Chapter 4
The maids hurried after me in a fluster as I strode confidently down the hallway. They followed nervously, unable to stop me, their faces twisted in distress. There was only one destination in the direction I was headed, and they knew it. Still, they didn’t try to hold me back.
I was no longer afraid of the truth like I used to be. In fact, I was simply curious now.
As they say, strike while the iron is hot—so I decided to ask the Marquis directly. Whether I was his biological daughter or not didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of life.
Despite the countless rumors, I had lived well enough until the end.
Though the end wasn’t exactly great.
The Marquis would remain as he always had—silent, neither affirming nor denying anything.
“What brings you here?”
Two knights stood guard at the office door. They looked visibly shocked that I—someone who had never once set foot near the Marquis’s office—had come all the way here.
“I’m here to see the Marq—no, Father. Is he inside?”
“He is, but…”
The two exchanged glances and trailed off awkwardly. I had no idea why everyone was so hesitant and sluggish today—maids and knights alike.
I had no reason to be patient with them. Without hesitation, I opened the office door.
The knights were stationed there to block the approach of the Marchioness, not me. I had never once in my life come to the office of my own accord, so naturally, the Marquis had never needed to issue an order to restrict my access. Even if they wore troubled expressions, it was only natural that they couldn’t stop me.
I hadn’t kicked the door open this time like I did at the Marchioness’s quarters, so the door swung open smoothly and silently. As expected, the Marquis was seated at his large desk, working. Beside him stood the butler, upright and unwavering.
“Young Lady, you’re here.”
The butler’s gaze briefly flickered in surprise at my sudden entrance, but he quickly bowed politely in a composed manner, as if that momentary lapse had never happened.
True to his reputation as the Marquis’s right-hand man, the butler was stern yet had a trace of warmth. In contrast, the Marquis didn’t even glance at me. Though the butler’s words had surely informed him of my arrival, he didn’t so much as flinch, simply scanning his documents.
What a cold-hearted man.
Why did the Marchioness ever fall in love with someone like him?
I had to admit, the Marquis was handsome. His dark navy hair and blue eyes suited his sharp, defined features and gave off a distinctly cool, attractive aura. His boldly sculpted face radiated masculinity. I’d heard women had once swooned from unrequited love just by looking at him in his youth. It didn’t seem like an exaggeration. Even without going that far, the Marchioness alone was proof enough—she was completely obsessed with him.
Though time had added fine lines around his eyes, it only seemed to enhance his mature charm.
While the Marquis himself came from a civil background, his family lineage was military. As such, his body was as fit and solid as any knight’s. His abilities were exceptional—despite his military origins, he had risen to the top of the empire’s political ranks solely through merit.
Truly, the heavens had been fair: they had given him both looks and talent—but stopped short at personality. That cold demeanor and complete indifference to others could only be seen as a flaw in character.
The more I thought about it, the more it strengthened my belief that I wasn’t his biological daughter. Not just in looks—our personalities couldn’t be more different.
“Shall I serve you tea?”
Perhaps feeling sorry for me just standing there staring, the butler asked with a gentle smile. A tea set was already arranged beside him—for the Marquis, of course. It must’ve been prepared in advance, knowing the Marquis would be working long hours.
I had no intention of waiting long, so I shook my head. Without asking again, the butler poured a cup and placed it on the Marquis’s desk.
Fragrant steam rose gently from the teacup. Without even glancing up, the Marquis reached out and grabbed the cup with his left hand while signing papers with his right.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as the tea slid down his throat. Every movement was graceful, efficient, and perfectly aligned with noble etiquette. Yet, his gaze remained fixed on the documents.
It was clear the Marquis had no intention of meeting my eyes until his work was done. But I wasn’t going to wait. Who knew how long he would take? And I wasn’t about to walk away empty-handed.
Since I was already here, I figured I might as well stab a rotten radish with the drawn sword. So I asked directly:
“Am I really your daughter?”
“Gasp!”
“Wha—!”
“Cough!”
A chorus of gasps rang out behind me. Even the butler, who had remained calm until now, flinched while holding the hot tea pot. If not for his quick reflexes, the pot would’ve shattered on the floor.
At last, the Marquis’s right hand stopped signing documents. For the first time since I entered the room, he raised his head to look at me. His blue eyes were calm, void of emotion.
Even though my question was essentially a bombshell, he didn’t show the slightest sign of surprise. That, in itself, was impressive.
I’d expected a reaction like this, so I met his eyes calmly. After a pause, he spoke slowly.
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I said.”
He frowned slightly. That, in itself, was noteworthy. The Marquis rarely showed emotion. “The Iron Chancellor,” “Ice-Hearted,” “Man of Steel”—these were all nicknames used to describe him.
His cold gaze pierced me. I stared right back. He seemed to be assessing my intentions. The room filled with a heavy silence. Behind me, someone gulped audibly.
“Is that important?”
“No.”
His eyebrows twitched again at my quick response. As far as I knew, I had never seen such a variety of expressions from him in one day. Perhaps that’s why—for once—he sighed faintly. He even looked a little tired.
“Take your childish games elsewhere.”
He seemed to think I was just playing a silly prank and turned his attention back to his documents.
His hand resumed moving over the paper. A clear signal for me to leave.
“It may not matter to me personally, but if I want to reach the top, it’s a problematic rumor.”
His hand paused again. He quietly set down his pen and looked back up at me. His eyes were icy as frost.
“Do you want to be Empress?”
“Gasp!”
“Wha—!”
“Cough!”
“Hic—ugh!”
Again, shocked gasps rang out behind me. I should’ve shut the door the moment I walked in, but I wasn’t used to doing things myself, so I forgot.
This is why pampered lives are problematic.
Even the Marquis seemed annoyed by the audience. He signaled silently to the butler, who swiftly moved to carry out the order.
After bowing respectfully to both of us, the butler stepped past me and cleared out the knights and maids standing behind me. The thick door closed shut, leaving only the Marquis and me in the room.
After a brief silence, he spoke again.
“I’ll ask once more. Do you want to be Empress?”
“If I say I want to, does that mean I can become one?”
He gave me a strange look. His blue eyes reflected my face completely.
“You think about the most useless things.”
Something like a smirk appeared briefly on his lips, only to vanish. No—correction. It wasn’t a smirk. It was a sneer, directed at me.
He studied me like I was an unusual animal. While it was a small win to finally have his full attention, it didn’t exactly feel pleasant.
“Rumors about one’s bloodline can sometimes be fatal.”
Indeed, when I became Empress, the rumors surrounding my lineage had greatly weakened my position. Even when I was metaphorically torn to pieces by baseless rumors, the Marquis never once addressed the issue.
Officially, the matter of my bloodline was never raised—because the Marquis treated it as something beneath notice. His unwavering silence prevented the issue from becoming a public scandal.
But his handling of it behind the scenes only gave birth to countless rumors. Especially among the women of the aristocratic society, gossip was everything. Even as Empress, I wasn’t exempt. If anything, I was more tightly bound by those unspoken rules. In high society—where people smile while hiding blades in their hearts—bloodline doubts were deadly.
Truth was secondary. The mere suspicion was enough to make me a target for wolves.
“I’m not foolish enough to walk into a fire with a known weakness.”
Bionne had resented the Marquis for never clearing things up. His silence forced her to fight unnecessary battles and made her countless enemies. Of course, her personality and attitude were largely to blame—but that initial issue was the spark.
Until the moment of her death, Bionne had resented him. More precisely, she resented and cursed the entire world. That sorrow and despair still lingered deep inside me, rattling my heart.
Not that I still harbor resentment or curses now. It’s more like leftover feelings after immersing yourself in a movie where you identified with the main character. A lingering trace.
The truth about whether I was his daughter wasn’t that important. Whatever the truth, as long as he remained silent, I was the legitimate daughter of Marquis Ellient—and remained so until my death.
There was something else I had wanted to know—important enough to bring me all the way to the Marquis’s office.
Answer straight not in riddles