“Why not?! Everyone always says they suffer so much…” Baroness Heronia’s voice wavered as her gaze drifted in confusion.
At the same time, I gently drew a distracted Bertia closer by her waist. She murmured softly, “Ah, ah, I must be put in my place…” I lightly kissed her forehead and smiled while tilting my head, encouraged her to let it go.
“Miss, shall we take your ‘objection’ as withdrawn then?” I suggested gently.
“Not yet! I intended to report this privately, but…” Baroness Heronia crouched down, reaching beneath her dress to retrieve a thick envelope.
… Keeping items under one’s skirt is quite improper, Baroness Heronia.
Even if she has no other place to store it, retrieving items from such a location is unbecoming of a lady. Look, others are even doing a double take at the sight.
“Your Highness, please take this…” She held out the envelope to me.
I hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to accept something that had just been pulled from beneath a skirt.
My hesitation naturally arose from the question, “Should I really handle something that just emerged from beneath someone else’s skirt?” While touching items belonging to a lover or fiancée is one thing, dealing with something from a stranger’s skirt is an entirely different issue.
Nonetheless, I had no intention of stepping down from the stage or beckoning Baroness Heronia closer.
Believing that we had to find a way to overcome this standoff, I quickly looked at Zeno for help.
Having foreseen this situation, Zeno had already shifted closer to the stage, away from the servants who were by the wall. He took the envelope from Baroness Heronia and handed me the stack of papers inside it.
“… I understand,” I said softly while scanning the documents—it was a comprehensive report on Marquis Noches, information I was already familiar with. It didn’t surprise me that Baroness Heronia had commissioned someone to investigate the Marquis.
As Bertia watched the papers in my hands, her curiosity shone through her anxiety. She quickly looked at the pages and gasped softly, her face turning even paler. Noticing her unease, I passed the documents to Zeno to shield them from her view and signaled silently for him to deliver them to my father.
Bertia lowered her head quietly, murmured something regarding “coercive force.” I softly ran my fingers through her hair and whispered, “Everything will be fine.”
She had been hoping for this situation to unfold. However, the anxiety of potentially losing something valuable, even with her readiness, felt overwhelming.
As I held her tightly, she fought to stay brave until the very end, her petite body shaking as she grasped my clothes.
… Poor thing, so frightened.
Simultaneously, I felt a sense of relief in recognizing that she genuinely did not want that kind of future.
When did I become so cruel?
“—And?” I turned to Baroness Heronia, who was ready to share her thoughts.
“The documents I just gave you are the result of my own investigations. As you can see, they serve as evidence of Marquis Noches’ crimes! A criminal’s daughter cannot be permitted to become your wife, much less the future queen of this country!”
“So, you propose that due to the Marquis’s ‘crimes,’ I ought to punish her and end Miss Bertia’s engagement to me?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted my father and Marquis Noches reviewing the stack of papers handed to them by Zeno. My father’s eyes sparkled with mockery, while the Marquis’s revealed a flicker of anger. Nonetheless, both maintained their composure, a hallmark of seasoned leaders who had long governed the nation.
Meanwhile, the audience—consisting of students, parents, and faculty—seemed disturbed by the accusation made against such a respected figure.
“—Look, Miss. The documents you’ve provided are certainly well-researched and seem to indicate serious crimes,” I said with a smile, gently stroking Bertia’s head. Baroness Heronia’s face lit up with a triumphant grin upon hearing my words.
In that moment, I felt an internal chill wash over me. Bertia, nearby, must have noticed the shift. She gazed at me with intensity, her expression twisting as she tensed up.
I drew her closer, ensuring she couldn’t step back, and whispered, “I’m not angry with you,” yet her stiffness did not ease.
I kept conversing with Baroness Heronia.
“… However, these do not serve as proof of Marquis Noches’ crimes; instead, they provide evidence against Viscount Consabtier, Count Connery, and Baron Sagir, correct?”
Upon hearing this, Count Connery and Baron Sagir, who were part of the audience, turned pale. Their children fidgeted anxiously as well.
People in the vicinity started to distance themselves, likely out of fear of being involved. Before long, a noticeable space emerged around them. Observing this, my father discreetly gestured to the knights guarding the venue. In no time, the knights had apprehended the Count and the Baron, preventing their escape.
Baroness Heronia cast a challenging look at Bertia and Marquis Noches.
“Yes, these are proof of their crimes and also evidence linking them to Marquis Noches,” she stated.
Bertia’s face soon filled with tears as she glanced between Marquis Noches and Baroness Heronia. The Marquis smiled, yet his eyes were devoid of joy, fixed on Baroness Heronia with an icy stare. His silence stemmed not from an inability to speak but from a deliberate decision to leave the situation in my hands.
At times, I noticed a glance from him that appeared to communicate, “Your Highness, put an end to this absurdity for my poor daughter’s sake.”
I focused on Baroness Heronia and asked, “Just because someone is linked to a criminal, it doesn’t mean they are automatically guilty, right?”
“That might be the case… However, Lord Kulgan must be aware of Marquis Noches’ misdeeds! He has endured the Marquis’ tyranny, as they are related, for quite some time,” she hesitated briefly before asserting herself once more. Turning to Kulgan, who was beside me, she nodded energetically, motivating him to vent years of pent-up frustration.
Everyone focused on Kulgan as deep lines etched his forehead. “I don’t recall ever discussing these issues with you, and I’ve never entertained such ideas. My rapport with Marquis Noches has consistently been friendly and continues to be so,” he replied calmly.
Baroness Heronia’s eyes widened in disbelief. “That can’t be! You’ve always shared so much with me…”
“You’ve been forming negative assumptions about Marquis Noches by yourself. I remember feeling uneasy and disregarding your speculations, but I’ve never supported them,” Kulgan responded, his stare sharper than normal, even for someone whose demeanor typically appeared frosty.
Baroness Heronia insisted, “You’re lying! You’ve suffered at the hands of Marquis Noches for years!”
“I’m informing you that no such fact exists. Please end this now.”
Kulgan conveyed his dissatisfaction clearly, redirecting his gaze away from Baroness Heronia. It appeared she had genuinely misinterpreted the situation. I observed calmly as everything transpired according to my plan, remaining emotionally detached throughout.
Baroness Heronia was much like Bertia. She believed in a story that supposedly followed the “scenario” of an “otome game.” Because of this belief, she tended to interpret things in a way that suited her, pushing the narrative in her favor based on this assumption. If we had outright denied her premise, she might have realized it wasn’t functioning. However, by not correcting her misunderstanding, there was a greater likelihood that she would continue to hold onto that same mistaken belief. After all, it’s surprisingly difficult for anyone to recognize their own misconceptions.