“Miss Riersha, why is your hair undone? And why are your eyes so red?”
“Sona.”
The moment Riersha stepped back into her room, she buried herself in Sona’s arms.
Sona wrapped her arms around the girl and gently patted her back, seeming to piece together what had happened without needing to be told.
Her expression hardened. She bent down on one knee and cradled Riersha’s face in her hands.
“Miss, if you’ll permit me.”
Sona looked her over carefully, checking every inch of her. When she confirmed there were no injuries, some of the tension left her face — but her voice remained stiff.
“How dare the collateral branch speak to you that way. What did they say?”
“Mm. Noffing like that.”
Riersha shook her head listlessly, and the certainty in Sona’s eyes only deepened.
It was plain as day that the girl was silently suffering, terrified that her words would cause more trouble for those around her.
“Miss Riersha, you need to tell me the truth. This isn’t something we can simply let go — it’s a serious matter.”
“…”
“Are you worried that the Duke will scold you if he finds out?”
“…”
“Miss Riersha.”
“…I don’t have anyone to protect me.”
The quiet, mournful murmur left Sona at a loss for words.
“What do you mean, no one to protect you —”
“Mm…”
Riersha’s bowed head slowly lifted, and her face came into view — eyes brimming with tears that had not yet fallen.
Even the thought of a disciplinary committee made her stomach clench with fear.
“I made Ivel angry. I did.”
“Ivel… You mean the heir of House Crender?”
“Grandfather won’t take my side.”
The head of a family had to remain neutral. No matter how beloved a granddaughter might be, it was not his place to take sides unconditionally — and with rumors already circulating that Riersha was receiving special treatment, that would be doubly true.
She understood this. And because she understood it, she had no choice but to face this alone.
But facing it alone was far too much to bear.
“Why would you say such a thing? You have the Duke, and you have the young lord.”
Sona smoothed back Riersha’s tangled hair and spoke gently.
But the words brought Riersha no comfort.
Because not one of them had truly stood beside her.
Not even her siblings had once come to visit. And since the areas reserved for the heir were off-limits to her, Riersha had no way of going to them either.
She had been moved from the outer castle into the main estate’s annex, yet she had never once felt welcomed.
“What’s gonna happen if there’s a disciplinary committee…?”
“There won’t be, Miss Riersha. There’s no reason for such a thing when you’ve done nothing wrong.”
“…You really think so?”
“Of course.”
Sona gave a firm, reassuring nod, then gestured toward the snacks she had prepared in anticipation of Riersha’s return.
“Let’s eat something sweet and shake it all off, Miss Riersha. Everything will work out, I promise.”
“Okay.”
The thought of the sweet cake waiting for her lifted her spirits, just a little. The unease hadn’t gone anywhere — but at least there was this small comfort.
And so she focused on the cake, and didn’t notice.
She didn’t notice Sona’s eyes go cold, flickering with something sharp and calculating.
A few days later, a summons to appear before the disciplinary committee arrived at Riersha’s door.
⁂
“We will now call this disciplinary hearing to order. Ivel Crender and Riersha Arachrene, please move to your designated positions.”
Riersha flinched and rose from her seat, taking in the interior of the room — it looked disconcertingly like an actual courtroom.
Ivel strutted toward her and stuck out his tongue with a sneer.
Beside him stood Marquess Crender, present as his guardian.
Riersha’s side was empty.
Sona, as a knight-ranked attendant, did not have the standing to enter.
“Thank you all for attending despite your busy schedules.”
Marquess Crender looked down at Riersha, then smirked and began to speak.
Not a single seat in the jury’s gallery was empty. He had clearly made a point of gathering nobles for this occasion.
Riersha understood then that this was not a simple hearing to settle a dispute between children.
No noble with pressing matters to attend to would show up merely to see the outcome of a children’s quarrel.
Marquess Crender swept his gaze around the room and cleared his throat.
“Ahem. In truth, adults need not involve themselves in children’s squabbles — but there are times when adult intervention is necessary, to set a proper precedent.”
“Quite right.”
Someone voiced their agreement.
The corners of Marquess Crender’s mouth curved with satisfaction.
“Indeed. Above all, we cannot allow injustice to occur simply because one child happens to be of higher rank, can we?”
“Well said.”
“And I’m sure many of you who have entrusted your children’s upbringing to this estate would be concerned as parents.”
Marquess Crender, having shaped the situation to his advantage from the very beginning, smiled with undisguised smugness. Beside him, Ivel straightened his shoulders with an air of triumph.
Riersha could only stare at the floor, her anxiety rising.
Marquess Crender paused for deliberate effect, then spoke with measured precision.
“That is why His Grace the Duke has graced us with his presence here today. We are most grateful for your attendance.”
He emphasized more than once that this gathering had been entirely necessary, then swept into a bow toward Arcmund — exaggerated in its grandeur, yet impeccably proper.
The moment Riersha heard that her grandfather was present, she spun around quickly.
There, in the distance, Arcmund sat watching from above.
He occupied the highest seat in the room, overseeing everything below him.
His gaze swept briefly over Riersha, and his brow furrowed.
“Proceed.”
At the Duke’s gesture, Marquess Crender drew his brows together in a performance of sympathy and lifted Ivel’s palm for all to see.
“Please, everyone, look at this. This is the wound my son Ivel suffered when Miss Riersha pushed him several days ago.”
Ivel spread his hand out wide, making sure everyone could see.
Murmurs of disapproval rippled through the collateral nobles seated as committee members.
“A wound upon a noble’s body — what greater dishonor could there be? And this injury was caused by Miss Riersha herself, who pushed him without warning. Ivel had no way to defend himself. And from what I’ve been told, the young lady left the scene without so much as a word of apology.”
The whispers in the room grew louder.
Riersha’s hands curled into fists.
“Ivel tripped me first! And he grabbed my hair too —!”
“The Duke himself is present. You must not tell falsehoods. Other children have already given testimony that it was you who pushed Ivel first.”
Marquess Crender shook his head slowly. His eyes gleamed with a quiet, unsettling pleasure.
He pointed to Riersha’s tightly clenched fists.
“Do look at those fists. Even now, the young lady shows not a trace of remorse.”
“That’s not true! And Ivel grabbed my hair first!”
“Still refusing to acknowledge your wrongdoing? Look here, Your Grace. Children must be corrected when they err — that is precisely when it matters most. A child who can admit a mistake grows into someone good and worthy.”
Riersha looked around the room.
Every noble present was on Marquess Crender’s side.
No matter how truthfully she spoke, not one of them would hear her.
The realization settled over her like a stone, and her mouth fell shut.
The corners of Ivel’s lips stretched nearly to his ears.
“Now then, Miss Riersha. Please offer Ivel a sincere apology.”
“…No.”
“His Grace the Duke is watching.”
Riersha bit her lip and looked up at Arcmund.
But Arcmund did not spare her even a glance.
“If you apologize, we will let this matter pass quietly, Miss Riersha.”
Marquess Crender softened his voice, as if he were doing her a great favor.
But Riersha only continued to stare at Ivel, her gaze unrelenting, her lips sealed shut.
