Chapter 10
The door was still ajar, which meant the maid hadn’t come in yet.
Far beyond the window—
In the faintly lit dawn sky, where night’s darkness had not yet fully retreated, came the sounds of morning stirring awake.
Maia lowered the hand that had been covering her eyes.
“…Huh?”
In the middle of the sky dyed a deep violet, she saw a single dot, starkly out of place.
A bewildered voice escaped from her tightly sealed lips.
Squinting as she tried to make out the figure, Maia rose from bed.
With unsteady steps, she walked forward—each one closer to that dot, which steadily grew larger.
And when it finally revealed its identity, surprise spread across Maia’s face.
“Rihi?”
Goodness—
Even as she looked directly at it with her own two eyes, she couldn’t believe it.
It was the messenger bird she had sent to Rihi, returning to her.
The long-awaited, joyfully familiar bird landed lightly on the balcony railing.
“I didn’t expect a reply this soon…”
Maia, still in a daze, approached the bird, prompted by its insistent gaze urging her to take the letter.
Her heart trembled.
She didn’t know exactly what this feeling was.
A bolt from the blue—at this hour of the morning?
She reached toward the bird, but then paused.
Only now did she clearly see the bird’s appearance, which she hadn’t fully registered in her earlier surprise.
“…A branch?”
The paper tied to its leg was clearly a letter, but what puzzled her was the long branch the bird was clutching in its beak.
She had no idea what the meaning behind that was.
Maia removed the branch first and then untied the letter, unfolding it.
She couldn’t even begin to guess what it might contain. Her heart thudded so hard it felt like it might leap from her chest.
But contrary to her anxious expectations, the contents were rather anticlimactic.
It began with a sharp rebuke, mocking her for daring to write after two years of silence.
“She’s the one who left first…”
Maia couldn’t help but laugh at the unfiltered scolding.
Her gaze dropped lower.
In her earlier letter, she had briefly mentioned that married life hadn’t been easy, but she hadn’t used the word “divorce.”
Likewise, Rihi’s reply included no news about himself.
Just a brief inquiry about her well-being, some grumbling about how his life—past and future—remained tediously unchanged, and a rather harsh warning that there would be no second chances.
Finally, he mentioned that he had enclosed a token of memory, and hoped she would be pleased.
Maia picked up the “token of memory” Rihi had written about—the branch—and examined it closely.
The familiar shape of the leaves.
White blooms dotting the branch like delicate rice grains.
A fragrance sweeter than summer roses.
A soft smile bloomed across Maia’s pale face like a flower.
It was a hawthorn branch.
“Cough.”
A small cough escaped her. The winter dawn air was bitterly cold.
After gently patting her head a few times, Maia carefully gathered the owl-turned-statue, the branch, and the letter, and closed the window tight.
She tucked the letter safely into a drawer.
Then, she filled a vase with water and placed the hawthorn branch in it.
“……”
Maia quietly gazed at the flower vase on the windowsill, as if engraving the scene into her heart.
The dawning sky and the branch bearing pure white blossoms looked perfect together.
Because of Rihi’s unexpected reply and the surprise gift, the exhaustion and pain that had consumed her before gradually dissolved, becoming a distant blur.
Unaware of this change, Maia let a small smile curl her lips.
As expected, the Imperial Palace did not ignore the trial request made by the Duchess of Western.
After a week and two more days, the trial date finally arrived.
Maia handed over the neatly collected evidence to the imperial official who had come down from the palace.
And then, she headed to the dungeon to visit poor Mary Hauer.
“Ma’am!”
“Mary, are you alright? Are you uncomfortable anywhere?”
Although the head maid had confessed, the Duke of Western had made it clear that Hauer could not be released until a formal guilty verdict was passed.
So Maia came to the dungeon every day to check on Mary’s well-being.
The dungeon was located beneath the duke’s mansion. No sunlight reached it, and its cold, damp cells were brutal for someone of Hauer’s age.
Yet Hauer smiled brightly upon seeing Maia.
“Oh, I’m alright. Thanks to you, Ma’am, I’ve been treated much better. The food is better than when I was outside, even! And His Grace the Duke has also been very kind to me.”
Hauer glanced at Maia’s stiffened expression when she mentioned the Duke and added carefully,
“So please, Ma’am, don’t resent His Grace too much. I know it’s not my place to say so, but I truly believe His Grace loves you. At my age, it’s easy to tell such things just by looking. You two love each other. So—”
“Mrs. Hauer, I’m afraid I have things to attend to. I’ll head back now.”
Maia smiled gently. Hauer fell silent.
As Maia climbed the dungeon stairs, her face hardened with coldness.
Since the head maid had been imprisoned, the other maids no longer acted arrogantly in front of Maia.
She glanced briefly at the way they avoided her, then returned to her room and looked once more at the hawthorn branch—still fresh as ever, like some magic kept it from withering.
She approached the vase on the windowsill quietly.
With cautious fingers, she stroked the small white buds, afraid they might fall.
Tomorrow is the trial.
Will I do well?
Maia leaned against the side table and looked out the window.
Memories from the past began to resurface one by one.
‘Are you scared?’
A boy from her memories looked down at her tear-stained face with calm eyes and asked.
I wiped the tears from my cheek and replied quietly.
‘I have to go to the capital. I’m supposed to meet the Emperor himself… I’m scared. I don’t want to go.’
‘Maia.’
‘That man, with Mother… with my mother…’
I couldn’t finish my sentence. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
I barely managed to speak through hiccupping sobs.
Rihi knelt to meet my eyes.
‘Of course you’re scared. That’s only natural. I understand.’
He pulled me into a hug.
Surprised by his sudden gesture, I stopped crying and opened my eyes wide.
His soft voice sounded right next to my ear.
‘But if you don’t go, your mother will be in trouble.’
My tear-filled eyes blinked.
‘Mother? …I don’t want that.’
‘Right?’
Rihi, smiling a smile I couldn’t see, lifted his head.
In his small hand was a little flower branch.
‘…You can’t not go. So I’ll give you a gift instead. Here, a branch with magic on it.’
I was curious about the mention of magic and took the branch, turning it this way and that.
Then I frowned and replied,
‘This is just a hawthorn branch.’
Despite his claim of magic, it looked like a completely ordinary stick.
At my disappointed tone, Rihi’s gentle smile turned into a playful grin.
‘You just can’t see it because you’re a dummy. It’s totally different from normal branches.’
Dummy?
I puffed out my cheeks and glared at him. Rihi poked them with a finger.
‘Ow…’
‘So take that with you when you go.’
I was rubbing my cheek but stopped and looked at Rihi.
‘I’ve put a special magic on it that will take away all the fear in your heart. It’ll definitely help you.’
‘…Really…?’
Doubtful, I asked.
Rihi answered confidently.
‘Has my magic ever not worked?’
‘No…’
‘Then don’t shake like a bunny in front of the Emperor. Go proud, like a baby lion.’
He grinned with pride.
A faint smile bloomed on her pale face.
Maia dreamed of meeting an old friend she hadn’t seen in a long time.
The day of the trial dawned.
The head maid was transported to the palace first, as a major criminal.
The Duke of Western and Maia, as the key witness and plaintiff, headed to the palace shortly after.
“…Please, go ahead.”
Dressed in a bronze-colored ceremonial uniform, the Duke stood tall, waiting for her.
As she reached the carriage, he held out his hand.
Maia glanced at his black-gloved hand. Her golden-brown dress, embroidered in gold, reached to her ankles—easy enough to climb in without assistance.
She ignored the Duke’s hand and stepped into the carriage.
She didn’t look back, so she didn’t see what expression he wore.
“Then we’ll depart now, Your Grace.”
At the attendant’s call, the carriage door shut and began to roll smoothly.
The Duke seemed uncomfortable. The way his gloved hands wouldn’t stay still on his lap made it obvious.
“The Emperor himself will preside over the trial today. Perhaps it would have been better for us to match our attire.”
He was criticizing her dress, saying it clashed with his dark formalwear.
“Perhaps. But His Majesty is so magnanimous, he rarely even grants a glance. I doubt it will matter.”
Maia replied gently, but her indifference was unmistakable.
“…Something seems to have happened with the Crown Prince and Princess. They’ve been avoiding public appearances and won’t be attending the trial either.”
Trying to continue the conversation, the Duke brought up another topic.
But Maia didn’t want to talk to him.
No—that wasn’t quite right.
She had no intention of talking to him at all.
“Forgive me, Your Grace. I feel a wave of fatigue and may not be able to hold a proper conversation. I would like to rest until we arrive at the palace.”
The Duke’s eyes twitched slightly at her polite rejection.
“…As you wish.”
He spoke no further.
In the heavy silence, Maia opened her tightly clenched hand.
In her gloved palm were small white flowers.
They were from the hawthorn branch Rihi had sent.
A soft laugh slipped through her lips.
At seven years old, a little girl had feared meeting the Emperor, and so she clutched a branch from her friend and rode to the palace.
Now, at twenty, that same girl—now a young woman—gripped the flowers from a branch sent by the same friend as she faced her uncertain future.
Maia gently stroked the petals, careful not to crush them.
Once, this space would’ve left her too suffocated to breathe in peace.
Now, she didn’t feel even an ounce of discomfort.
Perhaps it was thanks to the magic her friend had sent with those petals.
Maia smiled softly and turned her gaze out the window.
