The guild was boisterous, no different from any other day.
Although it was past the time when everyone would have been asleep, the atmosphere of the drinking party was just reaching its peak.
Mikhail, standing guard at the bar as usual, skillfully made a cocktail and served it to the customer ahead.
"Ah, drinks served by men don't taste good. No women? Pretty ladies."
Just as Mikhail was dealing with a heavily intoxicated customer, another bartender entered the bar.
"Mikhail. It's time for the shift change."
Although he was speaking to Mikhail disrespectfully, the look in his eyes as he gazed at him was polite. For there was no one in this guild who would dare be above Mikhail.
Mikhail left the bar and went up to the second floor.
The gentle smile he had displayed in front of the customers vanished, and the light behind his glasses turned cold.
As if waiting for him, a subordinate approached and handed him some documents.
"These are the personal documents of the subject of the investigation. Since he is a Knight of Delmark, it took a long time to travel all the way to Delmark territory."
"Good job."
The subordinate bowed deeply and walked away. Mikhail opened the documents he had received.
The papers concerned the personal details of 'Caligo Elfarind,' whom Blair had commissioned fifteen days ago.
[Abandoned in front of the temple shortly after birth, he was discovered by a priest and taken in, growing up in the temple's orphanage.
He grew up in the temple until he was about thirteen, then joined the Knights of Delmark on the recommendation of Pope Gerard Lumiel.
Afterwards, he went to war alongside the Duke of Delmark… …]
Mikhail, who had been reading the documents with a calm expression, slowly furrowed his brow.
'Why him of all people?'
Caligo Elfarind was entangled with someone Mikhail was not particularly pleased with. Was this really a coincidence?
After reading the documents to the end, he became curious.
Why Blair was investigating this man.
***
"A banquet?"
Blair, strolling through the gardens in the suddenly warming weather, widened her eyes at an unexpected suggestion from Mason.
"Yes. Since the late Duchess passed away, not a single banquet has been held in the past ten years."
"Ah…"
"Now that you seem to have adapted to life at the Duke's estate, I was wondering if you would like to host a banquet to welcome the spring."
A banquet is not merely a day for enjoyment; it is a day to reveal everything about the family to the outside world. Not only wealth, but also the family's atmosphere, the relationship between the head and his wife, and even the family's influence within the Empire, which can be gauged by the attendees.
It is truly a venue to expose the family's entire identity.
In particular, the first banquet held after a new mistress took office held even greater significance. It was a gathering where not only outsiders but also the family's retainers would gauge and judge the new mistress they would serve.
That made it an even more burdensome occasion for Blair.
'Come to think of it, we held a banquet around this time in my previous life, too.'
As a princess, she never had to personally prepare banquets.
Blair was not the type to enjoy boisterous parties, and major events like birthdays or coming-of-age ceremonies were handled by the Imperial Household itself.
The princess had no need to do anything. No matter what kind of party the princess prepared, who would dare judge the Imperial Household's wealth or her, or make a fuss about it?
For Blair, who had lived in such a world, preparing her first banquet was bound to be difficult and clumsy.
'Besides, back then… my health was very poor, too.'
It was a banquet she had prepared with such deep worry and hardship.
At that banquet, Blair happened to overhear her family's retainers slandering her. The reasons were varied. Because the princess had thoughtlessly prepared a banquet that cost a fortune, because she had provided white wine instead of red, because she hadn't prepared a separate banquet for the children…
Those words mercilessly clawed at Blair's heart.
Her chest tightened more at the thought that she had tarnished Herdin and the reputation of Delmark than at the criticism of her own efforts.
But now she knows.
No matter how perfect the banquet was, she knew they would eventually find some excuse to slander her.
It was not the banquet that displeased them; it was her—the daughter of the Imperial family, Katrina.
Therefore, she also knew now that there was no need to be hurt by every single one of their words.
"The Duke's household has run smoothly for the past month thanks to the budget you prepared, Madam. So I believe you will handle the banquet preparations without any difficulty."
When Blair hesitated to answer, Mason assumed she was shrinking back due to her passive nature and praised her abilities.
Reading the meaning behind his blunt yet sincere encouragement, Blair replied readily,
"Yes, it is about time to hold the banquet."
Personally, I had felt some regrets about that banquet, so I wanted to make up for them and do it properly this time.
"I intend to consult historical records, so please prepare them."
"I will have them ready for you to review tomorrow."
Just as Blair was finishing her conversation with Mason, the sound of approaching footsteps was heard. It was Meli.
"Madam, Her Majesty the Grand Empress has summoned you."
It was unexpected news.
***
"Is there any news yet?"
At the first meeting with her daughter personally since the marriage, the first thing Katrina asked about was the pregnancy. It was nothing new to Blair. After all, that was just the kind of person the Mother of the Queen was.
Blair answered calmly,
"No, not yet."
"Are you consummating the marriage regularly?"
"Yes."
Katrina picked up her teacup, which had cooled slightly, and began to speak.
"Men are foolish fellows who only know how to see the reality right in front of them. They only learn fear and how to protect themselves once they have a child hanging around their necks."
The subject of those words was Herdin.
Blair, who had lived as her daughter for twenty years, realized that she wasn't saying this without reason.
Only then did she become curious.
What had the two of them talked about at Katrina's birthday banquet?
"Is something wrong?"
"I hear you've been meeting Countess Laureline regularly lately?"
Blair paused as she held her teacup.
She had no intention of hiding the matter in the first place. It wasn't as if she was doing something she shouldn't have. She was simply doing something that needed to be set right eventually.
However, knowing full well that it was an uncomfortable topic for Katrina, she had simply chosen not to tell her.
"Are you planning to attempt hypnosis as well?"
Knowing that Countess Laureline hadn't attempted hypnosis yet meant she was aware of the progress of the counseling sessions.
And to track that progress, she must have planted someone in the Duke's household.
"...You planted someone?"
"Because I'm worried about you. How do I know the Duke might treat you poorly?"
Katrina showed no effort whatsoever to hide the fact that she had been spying on the Duke's household. On the contrary, she was defiant—as always, under the pretext of a mother's love.
The fact that the sincerity in her eyes was unwavering made the pain in her heart even worse.
'If you worry about your daughter so much, did you just leave her alone in your past life, even after seeing and hearing how isolated she was within the Duke's household?'
Old resentment suddenly pricked like a chestnut burr hidden under a blanket.
Blair suppressed her emotions, feeling as if she were swallowing that stinging burr.
Katrina set down the teacup she had used to moisten her throat and said,
"Go and tell them you're quitting. It's unpleasant to be suspected by my own daughter in this way."
"I'm not suspecting you. I'm just re-examining the parts that were unclear back then."
"You're doubting the testimonies I gave, aren't you?"
Katrina's voice gradually rose. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again as if she were sick and tired.
"I'm sick of it. It's terrible. How long must I be tormented by the ghost of that crazy woman who died ten years ago?"
"Mother."
"What difference does digging into it now make? Do you think that dead woman will come back to life?"
"...."
"She's dead! She went mad with jealousy toward me, to the point of needing medication for neurosis, and she died like that while trying to take her rage out on you."
Blair stared blankly at Katrina, who shuddered at the mere thought of Esmeralda.
She, too, had spent her entire life under suspicion from Herdin and Delmark's retainers regarding Esmeralda's death.
Knowing this, she did not want to rashly suspect Katrina.
Above all, she was afraid—afraid of suspecting her own mother.
On that day ten years ago, Katrina had gone to find Gerard herself to ask for help. She, who never went to see anyone on her own accord, at that late hour—solely to save Blair.
Through that incident, Blair realized that even she, who always put Ivan first, was ultimately her mother.
Ivan and Blair. She was the kind of person who would mercilessly abandon Blair if forced to choose between the two, but her desire to save her daughter back then must have been sincere.
That is why, it seemed, she clung even more to Katrina's love after that incident.
"Even so, Mother loves me."
Leaning on that hope and affection, she sincerely believed it.
No matter how much her mother treated her like a trophy, no matter how much she used her daughter as a stepping stone for her son, she would never have used her daughter's life.
However, seeing Katrina, who was not only reluctant but terrified of regaining her memories, the suspicion she had long ignored began to sprout.
"Mother. If that is the truth, what are you so afraid of?"
A mixture of emotions was reflected in Katrina's eyes as she met hers—anger, betrayal, surprise, and… fear, too.
Reading those emotions, Blair added,
"Please do not oppress me anymore, Mother."
"...."
"If you truly consider me your daughter."
A sense of determination flickered in Blair's eyes as she looked at Katrina, along with a hint of sadness.
She was still afraid of what lay beyond the veil of truth.
However, this time, she had no intention of running away.