Chapter 11
After glaring at Diana’s retreating figure, Alicia headed straight for Catherine’s room. She considered barging in but hesitated, eyeing the newly replaced maids before knocking.
“Young Lady, it’s Alicia. I heard you weren’t feeling well.”
A lie, of course. She couldn’t risk the new servants reporting anything suspicious to Diana.
“Yes. Come in.”
Catherine’s hoarse voice answered. Alicia frowned as she entered, closing the door behind her before dropping onto the sofa with an arrogant sigh.
“Did you catch a cold?”
“No. Diana made me read aloud…”
“She made you read?”
She dared strain my daughter’s voice just for that? Alicia’s face twisted. She wanted to storm upstairs and drag that wretched woman by her hair.
“For hours. Every day.”
“Every day?”
“I have to.”
“You have to?”
Alicia stared, surprised by Catherine’s compliance.
“She canceled my meeting with Prince Soiré.”
“What?!”
Alicia’s jaw dropped. Soiré was Catherine’s crush—something Diana knew. The Diana she remembered would never hurt Catherine like this.
“She even scolded me.”
“Hah.”
Alicia let out a disbelieving laugh. Has losing her sight driven her mad?
First, she replaced all the handpicked maids. Now she was berating the daughter she once adored?
“She’s been unusually irritable since losing her sight.”
Catherine shrugged, popping a macaron into her mouth.
Well, that made sense. Going blind overnight would unsettle anyone.
Alicia’s plan to oust Diana was still in its early stages. Until then, she had to play the obedient mistress.
But should she just watch as Diana spiraled?
Calypso was already hers. Yet that fool Diana had the audacity to brag about his jealousy?
“Anyway, there’s something more important.”
“What?”
“She wants me to learn magic.”
Catherine said it casually, but Alicia paled.
Magic talent was innate. Meticulous as she was, Alicia had long confirmed Catherine had none.
And the problem was—magic was hereditary. If Diana had it, so should her daughter.
If Catherine couldn’t manifest even a trace of mana, even dim-witted Diana might grow suspicious.
“You didn’t agree, did you?”
“…I did.”
Alicia pinched the bridge of her nose. Fool girl.
No matter how skilled Diana’s instructor was, fooling him wouldn’t be easy.
“Sigh…”
“You can fix this, right? You’re a brilliant physician.”
Catherine saw Alicia’s medical title as proof of superiority—smarter, more capable than Diana, who only read books and sipped tea with nobles.
But in truth, becoming a mage was far rarer and harder than becoming a physician. Even with mana, not everyone could enter the Tower—it demanded grueling training and arcane studies.
Diana herself had memorized elemental theories as a child, though she’d abandoned magic after marriage.
“Catherine, deceiving mages isn’t simple. Half-hearted tricks will only raise suspicions.”
“Then what do I do? I can’t back out now!”
Catherine shrieked, pride wounded. She refused to look incompetent over magic.
Just then, Alicia’s gaze landed on Catherine’s bookshelf. A spark lit in her eyes.
She strode over and rapped sharply on the wood.
“Aisel!”
The hidden compartment between the shelf and wall was soundproof—knocking was the only way to be heard.
The shelf slid open, revealing a frail, slumped figure.
“Aisel! Hurry up!”
Alicia smacked the sluggish child’s head.
Aisel’s emerald eyes—so like Diana’s—lifted slowly.
For some reason, those hollow eyes seemed to hold a latent, dangerous light.
Unnerved, Alicia looked away.
No matter what, Diana’s real daughter is in my grasp.
As long as she controlled Aisel, Diana would remain a defeated foe.
You can’t win against me, Diana.
With Aisel’s help, she could fake Catherine’s magical ability. Alicia smirked.
“You. Learn magic.”
“Huh? Magic?”
Aisel blinked, bewildered.
“I’ll hire a low-tier mage to teach you. Learn it.”
“But… I’m just a commoner. I can’t possibly—”
“Just do it. And you’ll assist the Young Lady.”
Alicia folded her arms, explaining coldly.
Finding a mage with Diana’s exact ice affinity would be near impossible. Worse, mages couldn’t be fully trusted.
But Aisel—utterly dependent—was the perfect tool.
After a long silence, Aisel spoke softly.
“…You want me to use magic so it looks like she’s the one casting?”
Catherine scoffed. Since when does this brat talk so much?
It sounded like a taunt—Can’t the precious Young Lady even use magic?
Enraged, Catherine lunged and struck Aisel wildly, venting her frustration.
“You lowborn wretch! Just obey! Who said you could talk back?!”
“Catherine. Enough. Don’t kill her. We need her.”
Alicia watched impassively as Aisel took the beating.
Still fuming, Catherine shoved her away.
“Ugh, I can’t stand the sight of you! Get back inside!”
“…Yes, Young Lady.”
Huddled in pain, Aisel staggered up, trembling head to toe.
Neither woman showed an ounce of pity.
Clutching her bruised body, Aisel crawled back into the hidden compartment.
Once the shelf closed, Alicia and Catherine exchanged glances.
“I’ll arrange a tutor starting tomorrow. Don’t worry. You’re the real heir, Catherine.”
“…Right.”
Though uneasy, Catherine glared at the shelf, as if daring Aisel to challenge her pride.
The next morning, Alicia smuggled a low-tier mage into the estate. Even with Catherine’s added funds, she could only afford the cheapest of tutors.
“Begin.”
With Catherine away reading to Diana, the mage began lessons in her room, teaching concepts Alicia couldn’t fathom.
An hour later, the sweaty tutor approached Alicia.
“Well?”
“She… has talent, I think. But it’s strange. The mana won’t manifest.”
The mage scratched his head, baffled.
Aisel’s mana was faint but undeniably present. Even a trace should allow basic spellcasting—yet nothing emerged.
“So she has mana?”
“Yes. A very weak signature, but it’s there.”
Good enough. Alicia’s lips curled.
Hear that, Diana? Your precious daughter’s talent is just as pitiful.
She longed to drag Diana here and flaunt it—to point and laugh at the failure of her bloodline.
Suppressing her glee, Alicia asked calmly:
“Can you teach her to manifest it by next week?”
“I’ll try.”
The mage sounded doubtful.
Aisel had to succeed. Even the slightest suspicion from Diana could unravel everything.
After dismissing the tutor, Alicia returned with a basket.
“Here.”
“What’s this…?”
Inside were roasted chicken legs, buttered steak, sugar-glazed potatoes, and fresh milk—meals Aisel had never seen.
Catherine would’ve thrown a fit if she knew.
Not that Alicia wanted to feed this wretched child. The thinner and sicklier Aisel was, the happier Catherine would be.
But malnutrition might hinder mana flow.
This was pure selfish necessity.
“Eat up. You must succeed.”
“…Yes. I understand.”
Aisel’s eyes sparkled at the rich aromas. She crawled back into the hidden space and devoured the food ravenously.
“Ah… I’m full.”
She patted her stomach—a far cry from her usual cowed demeanor.
Then she held out her palm.
Closing her eyes, she focused—and when they snapped open, a brilliant blue light erupted.
Larger, more dazzling than Diana’s ice crystals, shimmering gems of frost swirled around her.
“Haa…”
Slowly, Aisel withdrew her mana. The radiant glow faded, plunging the room back into darkness.
“Mother…”
Tears rolled down Aisel’s cheeks—so like Diana’s.
