TMRM 06

Chapter 6

“The heavens are truly indifferent.”

Whenever the servants of the Morata Ducal House gathered, they inevitably began talking about the Duke’s daughter and the Crown Prince.
They weren’t unusual in that regard—there was hardly anyone in the entire Empire of Stein who wasn’t talking about it.

“After all, the heavens made them meet as kin.”
“Indifferent? Please. If the late Empress hadn’t gone on that so-called ‘bastard hunt,’ none of these conflicts would have ever happened.”

One of the younger coachmen raised his voice.
He was a supporter of Prince Johannes—almost to the point of admiration.

“Well, that’s true. And think about it: Prince Samu’s maternal family is the royal house of Kartar, and Prince Johannes’s is the Duke of Magnum’s line. It’s no different than if a foreigner had nearly killed our own prince. In terms of bloodline legitimacy, doesn’t Prince Johannes have the stronger claim?”
“When you put it like that… I suppose you’re not wrong.”

Even among the servants, opinions were divided over who—Samu or Johann—should have ascended the throne.

“Yes, Her Majesty the late Empress was in the wrong. May God forgive her. But it’s not as if His Highness the Crown Prince should be the one to pay for it.”
“Exactly. You won’t find a man as kind as His Highness.”

The head maid nodded in agreement, and everyone else did the same.
Samu was a good man.
Despite his exalted birth—the highest rank in the empire—he had never once lost his temper.
In fact, he had even protected servants from the Duke’s wrath when the man lashed out.

Lady Anel was kind and gentle as well, but powerless.
Though she was well-liked, there wasn’t a single servant who truly relied on her.
Perhaps the opposite might be closer to the truth.

“Hey, Giselle.”
“Y-yes?”

The head maid called out to Giselle, who had been staring blankly into the air.

“How is the young lady these days? You’re the only one allowed in her room lately.”

Giselle had served as Lady Anel’s personal maid since childhood.
In truth, it was unheard of for a coachman’s youngest daughter to be given such an honor.
But the Duke of Morata had decided it was fate—Giselle had been born at the exact same hour on the exact same day as Anel.
It was he who gave her that refined name, “Giselle,” one fit for nobility.

“Even if she’s only a maid, I can’t have someone with a lowly name constantly by my daughter’s side.”

Since then, Giselle had become Anel’s closest companion—indispensable, inseparable.
At least, on the surface.

“She’s… not in good spirits.”
“She wouldn’t be. Poor thing—having to betray the fiancé she’s known since childhood.”

The head maid shook her head sorrowfully.
She had served the Duke for over thirty years and could say with certainty—he was a cruel man.

“How such a gentle young lady could have been born under that man… I’ll never understand. A miracle, truly. Poor girl.”
“…Well, I wouldn’t go so far as to call her poor.”

Giselle recalled the man who had entered her lady’s room uninvited not long ago.
She had never seen anyone like him before.
Many noblemen had passed through the Duke’s estate—from powerful lords to even the Crown Prince himself.

To Giselle, there could be no man above the Crown Prince.
Status, looks, temperament—he was flawless.
She had envied her lady all her life, not out of love for Samu or ambition for the throne, but out of jealousy for her good fortune.

But that man… he was different.

“Johannes Drenegger, the young duke.”

She turned his name over in her mind.
He was a shock to her system.
He had provoked her lady, unraveled her completely—and yet, Giselle couldn’t stop thinking about him.
There was something about him… something she couldn’t define.

“What did you say?”
“Nothing.”

The head maid, thinking she’d misheard, asked again.
But Giselle simply dusted crumbs off her apron and stood up.

“The young lady will be calling for me soon. I’ll go ahead.”

As Giselle hurried away, the other servants watched her go, puzzled for a moment.
Then, inevitably, they returned to their gossip.

“Anyway, they say His Majesty the Emperor can’t make any proper decisions with Lady Talips’ skirts in his face…”

A mere bedchamber maid like Giselle—pretty or not—wasn’t worth being the subject of conversation.

The bouquets sent to the Duke’s mansion began to dwindle.
At first, one arrived every three days.
That was when the headline read:

Prince Johannes Questions the Line of Succession.

It was horrifying. Every word of it.
But the worst part was the bouquet of violets that arrived that same day—along with a card.
As if it were the most natural thing in the world.
When it wasn’t, not at all.

My dearest Anel,

People say you and your father have betrayed me, but I refuse to believe it. I know the Duke’s house has always been loyal to the crown. I have not forgotten our bond of trust.

Please, take care of your health and distance yourself from all this noise.

With all my heart,
Samu.

Anel handed the bouquet to Giselle, keeping only the card close to her chest.
The faint scent of violets lingered in the air as she traced the petals—almost as if saying farewell.

“What shall I do with the flowers?”
Giselle asked, hiding her annoyance.

“Don’t throw them away… but I suppose we can’t plant them, can we?”
“That would be impossible, my lady. The roots are all cut.”
“Then perhaps you could take them?”
“The violets?”

Anel nodded weakly.

“It feels wrong to throw them out. They were a gift from His Highness.”
“Things like this aren’t even worth calling trash, my lady.”

Anel turned her head away sadly.
Giselle glanced at her, then tossed the bouquet aside.
What’s the point of making such a fuss when you’ll just throw them out anyway?

The bouquets grew rarer—once a week now.
And the headlines read:

Emperor Postpones Selection of Heir.

It was dreadful.

A bouquet of hyacinths came next, with a note:

My Anel,

I’ve heard a thousand times now that your illness drags on. The Duke refuses to meet with me. Are you well where you are? There is so much I want to ask, but I fear this letter will never reach you, so I will keep it short.

I need you. Never have I needed you more than in this moment.

With love,
Samu.

A letter that tore her heart apart.

Months passed before the next one.

Prince Samu Stripped of His Title as Crown Prince.

A bouquet of anemones, and a letter.

Anel,

I received two messages this morning—one from His Majesty, one from your father. We are no longer engaged.
Your illness, they say, makes it impossible to continue. I begged the Duke for one last meeting, but he refused.
This may be the last letter I ever send you.

Be happy.

Samu.

It was devastating.
And yet, Anel could not bring herself to resent him.
Her only regret was not being able to stay by his side.

Months passed again.
And then, she saw the headline she had dreaded most:

His Majesty the Emperor Dies.
Council Declares Johannes Drenegger the New Emperor.

“Move quickly!”

The head maid barked at the dawdling servants.
She had every reason to be irritable—the Duke had been exiled, and the Duke’s daughter was to marry the very man who had exiled her father.
And that man was now the Emperor.

It was a time when no one could afford to lose their wits.

“Poor young lady. For her sake, we mustn’t delay. The sooner she leaves this dreadful house, the better.”
“Going to the imperial palace doesn’t sound any less dreadful, if you ask me.”

One of the younger servants muttered, earning a hard flick on the forehead from the head maid.

“She has to go there anyway, so better to go quickly and settle in.”
“But what about us? With the Duke gone and the young lady gone too, this mansion will be empty.”
“The lady asked us to stay and guard it. She said our wages will continue as before. She’s thinking of us—she knows we’ve nowhere else to go.”

Whenever the head maid thought of Lady Anel, she would dab at her eyes with a handkerchief.
She wasn’t the only one.
The butler, too, would fight back tears whenever he stumbled upon the Duke’s belongings.
The whole estate was wrapped in grief.
The great pillar of Morata had fallen—felled by the very man who was to be his son-in-law.

“Still, why do you think the new Emperor had to… you know, get rid of the Duke?”
“Watch your mouth! ‘Get rid of’—what a dreadful thing to say! Lord forgive this foolish boy.”

The head maid paled, but the butler remained calm as he explained to the young servant.

“His Majesty must have thought the Duke a threat.”
“A threat?”
“Yes. Having overthrown Prince Samu to take the throne, His Majesty must still feel insecure. There are still many in the empire who support Prince Samu, after all. And the Duke was one of his strongest backers.”

“But he switched sides in the end, didn’t he?”
“And that’s precisely why he wasn’t trusted.”

The chef, chewing on a toothpick, joined in.

“Anyone who’s betrayed once can betray twice. That’s how they see it.”
“Watch your tongue when speaking of the Duke, Kun.”
“Yeah, yeah. Anyway—truth be told, it’s no surprise the Duke was purged politically. What is surprising is something else.”

Kun raised his finger toward the ceiling.

“The engagement wasn’t broken off! What kind of man exiles his fiancée’s father and still goes through with the marriage?”
“That’s because there’s no other lady like our mistress! It’s only natural!”
“Ha! With respect, but there are plenty of noble ladies out there.”
“None to compare with ours!”

The butler’s firm declaration didn’t impress the chef.
Humans were humans, after all.

If she hadn’t been born a duke’s daughter, would anyone have noticed her?
If she were just another bedchamber maid—like that Giselle walking by now—would the Emperor’s eyes have ever fallen on her?