Chapter 85: An Unexpected Gift
Vicky entered the room with an innocent expression, as if she knew nothing. Her eyes darted briefly—landing precisely on the desk where Aracila had deliberately spread out her jewels for display.
Vicky’s gaze lingered a moment too long on the glimmering gemstones before she belatedly bowed her head.
“You called for me, Lady Aracila?”
“Vicky, what is your job here?”
“…Pardon?”
“I’m asking what your duties are in this manor.”
Caught off guard by the sudden question, Vicky looked bewildered. Aracila, seated comfortably in her chair, waited leisurely for an answer.
“Ah… well… Currently, I serve as your attendant, my lady. Normally, I help manage the annex, clean the Duchess’s quarters, and run various errands.”
“Is that so? So the Duchess sent you to me as a way of keeping tabs, didn’t she?”
“…I beg your pardon?”
“Did she tell you to attend me just enough to be annoying?”
Vicky’s face stiffened instantly. Quickly grasping the situation, she wiped her expression clean and feigned ignorance.
“I… I don’t know what you mean. Have I displeased you somehow, my lady? If that’s the case, I’ll go to the head maid myself and ask to be reassigned…”
“What did the Duchess promise you in return? A promotion? Money? Hmm… most likely money, I’d say.”
“Lady Aracila, please… I swear, I’ve done no such thing.”
Vicky’s voice trembled, as if she might burst into tears at any moment. Her acting wasn’t half bad, but unfortunately for her, it didn’t work on Aracila.
Aracila extended a hand. In the blink of an eye, a beam of magic shot from her fingertips, brushing past Vicky’s hair before dissipating.
Frozen in place by the sudden threat, Vicky didn’t dare move. Aracila smiled sweetly.
“Do I really need to teach you the hard way that lying won’t help you, Vicky? Tell me what the Duchess ordered you to do, and what she promised in return.”
With her eyes tightly shut, Vicky finally responded.
“If I tell you… I’m as good as dead.”
“You’ll die even if you don’t.”
“Then I’ll tell you!”
Still shaken from the near-miss of Aracila’s magic, Vicky dropped to her knees and shouted.
“Please… just spare me…”
Tears welling in her eyes, she clasped her hands and begged. Aracila gave a satisfied nod.
What the Duchess had ordered Vicky to do wasn’t too far from what Aracila had expected: report on Aracila’s daily routine and movements, and serve her in subtly irritating ways.
What surprised her, though, was that Vicky had been promised nothing in return.
Apparently, since Vicky wasn’t an outsider but an in-house maid already working at the manor, the Duchess hadn’t felt the need to offer anything special.
From the maids’ perspective, the Duchess was an absolute authority—whatever task she assigned, they had no choice but to obey.
‘Actually, this works out better. It’ll be even easier to buy her off this way.’
After all, people are only willing to suffer through hardship if there’s a reward. No one willingly toils for nothing.
Aracila placed a hand on Vicky’s shoulder and helped her to her feet. Leading her toward the desk piled with jewelry, she spoke in a far gentler tone.
“Vicky, if you do me a favor, I’ll give you all of this. What do you say?”
“…W-What kind of favor?”
Just moments ago she had been trembling in fear, but now Vicky stared greedily at the treasure in front of her, swallowing dryly.
Aracila gently patted her shoulder and said soothingly,
“It’s very simple. You know the room on the third floor that belonged to the former Duchess? Bring me the key to that room. From the current Duchess.”
“I can’t do that! Madam hates it when anyone even talks about that room. The maids are strictly forbidden from going near it. If I get caught, I’m dead!”
Startled, Vicky shook her head violently, her face pale with dread.
Given how sensitive the current Duchess was about the room of her predecessor, it was a completely unreasonable request from her perspective.
Aracila raised a brow. If a mere maid was this afraid, there had to be something in that room worth hiding.
Or perhaps it was simply the former Duchess’s lingering presence that was so despised—so much so that the very idea of the room’s existence was intolerable.
‘If she hates it that much, why keep the room at all? Now I want to see inside even more.’
Perhaps the rumored will really was hidden in there.
Smiling brightly, Aracila gripped Vicky’s shoulder a bit more firmly.
“Vicky, what do you think will happen if you say no to my request?”
“…I’ll die, won’t I?”
“Then what should you do?”
“I… I’ll do it.”
Under the weight of a life-threatening choice, Vicky’s face crumpled in despair.
***
Earlier, because Aracila had so unhesitatingly hurled a magic orb, she’d been mistaken for a ruthless sorceress who mercilessly abused magic against civilians.
Of course, Aracila had never once entertained the idea of harming anyone with magic. But she also hadn’t gone out of her way to reassure Vicky.
After all, to control someone—especially someone loyal to another—it always helped to instill a little fear.
***
The Duchess listened to the maids’ reports with a face of bored indifference.
Several days had passed since Aracila had arrived at the ducal estate, yet there had been no reaction of note from her. She simply tolerated the maids’ rude behavior, dealt with the Duke’s family’s provocations with vague civility, and that was it.
The reports all said the same: Aracila spent her time idly in her room or meeting with Damian in displays of affection. Nothing more.
The Duchess furrowed her brow.
“Cunning thing. She’s being careful not to give me any excuse to find fault.”
She recalled how she had summoned all the noblewomen who supported her and exerted pressure on Aracila at a tea party. And yet, the girl hadn’t so much as batted an eye.
‘So young, yet so sly and unflinching.’
Clicking her tongue, the Duchess shook her head.
She had expected Aracila wouldn’t be easy to shake—but still, she had hoped for at least some reaction. The complete lack of it left her vaguely unsatisfied.
The Duchess, having dismissed Aracila’s assigned maids, raised a hand and beckoned one of the maids standing behind her.
“Bring Lady Panning to me.”
“Yes, madam.”
After the maid left, the Duchess gave another order—this time to the head maid.
“Fetch that dress.”
“At once, madam.”
The head maid returned from the dressing room with a white box. The Duchess opened it and examined the dress inside.
It was a faded green dress, of an old-fashioned design. Though slightly worn, it was made from luxurious fabric and still carried a refined elegance.
‘It’s been ages since I last saw this dress.’
The Duchess looked down at it with an expression that could’ve been longing, regret… or disgust.
She folded it carefully and closed the lid again just as Yona arrived, responding to the summons.
“You called, madam?”
“I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Anything, please say the word.”
Yona bowed low, perhaps too low—subservient and eager.
At least part of what she had told Aracila was true: she had indeed fallen from the Duchess’s favor.
She had grown used to being isolated within the narrow confines of the duchy. And now, eager to reclaim her position, Lady Panning was ready to do anything.
“Deliver this dress as a gift to Lady Vandemir.”
“…May I ask what kind of dress it is?”
“Take a good look. You’ll recognize it.”
Yona opened the lid of the box. The moment she laid eyes on the dress, the muscles around her mouth twitched despite her otherwise frozen expression.
The Duchess, noticing the reaction, let out a delighted laugh.
“Why… why are you giving this to Lady Vandemir…”
Yona asked, eyes full of guilt. The Duchess, still smiling sweetly, pressed a hand firmly on her shoulder.
“You only need to do as I say.”
***
Colin came to visit.
Damian hadn’t forgotten to request a background investigation on Lady Panning, and Colin had come to report the results to Aracila.
With his neatly combed hair and thin silver-framed glasses, Colin appeared more intellectual and gentle in person than one might expect.
Though his quiet nature and subdued presence often made that gentleness hard to notice.
After exchanging brief greetings, Colin got straight to the point.
“Lady Panning was once very close with the former Duchess. She often supported her side while she was alive.”
Aracila’s eyes widened slightly at the unexpected information. Colin adjusted his glasses and continued.
“After the current Duchess took her place, Lady Panning was essentially cast out of the duchy’s social circles. Her entire household suffered setbacks.”
Her husband had been demoted, and her child couldn’t find work and eventually left for another region.
It was only because Yona groveled thoroughly after the remarriage that she avoided being completely expelled from the duchy.
For a time, she was treated so harshly she didn’t dare leave her home. Only recently had she begun tentatively reconnecting with a few other noblewomen.
“Still, among those who were close to the former Duchess, Lady Panning is the only one who’s managed to regain some measure of influence.”
With that, Colin completed his report, bowed respectfully, and departed.
Left alone, Aracila sank into thought.
There was no need to be wary of someone who had been close to the former Duchess. But the fact that only Lady Panning had managed to recover her standing—it bothered her.
“If that’s the case, her presence at the Duchess’s tea party back then becomes even stranger.”
No matter how much time had passed, it didn’t make sense for the current Duchess to invite a friend of her predecessor to a gathering.
Knowing her personality, she would have clung to that grudge until her dying breath.
“Unless… Lady Panning approached me under the Duchess’s orders, like Vicky did?”
If so, what was her objective?
Just as Aracila was mulling over these suspicions, a letter arrived from Yona—Lady Panning.
She was asking if they could share a cup of tea together.
After some deliberation, Aracila accepted the invitation.
If you want to discern someone’s intentions, the best way is to face them directly.
***
The next afternoon, the two women met in the drawing room of the lord’s estate.
Aracila had originally suggested visiting the viscountess’s residence, but Yona had politely declined.
She said she had a surprise gift, and it would be too inconvenient to have Aracila come fetch it herself.
When Aracila entered the drawing room at a leisurely pace, Yona, who had been waiting with nervous energy, immediately brightened.
“Have you been well, Lady Vandemir?”
“Yes. And you, Lady Panning?”
“I’ve been well too. Ah—this is the surprise gift I brought you.”
Yona gestured with both arms toward a large, flat box and a long, narrow one placed on the table.
Aracila silently took her seat on the sofa and examined the two boxes.
Yona offered the large, flat one first.
“What is it?”
“Take a look inside.”
Yona wore a strangely stiff smile as she urged her.
Aracila, ready to throw up a protective barrier at the slightest sign of danger, opened the box cautiously.
Fortunately, inside was nothing more than a single dress.
‘It’s a bit old… but it’s pretty, and the quality is good.’
After lightly sifting through the dress, she looked back at Yona. The older woman beamed with exaggerated cheer.
“I thought it would look lovely on you. Take a closer look—just in case it’s not to your taste.”
“What’s in the other box?”
“This? It’s wine. Made from grapes grown in our family’s vineyard.”
Yona, her hand trembling slightly, opened the narrow box and pulled out a wine bottle.
Her hands were shaking so visibly that Aracila frowned without meaning to.
“Are you alright, Lady Panning?”
“Oh… I have a bit of a tremor. Don’t mind it too much. More importantly—would you like a glass?”
Aracila silently observed as Yona, struggling to open the bottle with her shaking hands, continued fumbling with the cork. Then she suddenly spoke.
“I heard you were close with the former Duchess.”
“…!”
Yona’s expression stiffened, if only by a fraction.
Her trembling grew worse—but even so, her hands didn’t stop trying to uncork the bottle.
“As a friend of the former Duchess, it must not have been easy to receive an invitation to the current Duchess’s tea party. How did that happen?”
“…”
“Did the Duchess ask you to approach me intentionally? Promising to overlook your past friendship in return?”
“…”
“These gifts—were they meant to win my favor? Or were they meant to lead me into a trap?”
Her voice remained level and unbothered as she spoke. At those words, Yona shut her eyes tight.
The wine bottle slipped from her grasp.
It struck the table, shattered loudly, and spilled its contents in every direction.
Some of the wine splashed onto the dress.
As the fabric darkened under the liquid, Yona flinched. Aracila sighed softly and called out to the maid waiting just outside.
“You called, my lady?”
“Audrey. Please clean up the broken glass and the spilled wine. And wash the dress carefully—try to keep the stains from setting.”
“N-No! Just… just throw it away. The dress.”
Yona interjected urgently. She couldn’t even look Aracila in the eye.
“No, I can’t possibly throw out something you gave me. Audrey, take it.”
“Yes, my lady.”
With practiced tact, Audrey picked up the dress first and exited the room.
Aracila quietly studied Yona’s now ghost-pale face.
“Will you remain silent, my lady? Continuing to care only for your own safety—even if it means being a little cowardly?”
At Aracila’s deliberately provocative words, Yona’s shoulders jolted with a sharp tremor.
She bit down on her lip and lowered her head deeply. But when she spoke again, her voice was fierce and cutting.
“Think whatever you want, Lady Vandemir.”
“Viscountess Panning.”
“No matter what you say, I won’t regret it.”
From the moment she had chosen to secure her own interests rather than protect the memory of a dead friend, Yona had resolved—she would never allow herself to regret that choice.
She suddenly rose to her feet and, almost fleeing, rushed out of the drawing room.
As if being chased by something invisible, she moved so quickly that there wasn’t even time to stop her.
Aracila remained seated, momentarily stunned by the abruptness, and only belatedly stood to follow after her.
But she didn’t get the chance—someone entirely unexpected stepped into the drawing room at that exact moment, blocking her way.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ───
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