The Duke of Ernhardt’s estate was known even in the capital city of Stelten for its beautiful scenery. Behind it stretched the grand Chernay Forest, and in front lay the vast Shumava Lake. Its beautiful garden, complete with a pond, and the historically rich, venerable mansion were works of art in themselves.
But the lady of the house, Elliche, wore only a somber expression.
“There’s still no word from the Duke today either, is there?”
In response to her question, the well-built butler, Bengsche, answered politely.
“There is not, madam.”
“No message saying when he’ll return?”
“No, madam. None.”
Bengsche’s responses were always courteous, yet never informative.
Elliche was always the last person in the mansion to learn anything about Lexius. Even then, it was usually Cecile who picked up rumors from the maids and relayed them to her.
The elusive butler would only appear when summoned by Cecile and never offered any meaningful answers.
“The Duke must still be in the northern territory, right?”
“Yes. He’s reinforcing the northern border defenses. Since it borders the land of the beasts, strong fortifications are necessary.”
“And next, he’ll head to the eastern mines.”
“Yes, likely so.”
“In the summer, the western port. And in the fall, he’ll be in the south for the harvest.”
“Yes, I believe so.”
Elliche fell silent, bitter over the mechanical replies.
Not at war, yet a wife who hasn’t seen her husband’s face in three years.
The Ernhardt domain spanned across the empire. Inherited lands were in the north and south, while Lexius had purchased mines in the east and a port in the west.
He claimed he had no time to stay at the capital mansion because he had to oversee all these territories. But before the marriage, Elliche knew Lexius had spent quite a bit of time in Stelten.
Yet, the day after their wedding, he left the capital and barely returned in the three years since. A week the year before last, ten days last year—those were the longest stretches.
Even then, he didn’t spare Elliche a glance.
When he arrived in the capital, over 200 knights and staff lined up to greet him outside the mansion. He greeted every one of them—except her. It was as if she were a ghost.
Everyone in the mansion treated her the same. She barely saw anyone in the halls—just the cleaning maids, a serving maid for meals, and a coachman for outings.
They bowed when passing, but never used the title “madam.”
It was clear: they had no intention of recognizing her as the Duchess.
Only Cecile remained by her side. If Elliche hadn’t been able to bring her from the palace, she wouldn’t even have had a space to breathe.
Suppressing her turmoil, Elliche asked Bengsche again:
“He will attend the Crown Prince’s investiture, won’t he?”
“We’ve yet to receive word, madam. But there’s still a month until the ceremony.”
“It takes over a month just to get here from the north. If we haven’t heard anything by now…”
“His Grace only needs two weeks. He travels much faster than ordinary folk, being with trained knights.”
“…I see. You may go now.”
Elliche finally dismissed Bengsche with a sigh. Once again, no new information—only confirmation of her husband’s cold indifference.
No matter how aloof Lexius was, he couldn’t skip the Crown Prince’s investiture. A casual banquet might be ignored, but not a ceremony of that level.
With a grim face, Elliche fiddled with the bracelet on her wrist.
It had been forcibly placed on her by the Emperor during her last summons to the palace.
> “Wear this, Elliche. This time, you must bear a child.”
When she had returned empty-handed after failing to meet Lexius even in the south, the Emperor had flown into a rage and declared he wouldn’t stand by any longer.
That’s how she ended up wearing the bracelet, a string of multicolored gems.
She was told to open the green one and sprinkle the powder on Lexius—then he’d be compelled to come to her.
> “Until you’re pregnant, he’ll desire you with a fury. And remember—if this fails, that slave’s life is forfeit.”
It was horrifying. No doubt some kind of black magic-laced potion.
She hadn’t wanted to go through with it. But she had no choice. If she didn’t bear Lexius’s child, the Emperor would kill Hadin.
—
Elliche’s carriage, with her maid, passed through the Duke’s mansion gates.
Riding behind it at a distance was Judel, following slowly on horseback. This shadowing had continued for three years.
> “Keep an eye on the princess, Judel. You never know what she might try.”
The day after the wedding three years ago, Lexius had issued that order as he headed to the southern domain.
> “Why me? Please assign me another task.”
It was Judel’s first act of disobedience. She was willing to face any danger—but shadowing the princess was unbearable.
> “You’ve got the best instincts. And you’ve got your sick brother here in the capital. Let me give you work that lets you stay.”
Lexius’s reply was firm.
And it was true. Even among the elite knights of the Ernhardt order, Judel’s instincts were unmatched.
If she sensed a chill in the woods, a beast attack would follow. If something felt off in battle, it meant an ambush. She’d even uncovered spies within the order multiple times.
Lexius trusted her instincts deeply.
> “Right now, the biggest threat to the house is that woman. If she gets a lover, our name will be ruined. If she’s kidnapped because we neglected her, it’s a headache. If she dies—worse.”
> “Ah…”
> “And behind her is the Emperor. Who knows what plans brought her to this house? She could be trying to ruin us. We need surveillance.”
> “So you want my instincts watching her.”
> “Exactly. I’ll double your pay. And your brother will get the best doctors.”
Lexius had shown her ultimate trust. And to a knight, that meant everything.
From that day on, whenever the princess went out, Judel followed.
Three years of following, yet the princess had never shown suspicious behavior.
Other than being summoned by the Emperor once every three months, she led an extremely quiet life.
Her only “incident” was traveling south, desperate to see Lexius, only to return without meeting him.
When Lexius heard she was coming, he immediately left for the north. Upon learning he had left, the princess fell ill for days.
Today, again, she would visit Dr. Mice’s clinic, the gardening shop, and the alley in Quays. Always the same routine.
Sometimes she added a stop at a construction office—when something was wrong with her greenhouse.
Rarely seen by the mansion staff, the princess spent most of her days in the greenhouse.
Her world revolved around cultivating strange, unheard-of plants and flowers.
And every Wednesday, she went out with her maid.
She sold what appeared to be medicine made from those plants at the clinic and bought supplies for the greenhouse.
But what did she do in the Quays alley?
Judel still didn’t know. The princess never met anyone or entered any building. Just walked straight through the long, dark street.
That alley was known for illicit goods and slave trading. The only notable thing about it was that a famous information guild operated there.
—
“Welcome, Lady Ritz.”
Doctor Mice greeted the woman with his usual pleasant smile.
With radiant golden hair and enchanting blue eyes, the woman claimed to be a distant relative of the Duke of Ernhardt.
Given the carriage marked with the Ernhardt crest, there was little reason to doubt her.
Young and seemingly naïve, she nonetheless possessed tremendous skill, and they had done business for three years.
No—not just business. She was the one who had elevated his humble clinic to where it was now.
Back then, Mice’s clinic was a shabby rental in a back alley, mostly treating poor commoners.
Now, he occupied a large new building in the bustling district—all thanks to her medicines.
Especially in the field of antidotes, his clinic was now known as the best in the capital.
“Madam, have you completed the antidote for Chorpang?”
As he ushered her into the VIP room, Mice couldn’t wait to ask. He’d been anticipating it.
Chorpang was a deadly poison, a combination of the beastly Chorpos venom and plant toxins. It had no known antidote and couldn’t be healed by divine power—making it a favorite among assassins.
If she’d made an antidote, it could sell for a fortune.
“I couldn’t make much,” Lady Ritz said modestly.
But Mice, thrilled, nearly jumped. Just the fact that she succeeded was world-changing.
“H-how many bottles?”
“Ten.”
Ten bottles. Mice’s jaw dropped. The only Chorpang antidote on the entire continent.
He could charge 50,000 Stels per bottle—about the cost of a luxurious noble mansion. And people would still buy. It was a matter of life and death.
“I’ll pay 10,000 Stels per bottle. How about that?”
He offered quickly. She never sold anything without upfront payment. With some loans, he could gather 100,000 Stels. He wanted to buy them all.
That meant reselling each at 50,000 would net him 400,000 Stels. An immense fortune.
But the delicate-looking young woman simply smiled, her blue eyes sparkling. Tossing her silky golden hair back, she replied carefully.
“I want to sell this one myself. If you can introduce a buyer, I’ll give you a referral fee.”
“W-what? You’ve never done that before.”
“This antidote is that rare. I’ll give you 10,000 Stels per bottle as a referral. If that doesn’t work for you, I’ll find another clinic.”
“You mean… you’ll change vendors?”
Mice panicked. He had always exclusively sold her medicines, under his own name, per her request for anonymity. His reputation had soared because of her.
Lady Ritz simply smiled.
“I’d prefer to sell through you. But if the fee isn’t enough, I’ll go elsewhere.”
“I-I’ll do it! Of course! How much should I say the price is?”
“100,000 Stels.”
She said it lightly. As if unaware how the market worked—just quoting the highest number possible.
“Wh-what? Isn’t that too much? There aren’t many in the Empire who could afford that…”
“If no one buys, I won’t sell. Selling below that only cheapens the value.”
She was firm.
