CHAPTER 127: Just show it through results (1)

After finishing their conversation with Marquis Branford, Ghislain and his companions followed the butler to find Rozalin.

Soldiers were stationed all over the marquis' mansion, as if to warn them not to even think of escaping.

Belinda, who kept glancing nervously at the soldiers, tugged on Ghislain's sleeve and whispered.

"Young master! What were you thinking? How did things get this out of hand?!"

Showing up unexpectedly and offering to treat his daughter's illness in exchange for a favor—such a proposal would be shocking to anyone.

'No, he's always been like this. But this time, his choice of opponent is terrible. Forcing a deal with one of the kingdom's most powerful figures!'

Some nobles are so severe that they behead their servants for the slightest mistake.

The more powerful a noble, the more ruthlessly they behave.

'This isn't like the Magic Tower. At least mages don't casually kill nobles….'

And crucially, Marquis Branford didn't need Ghislain's help the way the Magic Tower did.

'Ugh, I let my guard down because it's been quiet lately.'

With Ghislain succeeding at every turn recently, Belinda had grown complacent, trusting that whatever he did would turn out fine.

'I should have stopped him and asked what was going on before coming to the marquis' mansion!'

Belinda bit her nails as she glared at Ghislain.

Meanwhile, Gillian lowered his head to hide his gaze as he surveyed escape routes.

"If things start to go wrong, please let me know. I'll lead the way out."

Despite everyone's worries, Ghislain only smiled.

Seeing his confident smile, the others could only sigh.

All they could do was hope he'd somehow succeed, as usual.

Claude began devising a backup plan, thinking of using the marquis' daughter as a hostage if things went south.

'Judging by the marquis' personality, that might not work…but still, just in case.'

Researching a potential hostage is fundamental.

Marquis Branford was famous enough that even Claude, from another kingdom, knew of him.

But he didn't know much about the marquis' daughter, Rozalin.

Claude cautiously asked the butler walking beside him.

"Excuse me…what is the young lady like?"

"Coming from the north, I suppose you wouldn't know. She was quite renowned in the capital."

"For what?"

Claude clenched his teeth slightly. He hoped it wasn't for swordsmanship or magic; taking her hostage would be much harder if it was.

With a look of pity, the butler continued.

"She's been extremely intelligent since childhood. She personally handled the household affairs in place of the Marchioness who had returned to her parents' house."

"But did she handle anything besides household matters?"

The butler frowned, his tone scolding.

"How could you belittle a noble family's events as mere household matters! Do you have any idea how challenging it is for an overseer to manage a noble house?"

"Ah…sorry…"

Claude scratched his head and mumbled. The butler glared at him before continuing his explanation.

"Ahem, besides that, she sponsors various organizations."

The butler proudly began listing Rozalin's accomplishments.

"If I may tell you about our young lady…"

Ghislain's aides couldn't hide their astonishment as they listened to the butler.

The titles attached to her name were numerous, almost unimaginable for a single person.

'Patron of the Cardenia Textile Guild.'

'Patron of the Cardenia Stonemason Guild.'

'Patron of the Cardenia Carpentry Guild.'

'Patron of the Cardenia Sculptor Guild.'

'Patron of the Cardenia Glasswork Guild.'

'Patron of the Cardenia Natural Philosophy Society.'

'Patron of the Cardenia Astronomy Society.'

'Former vice-president of the Gentlewomen's Literary Society.'

'Former vice-president of the Gentlewomen's Tea Appreciation Society.'

…and so on.

From natural sciences to literature, arts, and philosophy, her influence was widespread.

Even after falling ill, she continued her sponsorships and involvement in management.

Claude kept his mouth shut, darting his gaze back and forth.

'So we're going to treat someone like that, huh? If things go wrong, we're all as good as dead.'

As if he had more to say, the butler's tone grew even more enthusiastic.

"And her temperament? She's always calm, gentle to everyone, and has a heart so kind and delicate she wouldn't utter a harsh word."

"A kind heart, you say? That's reassuring to hear."

Claude's eyes lit up. If her personality was that gentle, she might forgive a slip-up.

"Indeed. She regularly donates essentials to the needy in the capital. Were it not for her illness, she'd be doing even more."

Ghislain's aides, now captivated by the butler's words, murmured in admiration.

She was an extraordinary person indeed. She held almost as much power as her father, Marquis Branford.

But Ghislain appeared indifferent, as if he already knew everything—or perhaps didn't care at all. It seemed he wasn't even listening.

Claude glanced at him, sighing.

'Where does he get that confidence?'

Claude couldn't understand Ghislain's occasional swagger.

Still, it was a small relief that the young lady had a good temperament.

Belinda, a bit more relaxed, asked in a softer voice.

"But…I heard she's about to get married? Is she still going through with it, even though she's unwell?"

Countless people closely monitored every move of the Branford marquisate.

Rumors of the marquis' daughter's impending marriage had already spread throughout the capital.

Even Ghislain's party, who had only recently arrived, was aware.

In response to Belinda's question, the butler replied with a hint of displeasure.

"To be honest, if not for her health, a family like theirs wouldn't be considered. The young lord she's to marry is infamous in the capital…but, ahem, I shouldn't say more."

"Oh, so she's marrying someone she doesn't like because of her illness?"

"Well, it's not solely because of that…"

The butler trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

Claude clicked his tongue inwardly and changed the subject.

"Still, if she's a good person, she'll likely get along with her husband. Having such a remarkable person is a blessing for the marquis house. Ha ha."

The butler, who had been speaking continuously in praise, suddenly looked downcast.

"…She used to be, yes."

"…?"

Before Claude could ask what he meant, they arrived outside Rozalin's room.

Knock, knock.

The butler tapped lightly on the door. A soft voice replied from inside.

"…What is it? It's too early for a meal."

Hearing her voice, Claude felt a strange unease.

It was a low, subdued voice as if suppressing emotion, filled with an inexplicable sense of resentment and anger.

'Something's odd. Why does her voice sound like that?'

Claude wasn't the only one who sensed the oddness.

Ghislain also furrowed his brow and tilted his head slightly.

The butler, trying to dispel the awkward atmosphere, cleared his throat and spoke loudly.

"You have visitors, young lady."

"…Visitors?"

"By the marquis' orders, a baron named Fenris is here to tend to your skin."

"…Send him away."

Her voice was laced with irritation.

But the butler couldn't leave just like that.

The marquis had already ordered Ghislain to begin treatment. No one in the estate could defy that command.

Not even Rozalin herself.

The butler sighed deeply and spoke again.

"It's the marquis' command."

"…I said, send him away."

"I apologize, but I'm opening the door. Everyone, be cautious."

"What? What do you mean, 'cautious'…?"

The butler closed his eyes tightly and flung the door open, immediately darting behind it.

The servants quickly took cover behind the butler.

Whoosh!

As soon as the door opened, something flew out from the darkened room at high speed.

"Huh?"

Ghislain tilted his head slightly, his expression puzzled.

The object shot past his face and headed straight for Claude behind him.

"Ugh!"

Claude flinched and closed his eyes, but Wendy quickly caught the object mid-flight.

"A candlestick?"

In Wendy's hand was a candlestick adorned with ornate decorations.

If it had struck his face, Claude would've been seriously hurt.

He let out a dry laugh.

'What the—she's supposed to be gentle and kind?'

This was a far cry from kindness, but rather a violent greeting.

A noble lady would never act this way in front of others.

It would bring shame not only to herself but also to her family.

Yet the marquis' daughter did this without hesitation!

The butler coughed awkwardly and offered an excuse.

"Ahem, normally, she's not like this… Lately, she's been a bit on edge…"

'If you dodged it so naturally, this isn't the first time, is it?'

The servants huddled close behind the butler, trembling.

Claude squinted his eyes at the butler, who looked away awkwardly.

Just as he was about to speak, a sharp voice echoed from within the room.

"I told you to go away! Another treatment? Just leave me alone!"

Whoosh!

Objects kept flying from the dark room—candlesticks, books, cups, dishes, frames, vases, incense holders—anything heavy was hurled indiscriminately.

The butler and servants remained pressed against the wall, out of harm's way, while the barrage of objects was directed at Ghislain's group.

But they weren't ordinary people; they dodged or deflected each item with ease.

A startled voice came from within the room.

"Who are you? Who are you?! Do you want to die? Get out before I tear you apart! Butler, what are you doing? Call the soldiers!"

The supposedly refined lady was now shouting violent threats.

"Hmmm..."

Ghislain was genuinely taken aback.

None of the records from his past life mentioned Rozalin Branford having such a temper.

Everyone else in the group was equally bewildered, staring blankly at the butler.

The butler subtly closed the door again, coughing awkwardly.

"Ahem, perhaps we should give her some time to cool down."

Claude couldn't hold back any longer.

"Didn't you say she was kind-hearted and well-mannered? You said she never uses harsh words!"

"…That was before, yes."

"What?"

"Before she became ill, she was practically an angel. I assure you."

"Wow…this is unbelievable."

The butler's unshaken loyalty seemed remarkably shameless. Claude was at a loss for words.

She was so temperamental, yet they stood by her simply because she was their lady.

Soon, the room grew quiet. The butler offered an uneasy smile.

"She must have calmed down by now."

Creeeak…

The butler cautiously opened the door.

Fortunately, nothing came flying this time.

Ghislain and his companions cautiously surveyed the room.

A woman stood in the darkness, her back to the light.

Her clothing was surprisingly plain, unfitting for a marquis' daughter.

A mask covered her face, gloves hid her hands.

As the light from the hallway illuminated her mask, piercing eyes glared out from behind it.

Gulp.

Everyone swallowed nervously, hesitant to step inside.

Rozalin spoke slowly, her voice laced with restrained emotion and blanketing the room in tension.

"Leave. Before I kill you all."

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