Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 58

“Her hair was cut. She’s been ordered to remain in the basement until it grows back,” said Margravine Cladnier, staring at the flowers in the vase with an empty expression.

“I asked her why, but she couldn’t give me a satisfactory answer.”

Margravine Cladnier assumed that Edil harbored resentment due to Eirik’s instructions.

Eirik’s bitter smile suggested he had a better understanding. Margravine Cladnier decided not to inquire further. If a leader couldn’t fathom the resentment and its cause among their subordinates, it would be a matter of incompetence. But knowing the reason meant it was a matter of gaining experience and wisdom, something he could build on. Therefore, she saw no need to intervene.

“I should have ensured your authority as the new Margrave, but I failed. I’m sorry,” Margravine Cladnier said softly.

Eirik gave her a reassuring smile. “Mrs. Edil has served you for fourteen years. I understand.”

“Yes, she started at fifteen and served for fourteen years. I should have sent her off when she refused to marry. I can’t keep someone with ulterior motives…”

Margravine Cladnier’s face was pale.

“No, it’s pointless to worry about someone who’s no longer ours. Whatever treatment Edil receives when she returns to her family is none of my concern now.”

“It seems this incident has affected you more than Father’s scandal, hasn’t it?” Eirik teased gently.

Margravine Cladnier looked at him thoughtfully, then chuckled, shaking her head. “Was that a joke? Next time, give me a warning. I had to ponder whether it was appropriate to laugh.”

“Like this?” Eirik touched his nose, signaling a lie.

Margravine Cladnier’s smile widened. “You’ve changed, Eirik. You can joke now.”

Eirik hesitated, then stopped, and Margravine Cladnier’s smile grew. “It’s good. Even as Margrave, you need to laugh and breathe.”

“……”

Eirik, sitting silently, spoke of his next concern. “Miesa is unwell. Gella might not be enough. Could you assign someone trustworthy to assist her?”

“Miesa?” Cladnier’s expression turned serious. Eirik waved a hand to reassure her.

“She had a fever last night but is better now. I can’t stay by her side all the time, so we need more help.”

“I see. But finding someone trustworthy… After Edil, it’s difficult.”

“Is that so.”

“Perhaps it’s better to give Gella the room next to your chamber and have her stay there. I’ll check in occasionally.”

“Mother, yourself?” Eirik felt it unnecessary but didn’t object. There was a more pressing matter to discuss.

“There’s one more thing I need to discuss with you.”

They were alone in the living room, but Eirik lowered his voice, indicating the subject’s sensitivity. Her mother straightened up, sensing the importance.

“Tilberg said something to me that day.” Eirik relayed Tilberg’s message. Margravine Cladnier clicked her tongue in disbelief.

“Harvest Festival, hunting tournaments. So, he wants us to endure monthly humiliations. All for a royal family that’s only been around for a century, while Cladnier has stood for 350 years.”

“What do you think?” Eirik asked.

“I’d like to hear your opinion first,” Margravine Cladnier replied, studying him intently.

“The king intends to undermine our family regardless. Enduring a few public shames won’t solve the issue,” Eirik stated firmly.

This matched her mother’s thoughts. Eirik continued, “Crispin’s finances are questionable. They won’t be able to pay the full compensation and will likely attempt negotiations.”

Eirik laid out his detailed plan, addressing potential issues with pre-thought solutions. Her mother, listening intently, nodded gradually.

“Your demand for Nieas Harbort’s use now makes sense. It’s a solid plan,” she acknowledged with a satisfied smile.

Margravine Cladnier, understanding her role, responded with a satisfied smile, “I suppose I’ll have to go around our social gatherings, lamenting our situation.”

“I trust you’ll handle it well,” Eirik said, a hint of admiration in his voice.

“To hear that from you is quite something,” she replied, her voice holding amusement, but her eyes remained sharp.

“And after that? I’ve heard from our contact in the ducal house that Grand Duke Hagail is nearly incapacitated,” Margravine Cladnier said, her tone turning serious.

“A figurehead will suffice for now,” Eirik responded.

“Rebellion for rebellion’s sake. We can manage with a figurehead, but governance will be challenging,” she cautioned.

“The king only makes decisions. Currently, all key positions are held by Vermel’s men. We’ll need new faces,” Eirik explained.

“Such as?”

Eirik named several families. Margravine Cladnier nodded but questioned the last name.

“The head of Salakaze. Didn’t you say you were unsure about him?” she asked.

“I plan to test his worth,” Eirik replied.

“Fine. The other families are minor enough to contact discreetly. I heard your father knew someone from the Rabiate family.”

“How is Father?” Eirik asked, remembering his father’s condition.

“He refused to go to the estate and eventually fell ill.”

“…I see,” Eirik replied, swiftly moving on from his father to the next topic.

***

“What are you doing?” Miesa’s voice startled Gella, who had been trying to turn Miesa’s body over for the third day in a row.

“Oh my! Young madam, you’re awake? If you lie in the same position for too long, you can develop bedsores. I was just trying to turn you over,” Gella explained.

“What are bedsores?” Miesa asked.

Gella explained, and Miesa nodded, sitting up. “So that’s what it’s called. Anyway, thank you.”

Gella, sensing a change in Miesa’s demeanor, hesitated before getting off the bed. She then asked if Miesa wanted to eat.

“Yes, bring it to me,” Miesa replied.

“Young madam, you seem different,” Gella remarked.

“I’ve been practicing in my head while lying here,” Miesa said with a slight, elegant smile. She gracefully stepped off the bed and began to walk slowly around the room, casually flipping her disheveled hair over her shoulder. Gella gaped at her in amazement and asked again.

“There were only words in the books. Where did you learn those movements?”

“I’ve seen them throughout my life, here and there.”

“Can you really do that all of a sudden?”

“Well, if you don’t find it awkward, then it’s a success.”

“It feels so strange and unfamiliar,” Gella said, swallowing the word “impressive.” The person in front of her truly looked like a princess straight out of the royal palace, and she feared she might get scolded for any disrespect.

“What about the meal?” Miesa asked as she sat down on the sofa.

Gella hurriedly ran outside to ring the bell.

“Did something change your mind?” Gella asked.

Miesa moved the spoon with an elegant gesture. Since she was still recovering, she had just started on a thick broth.

“How has the Lord been? Has anything unusual happened?” Miesa asked.

“Um… is that how you’re going to refer to him now?”

“The etiquette book says to address him that way,” Miesa replied, avoiding the question.

She didn’t want to delve into the memories of the palace that day. She was tucking them away, locking them in a heavy box in her mind to ignore completely.

However, she noticed that Eirik seemed quite angry. She thought it might be good to perfectly organize her behavior according to his wishes, hoping to please him somehow. She couldn’t understand why his attitude had changed so quickly, so she was doing her best to be agreeable in any way she could.

As Miesa’s empty eyes stared into space, Gella hurriedly changed the subject.

“The Lord was very worried about you. He stayed by your side and nursed you all night…”

Of course, he hadn’t visited as often afterward. Today, it was already late afternoon, and he still hadn’t shown his face.

“He’s suddenly become very busy and is often out,” Gella continued.

“Yes, he’s always been a busy man. We heard together that he will inherit the title of Margrave next year,” Miesa said.

“Ah, yes… Yes, that’s right,” Gella blinked. Not only the tone of voice but her entire demeanor was so different that she could hardly believe what she was seeing. The person she once silenced by putting a pecan in her mouth while eavesdropping on Margrave and Margravine’s conversation was now acting completely differently.

“Young madam, can you… switch your mind like that?”

Miesa wrinkled her nose and laughed, “Haha, haha,” before returning to a blank expression. Gella shook her head in disbelief.

“I have to keep acting like this in front of others. Why?” Miesa asked.

“It’s just hard to believe. Even theater actors aren’t this good,” Gella replied.

“They do it for money; I do it to live,” Miesa said.

“Ah, yes…”

A moment of silence passed. Miesa continued to eat her soup nonchalantly, but Gella found the silence heavy.

“Oh, so… did the Lord get very angry then?” Gella blurted out.

Oops. Silence would have been better. The expression vanished from Miesa’s face as she looked at Gella.

“I don’t know,” Miesa replied.

“Would you like some of this?” Gella offered, hurriedly presenting steamed carrots and squash, but Miesa’s gaze stayed fixed on her face. Gella pursed her lips and looked away, but the question came quickly.

“Why do you think the Lord was very angry with me?” Miesa asked.

“What? Oh, um… it’s just that his expression that day… But I might have been mistaken.”

“Don’t evade the question. Tell me,” Miesa insisted.

Gella hesitated before speaking up.