Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 38

3

When Eirik opened his eyes, Miesa was nestled in his arms.

The sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtains, gently illuminating her face. Eirik gazed at her for a long while, her delicate features seeming to shimmer in the morning light.

Her eyes, swollen from crying so much last night, her lips, chapped and bruised from his kisses, and her breath, faintly tinged with the scent of alcohol—all of it was too precious and pitiful to leave behind.

How much of her heart had she entrusted to him? Eirik kissed her forehead tenderly, hoping that the process of opening up hadn’t left her with more scars.

Miesa whimpered, her delicate brow furrowing slightly. Eirik, glad that she found comfort sleeping in his arms, gently patted her.

“Shh, go back to sleep. You must be tired.”

Had it not been for the paper the butler handed over after knocking on the bedroom door at the right time, Eirik would have stayed in bed, lounging until Miesa woke up.

The note contained alarming information. After washing up reluctantly, Eirik gave strict instructions to Vallek, Cullen’s brother, who was waiting in the corridor.

“Let me know as soon as she wakes up.”

To return to her quickly, he needed to handle his business efficiently. Eirik strode purposefully towards his office in the knights’ quarters.

A knight, assigned to tail someone, was already waiting there to report.

“As you instructed, I looked into the Crispin Marquisate, and it turns out the old woman is the mother of their deputy knight commander.”

“The deputy commander…”

Eirik knows of him—a man of great skill but rough methods, unable to ascend to the commander’s position due to his commoner origins.

“She’s been handling the family’s dirty work for generations. Her father was executed for rape and assault, though it was said he took the fall for the marquis’ crimes.”

“The family has handled House Crispin’s dirty work for generations. The father was executed for rape and assault, but it’s said he took the blame for the master’s deeds.”

“Yet they still harbor loyalty to Crispin?”

“More concerned with the competent son’s future than avenging the incompetent father, I suppose.”

The knight shrugged and continued with the details he had gathered overnight.

“It appears the old woman also has extensive connections with the thieves’ guild. The men who attacked Gella were from the Falciarc Guild, led by her brother.”

“I see.”

It confirmed Crispin’s involvement in everything. Eirik closed his eyes briefly. What reason could House Crispin have?

Why would they push for a marriage alliance with his family, using a woman to ensnare his father, and collude with royal maids to kidnap Gella and attach scandal to him?

What benefit did they gain from this? The heirship of the Cladnier family? Or the downfall of Cladnier?

“Bring me the latest information on Crispin’s movements.”

As Cullen retrieved documents from the safe, Eirik’s mind continued to race.

One question lingered in his mind. He couldn’t fathom why Crispin would go to such lengths.

And today, another thing started to bother him. These people were very easy to track down in just a few days; their tactics were shallow. But why was it so difficult to uncover the identity of a barmaid in the border village?

There was an inconsistency in their methods. As Eirik tapped the armrest of his chair, a new hypothesis formed in his mind.

What if they were not the masterminds?

The reason House Crispin proposed a marriage alliance was treason. What if all these events were merely bait?

If Crispin was being used just like Cladnier, who could be the real mastermind?

“Commander, a servant from the mansion is here,” a squire peeked in from the doorway to inform him.

“The young madam is coughing, sir. I was told to notify you immediately. Is that correct?”

Eirik opened his eyes. There was only one person who could be the mastermind behind all these events.

That morning, Miesa was woken up by a shrill voice.

“Oh my, isn’t this a sight. Look at this.”

“Ugh. This is just…”

Pointy and Big seemed to have discovered the remnants of last night. Miesa’s eyes instinctively narrowed.

It was very unpleasant, but it was fortunate in a way. At least things had come to this. Thinking this, Miesa turned over and buried her face in the pillow.

“Well, this is just perfect timing. I’ll go get it right away.”

What could be so perfectly timed? Even in her half-asleep state, Miesa pricked up her ears.

Pointy seemed to head somewhere but returned shortly, and the two maids resumed their talking.

“Ever since we got rid of that commoner woman, the guards have been in an uproar. Why do they have to ask so many questions?”

“You brought everything? That must have been heavy.”

Big scowled at Pointy, then turned and pulled Miesa to her feet, roughly.

“Move quickly. You’re not a slug.”

“Be gentle. If her madness flares up, it’ll be a hassle.”

Surprisingly, Pointy intervened with a seemingly kind tone and then quickly headed towards the bathroom. Of course, Big’s grip did not loosen in the slightest.

Dragged almost against her will, Miesa found the bathroom filled with all sorts of items. The clothes and accessories she wore when she first arrived at the Cladnier mansion, along with various cosmetics, were laid out.

“Starting today, our mornings will be busy,” Pointy said in a coaxing tone.

“You can’t afford to lose your husband’s attention, can you?”

The feigned kindness in her voice made Miesa feel sick, but she skillfully pretended not to care, thinking how absurd the situation was.

Today, the maids were particularly quick, washing and drying her in no time.

“Do we need to do her hair too?”

“Just do it roughly.”

A white dress was put on her. Miesa scratched her chin, smirking weakly at the absurdity of being treated like a monkey.

“Oh, everything’s been nibbled and sucked on.”

Unlike her usual clothes, this one revealed her neck and shoulders, showing off the red marks clearly.

Pointy, frowning, gave an order to Big. “Hold her straight.”

“Yes.”

Then, with hurried hands, Pointy began applying powder to Miesa’s face. As the white powder flew around, Miesa giggled, opening her mouth each time the puff came close.

“Oh, you… Never mind. It’s fine.”

Today, she seemed unusually lenient. Finding this strange, Miesa observed Pointy, who pulled out a small porcelain jar from her pocket and opened the lid, revealing a red-tinted cosmetic inside.

“There’s no brush.”

“Oh no, what should we do?”

“No, it’ll be fine. We don’t have a choice since we’re in a hurry.”

“As expected, Mrs. Maleca, you’re amazing.”

As Miesa was staring into the air, laughing to herself, something touched her lips. Instinctively, she jerked her head away.

“Don’t move, you!”

Pointy’s face, now right in front of her, looked grotesque. The hand holding the cosmetic trembled slightly.

Suspicious.

Already on high alert, Miesa reacted without thinking, pushing with all her might. With a piercing scream, Maleca was thrown backward.

“Aagh! This, this brat!”

Miesa tried to turn and run, but Big quickly caught her. She struggled to break free, but it was no use.

Why are they so determined? Miesa’s eyes darted around the room. At that moment, Maleca, who had fallen to the floor, snapped in a frustrated tone, “Where is it? Where… Ah, found it.”

Mumbling, she picked up the porcelain jar she had been searching for.

Miesa’s suspicion turned to certainty. There couldn’t be anything more urgent than taking out her frustration on Miesa with a slap.

Cosmetics, lip rouge.

Something clicked in Miesa’s mind. Could it be that the ‘overly cautious’ family had ‘brought’ something?

Whatever it was, she needed to buy time. Taking a deep breath, Miesa screamed at the top of her lungs, “Kyaaa, mmmph!”

Big twisted her arm behind her back and covered her mouth.

Miesa kicked out wildly, knocking over anything in her reach, causing a cacophony of crashes as items hit the tiled bathroom floor. She was quickly forced to her knees, but fortunately, someone beyond the door heard the commotion.

“Young madam! Are you in there?”

It was Gella. Maleca’s eyes narrowed as she recognized the voice and whispered, “What? Why is she here?”

Hearing Gella’s voice, whom they thought had been dealt with by Crispin, caused the two maids to freeze. In the ensuing silence, there was a clinking sound from outside the door.

“Huh? What’s this? The door is locked. Young madam!”

Gella, ever impatient, pounded on the door, followed by a string of curses, “Damn it. My legs are giving out. Sir Vallek! Get over here quickly!”