I’m going to take action.”

Theodore looked at her with determined eyes.

“If evidence was created, there must be gaps.”

※※※

That night, Theodore was reviewing all the evidence collected when Baron Grenville was arrested. William, who was organizing the documents, spoke up.

“How do you know which of these people is the false witness?”

“Father sent me the letter that was accepted as evidence.”

“Then…!”

“Yes, Ruben Darka wrote a false letter. He fabricated it to look like he exchanged it with Kayla.”

Anger flashed across William’s usually gentle face.

“I understand. I’ll focus the review on this Ruben Darka person.”

“Yes, please do.”

In the silence, only the sound of turning papers filled the room. Then suddenly:

“Your Highness, I found Ruben Darka’s name!”

“Any record of slave trade documents?”

“Nothing in the official documents. It exists as a vague record called ‘inland goods movement record.'”

Theodore stopped his finger on one document. A handwritten warehouse list with a signature next to it.

“The handwriting matches the evidence. Ruben Darka wrote the fake letter himself.”

“What should we do? It will be difficult to find him.”

Theodore put down the paper and fell into thought.

“It would be faster to prove that Kayla’s letter is fake.”

Theodore brought Kayla’s book and opened it. Inside were dense notes she had written while studying. He carefully compared her handwriting with the fake letter.

“… The handwriting is different.”

“Pardon?”

“Here, the way the K ends and the curve of the y are subtly different.”

William moved closer to Theodore’s side to check together.

“Indeed…!”