Chapter 65

The luxurious door of Michael’s private dressing room swung open without so much as a knock.

“Your Majesty!”

“P-Princess! His Majesty is not yet—”

“Princess Giselle!”

Giselle entered the room with a gust of wind that swept in through the roughly opened door. Behind her stood attendants with flustered expressions, unable to stop her. The same astonished gazes from Michael’s attendants turned toward Giselle. 

Michael, who had been fastening the buttons of his vest over a white shirt with the help of an attendant, also directed his gaze toward his younger sister. Despite her dramatic entrance, Giselle stood in the dressing room with a stern expression, her hands neatly clasped as she bowed her head toward Michael.

Late, much later than I expected.

Michael, having a rough idea of why Giselle had come, raised his hand. It was a signal for everyone to leave the room. Once the attendants vacated the space, Michael began fastening his cufflinks himself as he spoke.

“What kind of behavior is this, Princess? Acting so improperly.”

Only then did Giselle lift her head. Her crimson eyes glared disapprovingly at Michael’s every move. His tailored formal trousers fit his slender yet solid frame perfectly, and his polished black shoes gleamed. 

Soon, Giselle spoke in a sulky tone.

“You already know why I’m here, don’t you, Brother?”

Of course, he knew. Michael leaned against the window with an ambiguous expression. Since sending Charlotte away, he had been buried under a mountain of documents that seemed to arrive as if on cue, and now he was preparing to attend the Senate to discuss policy directions.

A fleeting trace of fatigue crossed Michael’s face, which usually carried an air of crisp clarity.

“How could you—how could you think of placing a spy on me!”

Giselle’s trembling voice emanated from her pale, almost ghostly face. It had been a day since Malena was taken to Michael. She didn’t know if the interrogation had started or how far the investigation into her had progressed, but for now, she had to feign ignorance. Rather than pretending to know about Malena, she had to respond with a different reason.

Michael replied indifferently.

“It was nearly a dangerous situation.”

“Brother!”

He was about to add that the situation had almost provided Erhen with evidence to confirm his suspicions about her. Giselle bit her lip. She couldn’t tell how much her brother had uncovered.

“Are you absolutely certain that she was just an ordinary maid?”

Michael’s firm question caused Giselle to clench her fists. Fortunately, Michael didn’t completely distrust her yet. She still had some use to Kopenbach within the palace. 

For now, she needed to prove her innocence rather than worry about Malena, who had already been captured.

“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t know?”

“Don’t get emotional. That won’t solve anything.”

Michael narrowed his eyes. From what Giselle said, there was no evidence of any issues in the process of hiring Malena, who had disguised herself as Petra. On the surface, there was nothing strange about Giselle’s trust in Malena. Yet, the unease he felt—what could it be?

At Michael’s cold response, Giselle cried out indignantly.

“Emotional? You’re calling me emotional? Do you remember what you said when I begged you to let me marry the Duke of Rosenheim? You told me not to use my position as an excuse to take things easily. You said that not desiring anything and yielding everything was a virtue of being a princess!”

Michael hesitated, startled by Giselle’s outburst as she clenched her fists and shouted in frustration. Tears, as large as ruby drops, began to fall from her crimson eyes.

“And I’ve endured it all! I’ve lived without wanting anything, giving up everything, and yet all I get in return is suspicion? Why? Is it because I’m Rufus’s daughter?”

“Giselle!”

Michael raised his voice, shocked to hear that Giselle herself was aware of the secret he had tried so hard to keep from her. All his efforts to conceal the truth had been in vain, and the revelation had only festered in Giselle’s heart.

Rendered speechless, Michael stared at Giselle, who wiped away her tears with gloved hands and let out a bitter laugh.

“I’ve known since I was in the Grand Duke’s household. Even though I thought I should leave the moment I found out, I stayed because I loved Mother and you so much. That’s why I shamelessly followed you all the way here.”

Michael swallowed a sigh at her tearful confession and stood up. Although he pretended to draw a line between public and private matters in front of his sister, he was nothing but a brother who was helplessly weak when it came to her. Approaching Giselle, Michael spoke in a softer tone.

“No, Giselle. It doesn’t matter who your father is. You’ll always be my precious little sister. That’s an unchanging truth.”

“Sniff… Sob.”

Taking the opportunity, Giselle began to cry loudly. Now that Michael had shown signs of wavering, she had to drive the point home.

“The head maid was not meant to spy on you but to protect you. If it made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”

Giselle cried so heartbreakingly that Michael couldn’t bring himself to ask the most important question weighing on his mind.

How did you know about the Duke of Rosenheim’s attack? No matter how much I investigate, there’s no way you could have known.

Yet, looking at Giselle, who still seemed like a child in his eyes, Michael could only close his eyes to the unresolved doubts.

***

“Ah.”

Philip quickly darted forward. What he hastily bent down to pick up was a brooch with a delicate lily-of-the-valley design. Decorated with pearls and silver, it was the one Erhen always pinned to his jacket lapel.

Philip handed the brooch back to Erhen.

“The clasp came loose. Shall I order it to be repaired?”

Erhen silently picked up the brooch.

“‘It means you’ll surely find happiness.’ That’s the flower language of the lily-of-the-valley.”

It was Charlotte, who had handed him the brooch with a pout, saying it was his birthday and she should at least give him something. She had added that they needed to do this much to avoid suspicion as a married couple.

It was amusing and endearing, so he had replied like this:

“Then how about you pin it on yourself?”

“What? Don’t you have hands or feet, Marquis? Just take it quickly before the servants see!”

Charlotte had been startled and snapped in a small voice. Her flustered face, looking up at him with indignant eyes, was amusing. If this was a birthday gift, it was far more valuable. Erhen had teased her a little more.

“This much effort should strengthen our bond, don’t you think?”

In hindsight, it wasn’t entirely wrong. Charlotte bit her lip and approached Erhen.

This time, it was Erhen who was flustered.

The scent wafting from Charlotte as she fumbled to pin the brooch on him was intoxicating. Overwhelmed by the unfamiliar sensation, Erhen unconsciously held his breath.

“Done!”

“……”

“Hmm? What’s with that face? I went through all that trouble, and you’re making that expression?”

Charlotte grumbled at Erhen’s silent reaction. As she took a step back, Erhen finally regained his composure and stammered.

“No, it’s nothing.”

“Seriously. I thought I’d pierced your skin or something.”

Unaware of Erhen’s awkward reaction, Charlotte let out a relieved sigh and candidly expressed her thoughts. Having successfully completed her task, she clasped her hands behind her back and flashed him a bright smile.

“Anyway, happy birthday, Erhen.”

…Memories so cruelly vivid resurfaced.

Erhen, his expression blank, gazed at the brooch in his hand before handing it back to Philip.

“Put it away in the drawer.”

“Pardon? Oh, yes.”

Philip awkwardly accepted the brooch.

Erhen resumed walking, and Philip was about to follow when a voice called out to him. Turning around, he saw the head butler, Liam.

“Ah, Liam.”

“I have something to discuss regarding His Grace.”

Before Liam could continue, Danielle appeared, having finished her meal. Instead of continuing their conversation, they turned to greet the young Lady of Rosenheim approaching them.

“Good morning, Miss.”

“Did you enjoy your meal?”

Danielle responded cheerfully with a bright “Yes!” Contrary to their expectations, she stopped and looked at Philip.

“Uncle Philip is here too. That means Uncle must have come as well, right?”

“Yes, he just arrived and went straight to the bath.”

“Didn’t he eat breakfast?”

“No, he said he’d rest briefly before heading out later.”

“Again?”

Danielle frowned and crossed her arms, tilting her head. She tapped her right foot and murmured with a meaningful look.

“Strange. The atmosphere in the house is weird, and Uncle feels like he’s obsessed with work again, just like last year.”

Then, she turned and trotted back to her room.

Philip and Liam exchanged awkward smiles as they watched the unpredictable seven-year-old disappear down the hallway. Once Danielle’s figure faded, their expressions turned serious again.

“Sir Liam, what is it you wanted to tell me…?”

Philip’s voice trailed off, sensing the gravity of the situation.

Since parting ways with Charlotte, Erhen had seemed slightly off, but he was still the same Duke as last year. If that were all, Liam wouldn’t have sounded so grave.

As if confirming Philip’s concerns, Liam spoke in a worried tone.

“His Grace has started drinking.”

Even a single drink used to make him lose consciousness.