Chapter Text
Chapter 8 : Matthias’s POV: Rumors and Rohreiz
Matthias swore to himself that if Laurenz kept sending him sidelong glances like that, he was going to smother him with a pillow tonight. It didn’t help that ever since they had heard about Lady Ellianne’s condition and seen the former giebe wasting away inside a jureve hidden beneath a carpet, those glances had become filled with something almost like pity.
The pity was misplaced. Matthias simply found Lady Ellianne interesting. He did not have a crush. If anyone deserved sympathy, it was the lady herself, not him. Matthias wasn’t sure he understood everything with the same precision as Lord Ferdinand, Lady Rozemyne, or even Leonore, but he understood enough to know that an already complicated situation had become more complex.
He understood that Lady Ellianne’s life expectancy might not be promising.
He understood that the noble families around the province had wanted her to die in that mine accident.
He understood that removing her from the giebe’s seat would probably neither end the cursed-eyes condition nor resolve the underlying conflict. This province had far too much history for that.
He understood that Lady Ellianne’s cleverness and kindness toward her people could not make up for everything she lacked,and that some of her mistakes could have disastrous consequences if she were allowed to continue as she was.
What he didn’t understand was how Lady Rozemyne and Lord Ferdinand intended to sort out this mess. They would probably demote Lady Ellianne, but they were not the sort to order her execution, especially now that she had demonstrated genuine talent. On the other hand, they couldn’t simply remove her from Valvert, either—not when her knowledge of the province and her relationship with its people were among her few strengths. Leaving her as a live-in servant in another family would be far too risky. They could abuse her and waste her talent. He supposed she could be married to the next giebe, but—
The idea left a bad taste in his mouth. Probably because Lady Ellianne obviously cared for her uncle very deeply. She had remained perfectly polite until someone implied that Lord Ernest had made a mistake, after all. The fact she had let her mask slip and shown her anger—just as she had after failing to save the miner—was telling.
Matthias had not the faintest idea of where to begin untangling all of this.
So, since he could not, he would focus on something he could do—something that unfortunately would not get him out of Lady Ellianne’s orbit or away from his colleagues’ romance-addled minds.
It was something he would simply have to live with.
He was going to look for clues about Grausam’s wrongdoings here. Lady Ellianne’s reaction to the name of Gerlach had been a good start. She had paused for a moment, then replied, “Matthias of Gerlach,” which meant she knew it was a province. How could a woman with so little formal education know the name of a province belonging to another duchy? It was a slim clue, but it was all he had at the moment.
(He had been rather reckless with that attempt, and while he could blame Laurenz’s teasing for pushing him to it, his actions and words had been entirely his own, making it no one’s fault but his own. The realization left him feeling somewhat ashamed. Technically, the moment he defected, he had ceased to be Matthias Sohn Gerlach. Besides, Gerlach would most likely be ruled by Wilfried once the boy finished his Royal Academy courses, or at least that was the latest report they received from Ehrenfest. Matthias really ought not to use that name so carelessly. Wilfried might not remain an archduke candidate for much longer, but he still outranked Matthias).
They made their way back to the giebe’s estate, following the glowing red lines running through cobblestones. Matthias tried very hard not to dwell on what he would do if he discovered that Lady Ellianne or someone in her family had worked with Grausam, no matter how cryptic the clues were.
***
Gretia had done a marvelous job during their absence. She was always so diligent and thorough that even Lord Ferdinand rarely found fault with her work. While Hartmut had effectively taken all the province’s noble families hostage with one of his sermons, she had prepared the quarters for her lords and fellow retainers within the manor.
When Matthias saw the sleeping arrangements and realized he would be sharing a room with Laurenz, he shot his friend a long look. Laurenz accepted the news of his impending death with the resignation and dignity befitting a true knight.
The ordonnanz that had interrupted their meeting with Lady Ellianne had been sent by Gretia merely to inform them that their rooms were ready for the night. When she learned they had returned because of it, she profusely apologized, but Lady Rozemyne simply reassured her.
“It worked out for the best. Now I shall go to the kitchen and tell Ella and Hugo all about rohreiz!”
The declaration left Gretia greatly confused and Lord Ferdinand mildly annoyed. He gave Lady Rozemyne one of his smiles—the sort that contained no warmth whatsoever—and informed her that before doing anything else, they had to greet the nobles who had been waiting for them since lunchtime and who likely couldn’t leave until they had been dismissed by either Lady Ellianne or the aub.
For one brief moment, Lady Rozemyne looked as though she were seriously considering making them wait the entire night. In the end, however, she followed after Ferdinand with a pout.
“We’re only going to dismiss them. It’s much too late for anything else, isn’t it, Ferdinand?”
No response.
“Right?” she repeated, her hopes fading with every step.
Matthias felt a measure of sympathy for his lady. It was getting late. By this hour, she would normally have finished her dinner and begun preparing for bed, yet meeting with the province’s nobles would inevitably delay that routine.
“Do not worry, my Lady,” Lieseleta assured Lady Rozemyne. Her tone made it clear that like Rihyarda before her, she would not allow the meeting interfere with Lady Rozemyne’s healthy routine. She took out her notepad and asked, “Please, describe the recipe you have in mind. I will make sure to relay it to Ella and Hugo so they can prepare it and have it waiting in your room when you return for a late meal.”
Lady Rozemyne hid her disappointment remarkably well behind a small, wistful smile and complied. Before long, Lieseleta had written down the recipe and Leonore divided their group into shifts. Matthias managed to end up in the group that would eat dinner first, which came as a great relief. He was starving, and more importantly, Laurenz had been assigned to the other group—a fitting punishment for teasing him throughout the past bell.
Once they split, Gretia, armed with Lieseleta’s notes for the cooks, led them toward the kitchen. The manor was nowhere near as strange as Lady Ellianne and Lord Ernest’s estate, yet it still differed from what Matthias was accustomed to. What surprised him the most was the sheer number of art pieces adorning the corridors. Paintings depicting the province hung from the walls, while the windows were fitted with stained-glass shutters. Every piece was beautiful and unique. Some even portrayed the gods themselves, their faces painted into the colored glass.
“Wilma would love to see this,” commented Damuel.
“The servants told me it was all created by the former giebe, Lord Edmund,” Gretia explained. “This corridor in particular, as well as the stained-glass windows in the temple, were his gift for his grandfather, who was apparently a very devout man. Lord Edmund loved painting and stained-glass artistry. It was his hobby.”
She turned around and grasped one of the carved wooden ornaments attached to the wall. It swung open. It took Matthias a moment to realize that the ornament had actually been a handle revealing a hidden passageway.
Gretia warned them all: “Whenever you see walls like these, assume they’re paper-thin and hollow behind. There seem to be countless servants' passages hidden throughout the manor.”
The passageway was darker and narrower than the nobles’ corridor, but they could hear everything happening on the other side, and if they looked carefully through the narrow gaps, even make out the silhouettes of the people walking past.
“Lady Gretia!” One of the servants approached them carrying a large basket of laundry. “We have gifted the aub the finest linen we had available. If the aub feels cold, we have warmed the room with heat stones and lit the fireplace.”
“Thank you.”
They had to press themselves against the wall to let her pass, and even then it was difficult for her to squeeze through with the basket. Suddenly, Matthias was grateful for his lean build, while Damuel had to hold his breath and rise onto his tiptoes to make enough room. The little servant apologized and thanked them profusely before hurrying on her way.
It took a while before they finally emerged from the manor. The kitchen was located in a separate annex, outside of the main building. A covered pergola connected the two structures, with shutters and glass windows shielding it from the wind, but they could still feel the sharp drop in temperature.
Matthias glanced toward the snow-covered garden. Even in the darkness, he could make out the wall surrounding the property, and he was surprised to notice the entrance and small, window-like openings built into it. He supposed the servants were lodged within those quarters, much like the dwellings around the mine pit.
When they arrived, Ella and Hugo were still in the kitchen despite the late hour, preparing what looked like bread for the following morning. They accepted the recipe Gretia handed them and immediately slipped into experimentation mode despite not having received any rohreiz yet.
“I can’t wait to taste it,” Hugo said, grinning to his wife.
“Before you do anything,” Justus said, seeming to appear out of nowhere, “Please, use only the supplies we brought from Alexandria for the time being. Well, except for the rohreiz.”
The cooks nodded at once. They understood exactly what he meant.
Before preparing the new recipe, they carefully cleaned all of their utensils, taking every precaution.
Several of the retainers were unable to hide their curiosity. Matthias, despite having little interest in food in general, found himself sharing their enthusiasm. The dishes Lady Rozemyne invented were simply that good.
Still, since the new recipe had yet to be made, this group had to settle for the cold meal originally prepared for lunch. Ella reheated it for them, adding a few spices and finishing touches to improve its flavor.
As they gathered around a small table to eat, Damuel told Matthias, “Sir Matthias, If Laurenz is bothering you too much, I could switch rooms with you.”
“Laurenz and you are fighting?” Gretia asked, sounding concerned.
“Fighting is too strong a word. It’s more teasing than anything else. I appreciate the offer, Sir Damuel, but it is fine. I can handle that much. Though, I would gladly take the last guarding shift if I could.”
Besides, if he switched rooms with Sir Damuel, he would lose the opportunity to get revenge on his friend tonight. Knights normally rotated guard duty, each standing watch outside their lord’s and lady’s room for one bell. Matthias could rig Laurenz’s bed while he was on duty and eliminate any chance of immediate retaliation by volunteering for the last watch of the night.
As they ate, Matthias proceeded to explain everything Gretia had missed. It was important that every retainer worked with the same information and understanding of the situation. Talking to Gretia was easier.
She had also given her name to Lady Rozemyne, after all. He missed Roderick. It was a shame Roderick had to remain in Alexandria as their trusted scholar, relaying messages between them. It was not as though there remained much of a divide between the former Veronica faction retainers anymore. After everything they had been through together, they trusted one another. Yet, a subtle distinction remained between those who had given their names to Lady Rozemyne and those who hadn’t. Though it wasn’t born from contempt, nor could it truly be called jealousy. There was simply an emotion Matthias struggled to put into words. Perhaps it was a longing for acknowledgement?
Or perhaps it was simply annoyance, because Hartmut never missed an opportunity to remind everyone of the fact. The worst part was that he did not even do it out of malice. He was simply so proud that his life was tied to the Saint’s in such a profound way that he could not help showing it.
Gretia listened thoughtfully as Matthias recounted the events, with Justus and Damuel occasionally filling in details he had overlooked.
“We ought to make sure Lady Rozamyne never witnesses someone dying from this grisfey gas…” she concluded quietly.
When Justus mentioned Lord Ernest’s infamous reputation, Gretia lowered her head, her bangs concealing half of her face. Matthias did not know every detail of her past, but having belonged to the same faction, he knew enough. He assumed she was worried about Lady Ellianne’s treatment at the hands of her fiance.
“How trustworthy do you think those rumors are?” Matthias asked, concerned.
Justus shrugged. “I’ll need to investigate further, but when commoners claim that some of them were killed, they usually aren’t lying. Unlike nobles, they have very little reason to invent such stories.”
That was, unfortunately, true.
“I also listened to what the servants’ whispers while you were gone,” Gretia admitted, clasping her hands together on the table. “Some of them say quite plainly that Lord Ernest had had…” She searched for a suitable word, or perhaps an euphemism, before deciding on. “…Deviant inclinations… since his Royal Academy years.”
“What kind?” Justus inquired. “Noble society labels a great many behaviors as deviant.”
He should know. He himself had often been counted among those deemed deviants.
“That depends on whom you ask. Older servants say he would rather have been one of Verbergen’s rafel, and that he followed the god’s example with remarkable devotion.”
Matthias frowned, uncertain what that was supposed to mean. Did… that mean he wanted to be a woman? Or that he was a man who rentlessly pursued women?
“So pursuing men rather than women?” Justus translated, apparently noticing Matthias’s confusion. “Well, that’s hardly a problem, so long as it remains behind closed doors and he still marries.”
Wait… That is a thing? was his first thought. He had never heard anyone speak of such things, not at the Royal Academy nor anywhere else. It felt as though someone had opened a hidden door inside his childhood home, revealing an entire wing he had never known existed. He was too bewildered to even process it.
Then…
Wait… Where does it leave Lady Ellianne? As nothing more than his obligatory wife?
The idea of marrying for political reasons rather than love was perfectly ordinary among nobles, but… He did not know what unsettled him more: the fact that she was to marry someone of Grausam’s age, the fact that it would merely be a shield-marriage, or the fact that he found himself disturbed by any of those possibilities at all.
Gretia shook her head.
“There are other rumors. The younger servants say that he was interested only in those who had entered their spring. They claim he placed winter before autumn with his fiance long ago and that he guarded Lady Ellianne with the same intensity that Ewigeliebe guards Geduldh.”
Silence settled over the table, broken only by the clatter of the busy kitchen behind them. Matthias felt his heart sink.
“Well, that is closer to deviant. If it is true, it could make the situation considerably more complicated,” Justus simply said, dabbing his mouth with his napkin.
Indeed, it would close off an entire path for Lady Ellianne’s future.
“I would appreciate it if you could introduce me to the servants spreading those rumors,” Justus asked.
“Of course,” Gretia agreed.
“I don’t know how much weight those rumors carry, though,” Damuel said, trying to reassure her. “If anything, Lady Ellianne seemed to cherish him… and surely someone treated that way wouldn’t, would they?” He let out a small hiccup and gave Matthias an apologetic look.
Please, don’t look at me like that-
“Geduldh still loves Ewigeliebe,” Justus said, simply.
Gretia remained tense as she said, “And she has been raised since her baptism to be given to him.”
Matthias didn’t know what to think. In fact, he tried not to think about it too much lest it conjure images he would rather not imagine.
“Although Verbergen’s women eventually grew so resentful of his womanizing ways that they complained to Entrinduge. Besides, would you throw someone you cared about in a hole and hide them under a carpet?” Justus commented, sounding more amused than disturbed. “Perhaps she cares about him and is angry with him at the same time.”
That… well, it was a fair question. Even if Lady Ellianne had panicked, it was still an odd choice.
“Or, perhaps, she felt she had no choice but to care about him in order to survive,” Gretia suggested quietly.
Comments like that always left Matthias uneasy. He knew Gretia had suffered terribly at the hands of her own family and her former employer, even if he had never been told the details.
“I also learned something else while speaking with the servants,” Gretia continued after noticing him looking at her. “It may not mean much, but around the spring after your father fled to Ahrensbach… Some servants mentioned that a noble from old Werkestock visited a few times under direct orders from the archducal family.”
Matthias looked up, his heart beating faster with apprehension. Over the years, they had learned that this was the cover story Grausam most often used.
“Was he missing a hand?”
“Yes. However, many people are missing a limb because of the mines, and apparently prostheses are quite common, so that alone isn’t a reliable way to identify him.” Gretia paused before continuing, “The servants did say he visited Lord Ernest’s manor several times and stayed in Valvert before traveling to other cities throughout Krallberg. The last time anyone remembered seeing him was in autumn, shortly before the Lanzenavian invasion. They said his name was Garlhem.”
That was an alias Matthias recognized immediately as one of his father’s many names when conducting Georgine’s more clandestine affairs. So, he really had been here.
And if he met Lord Ernest… Then he had almost certainly met Lady Ellianne as well.
“Thank you, Gretia. Would you also introduce me to the people who told you all this?”
“Of course.”
“Very impressive, Gretia,” Justus praised with a smile. “Did you happen to borrow one of my tricks to coax that information out of them?”
“One of your tricks?” Damuel repeated, looking from Gretia to Justus, apprehension clear in his eyes.
Gretia simply remained silent, neither confirming nor denying it, which only made Damuel look even more uneasy.
As Matthias mulled over the new information, he suddenly sensed someone with mana approaching. He lifted his head and looked toward the door, expecting Lieseleta, Clarissa or perhaps even Hartmut. It was a little early for them to call for a shift change, but perhaps something had happened and they needed everyone back. Justus also looked up as well, ever so discreetly.
Then Matthias caught a glimpse of the scent of wet stone and burned wood.
Bleigift’s scent. Poison.
Instinctively, he summoned his schtappe and rose to his feet, facing the entrance, ready to stop whoever dared—
“Ah!”
It was a woman. Apparently not expecting to find so many people in the kitchen, she recoiled the moment she inside and stumbled to the floor, spilling several sacks and a small wooden box. The voice was strangely familiar.
“Lady Ellianne?” he asked, unsure.
The woman before him was almost unrecognizable.
This time, she was dressed in proper noble attire: a dark purple and grey dress trimmed with black lace that covered most of her skin. In true old Ahrensbach fashion, she wore a thin, translucent veil draped over the upper part of her head, ending just above her straight nose. Her cream curls were left loose. Rather than concealing her freckles with white powder—which could have been impossible on her darker complexion—she had them accentuated with tiny flecks of gold. The light filtering through the veil cast delicate, patterned shadows across her face, making it seem more like a carefully chosen fashion accessory than a mere covering. It also made her amber eye stand out even more beneath the veil.
Her dress had been tailored with remarkable care. Beneath the bulky protective suit she had worn at the mine, Matthias had assumed Lady Elliane simply had broad shoulders. Noble fashion, however, demanded a much slimmer silhouette. The gown had been cut to create the illusion of a narrower waist through V-shaped lacing at the sides, while layered fabric around the bodice gave the appearance of a fuller chest.
She couldn’t have looked more different. Hadn’t they said she had no attendant? How had she managed to dress herself up so elegantly in so little time without one?
Suddenly Matthias was very, very glad Laurenz wasn’t there. Hoping he had hidden his surprise from the others, he stepped forward and offered Lady Ellianne a hand.
She looked at it with a strange expression before refusing it. Rising without assistance, she carefully made sure to keep a proper distance between them.
At first, Matthias felt a little dejected. After everything they had gone through together in the mines—and how little she had seemed to mind his presence back then—it stung that she now kept her distance. Then he realized it was probably for the best. He wanted Laurenz’s teasing to end and in her position; Lady Ellianne ought to be careful not to be seen standing close to any man.
“My apologies, I reacted to the scent of bleigift,” he explained, embarrassed.
Wait, no— she is going to think I’m saying she smells!
Lady Ellianne raised an eyebrow behind her veil before sniffing at her own wrist.
“Oh. That would be me. My apologies. I wear clothes made from bleigift so often that the scent no longer leaves my skin. I… I could probably use some perfume if it bothers you?”
“…It doesn’t bother me,” he replied, even though it would probably make their work more difficult.
Though, it wasn’t untrue. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant. Just… unusual.
“Oh, thank the gods,” Lady Ellianne said with a relieved sigh. “Perfume makes me nauseous.”
Matthias blinked, unsure how to respond to that. Then another thought struck him—why could he suddenly sense her mana? He hadn’t been able to at the mine and inside her manor.
Oh. The bleigift—
Those bleigift clothes were supposed to isolate the mana. She had said she had been wrapped in them as a baby to stop herself from leaking mana. If they prevented her mana from escaping completely… He would have to warn Lord Ferdinand. Otherwise they might end up with another silver cloth incident.
“May I ask what brought you to the kitchen at this hour, Lady Ellianne?” Justus asked, showing no sign of suspicion, even though he had probably reached the same conclusion as Matthias.
Damuel bent down to pick up one of the sacks the young noblewoman had dropped.
“Ah!! Oh, thank you, Lord Damuel. Lord Justus, I… I was bringing rohreiz as promised. Aub Alexandria seemed eager to try it, and I wanted to make sure the kitchen had some. I also intended to show the cooks how to whiten it. Oh. Oh no—”
She looked down among the scattered sacks, picked up the small wooden box, and carefully inspected it from every angle.
“Is it broken?” Matthias asked, concerned.
He would hate for his mistake to delay Lady Rozemyne’s much anticipated meal.
“Fortunately, it seems to be fine.” She walked over to the kitchen table and gave Ella and Hugo a small nod. “A pleasure to meet you. I assume you are Aub Alexandria’s personal cooks?”
Both Ella and Hugo froze before hastily giving the formal greeting reserved for nobles. Lady Ellianne chuckled softly and returned a proper greeting of her own before setting the box down in front of them. It resembled a small barrel fitted with a crank handle on both sides.
“I’m afraid it can only process enough rohreiz for two servings at a time. I never took the time to commission a larger version from a proper artisan, so you’ll have to do with my prototype. As for how it works—”
She lifted the lid and accepted one of the sacks Damuel was carrying. Opening it, she measured out roughly two cups of brown grain and poured them into the barrel. After closing the lid, she placed a small feystone into its socket before gripping both crank handles.
“The trick is not to turn both handles at the same speed.”
Taking a deep breath, she began to crank them. As soon as the handle started moving, the box emitted a delicate bell-like melody. The wood lit up, revealing a magic circle that seemed to have been carved directly into its surface.
Looking toward Ella and Hugo, Lady Ellianne said, “Then you simply to sing this:
[Meunier, tu dors, ton moulin, ton moulin va trop vite!
Meunier, tu dors, ton moulin, ton moulin va trop fort…]”
Matthias blinked, his heartbeat quickening. He had no idea what was happening to him and why her voice affected him so strongly. It was lower than the songs noble girls usually sang, yet it was so gentle and soothing! It felt as though he was being embraced by the sound itself! He couldn’t understand a single word she was singing. It was complete nonsense to him, and yet, he found himself wanting to listen forever.
As Lady Ellianne sang, her hands moved with the rhythm, one crank turning slowly whenever the other spun quickly. She repeated the verse five times, changing the tempo each time before stopping abruptly.
Matthias struggled to keep his composure, but he had been so captivated that he had missed at least half of her explanation. By the time his heartbeat finally settled, Lady Ellianne had already turned the barrel box upside down. She twisted the upper half to the left while rotating the lower half to the right, gave the whole thing a vigorous shake, then opened it with a motion reminiscent of cracking an egg.
On one side lay a neat pile of grains as white as ivory. On the other side was nothing but fine brown powder.
“You don’t have to supply it with mana,” she explained. “The feystone I inserted should last several days. Once it’s charged, the tool will work as soon as you sing the melody.”
Hugo and Ella stared at the noble lady as though she had suddenly grown a second head. Finally, Ella spoke up sheepishly, “I… I didn’t quite catch the lyrics. I’m terribly sorry.”
Lady Ellianne blinked several times. “Oh. Oh! Oh right. Hm… That, I suppose… Hm… it should work with any song, as long as it’s the same length…? O-Or I could teach you? Or I suppose you could simply call me whenever you need to use the tool—”
Poor Ella and Hugo immediately went pale at the very idea of summoning a noble into their kitchen.
Justus smoothly stepped in. “Lady Ellianne, this is a very generous offer, but surely you are not seriously proposing such a thing? Besides, we’ll need to inspect the rohreiz you’ve brought first just to make certain it hasn’t been tampered with.”
“Oh… Oh right. I suppose you’re correct. My apologies, it seems I didn’t think this through.”
Justus smiled kindly, though the smile never reached his eyes. “Ella, Hugo, I’ll examine what Lady Ellianne has prepared so that you can at least make a small serving tonight. We wouldn’t want Lady Rozemyne to be disappointed.”
“Thank you!”
“As for the song, I would be delighted to hear the lyrics one more time. I am very interested in your code.”
“I would gladly translate it for you… Basically, the lyrics are: “Miller, you’re asleep, your mill, your mill is going too fast, Miller, you’re asleep, your mill, your mill is going too… Strong? I suppose it doesn’t make much sense once translated, if you sing something of roughly the same length, it should still work… I am afraid, however, that learning the code would take years,” Lady Ellianne replied.
“Then I shall be a very diligent student.”
Justus then turned to Matthias and Gretia and said, “Would you mind escorting Lady Ellianne to the hall? I’m sure Lady Rozemyne and Lord Ferdinand are waiting for her along with the other nobles.”
“Huh…?” Lady Ellianne looked thoroughly caught off-guard. Apprehension crossed her face before she hurriedly concealed it behind a strained smile. “Ye-Yeah. I suppose I don’t have much choice… now that I’ve kept my promise to the aub…Though I do have one more gift for her, I should give it to one of her attendants before—”
Gretia stepped forward and gave a short bow. “I am one of Lady Rozemyne’s attendants. If you have a gift for her, I will receive it, inspect it, and deliver it to her.”
“OH. Oh. Well… I see. Since you are conveniently here as well… Then, I’ll leave it in your care…”
Reaching beneath the tulle of her robes, she withdrew a small pouch. From it, she carefully took out an ordonnanz feystone and a gemstone. It was beautiful. Cut into the shape of a star—a style Matthias had rarely seen—the gem shifted color beneath the kitchen lights, changing from a rich emerald green to an iridescent pink with hints of purple.
“It is called an alexandrite. It’s one of the rarest gemstones found in our mines. I prepared it after Lord Hartmut informed us that the aub would be visiting. There are other color variations as well, so if the aub likes it, we can search for one in shades that suit her better.” She smiled faintly. “I thought it would make an appropriate gift. If the aub wishes, we can ask an artisan to turn it into a piece of jewelry. However, since she has a fiance, I didn’t want to commission something myself and risk offending him. I hope this will please them both.”
Lady Ellianne took a few steps toward Gretia before stopping. Her gaze drifted to Matthias, sending an inexplicable shiver down his spine. Then she turned back to Gretia, a conflicted expression settling over her face.
“My mana…since I’m not wearing my insulating clothes… because of my condition and the curse, some people find my mana a little… disgusting. It is usually men who react that way, though sometimes women do as well… I apologize in advance. Please, bear with it for just a moment.”
Matthias raised an eyebrow. Aside from the scent—which, again, he didn’t find unpleasant—he hadn’t noticed anything of the sort.
Justus, however, immediately looked intrigued. “Really? Might I experience it for myself?”
Lady Ellianne answered a little too quickly, “I would rather not.”
Gretia frowned as Lady Ellianne stepped close enough to hand her the gemstone. The moment the exchange was over, Lady Ellianne promptly put some distance between them. Gretia’s expression eased slightly.
“Thank you for the warning.” Gretia sighed.
She studied the gemstone resting in her hands for a brief moment, her expression hidden beneath bangs. Justus looked as though he wanted to ask how it had felt but refrained himself—for the moment. Instead, he simply sighed.
“Lady Rozemyne will surely be pleased to hear that. She is also awaiting the greeting you promised back at the mine.”
That seemed to finally defeat Lady Ellianne. Her shoulders visibly slumped down.
“Of course…”
She left the kitchen, dragging her feet the whole way.
Gretia raised an eyebrow, carefully stored the gemstone away in a protective pouch, and followed after her. Matthias did the same, just as bewildered as Gretia. Yet, the most surprised of the three was Lady Ellianne herself when she turned around and realized they were following her.
“I… know the way to the reception room. You don’t have to skip your dinner just to escort me.”
“Lord Justus gave us a direct order,” Gretia replied as though that alone settled the matter.
“We’ve already finished eating,” Matthias added, for reasons he preferred not to examine too closely.
I need to ask her about Garlhem, he reminded himself.
“Besides, you shouldn’t be walking around alone without either a knight or an attendant. Especially after everything we’ve learned today.”
People had tried to drug her. Perhaps the intention had merely been to increase her mana production, but it had still been a hostile act, and whatever it had done to Lord Ernest had left him in a jureve. Combined with the mine accident that could easily have claimed her life… It was becoming increasingly obvious that Lady Ellianne was in danger, even if she refused to acknowledge it—or, worse, simply didn’t care.
Matthias found himself hoping it was the former explanation rather than the latter.
“Hm…” Lady Ellianne scratched her cheek, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “Thank you, then. However, please do not walk too close to me. I don’t want people to assume I’m stealing the aub’s retainers. Let’s hurry, then, so you can return to your rightful lady.”
She turned around and resumed walking. As they crossed the garden, however, she occasionally glanced back over her shoulder, as though checking that they were still following.
After a few moments, she eventually asked, “I’ve been curious how is Gerlach. I’ve never left Valvert or even its valley, so I’ve always wondered. Does it have red canyons?”
Matthias almost tripped over his own foot.
