Chapter 33
No One Ever Does It Just Once
“It’s a setup, my lord! I swear, I’m being framed!”
After Chiara and I accused Bartolo, he revealed just how skilled he was at political maneuvering.
“You can’t punish the Marquis’s aide on circumstantial evidence alone!”
“If anything, that maid looks more suspicious!”
“Even if someone says Bartolo tampered with the documents, that doesn’t make him a spy!”
As the tension grew, it became clear who was truly on his side.
“The party was a success,” one of the nobles murmured. “Let’s not make a scene and move on quietly.”
They wanted to bury the incident. If they were true retainers, they would have demanded a proper investigation.
Unable to hold back any longer, Chiara stepped forward.
“Father, we can’t just overlook this! He touched documents I never authorized, and there’s plenty of reason to suspect he’s a spy! Not to mention—he hit my aide!”
Her tone was sharper than usual, her anger palpable.
“T-that’s not true! Look—does the girl even have a scratch on her face?”
As the shouting continued, Marquis Aurelius frowned, tapping his finger against the desk in irritation.
Even for a doting father, dismissing a close aide isn’t easy, I thought. That’s admirable in a leader—but his judgment of people leaves much to be desired.
I had assumed that once I stated my case, he would act decisively, but it seemed I was wrong. I decided to end his hesitation myself.
“I’ll bring you clear evidence.”
“What?”
Bartolo reacted first, his eyes widening. The Marquis studied me uncertainly.
“You think that’s possible?”
“Yes. But please grant me the authority to investigate—and restrict Sir Bartolo’s movements until it’s complete.”
“My lord, this is absurd! You’d confine an innocent man?”
“You can’t let a young, inexperienced aide manipulate you like this!”
Bartolo protested loudly, pretending to be indignant. But I still had one last card to play.
“You may not have heard yet, but during the party, Duke Ariadne himself stopped Sir Bartolo when he tried to strike me. That’s why I wasn’t injured. His Grace wanted to punish him on the spot, but I convinced him to let the Marquis’s household handle it discreetly. If I hadn’t, Lady Chiara’s party would have been ruined. Once His Grace learns that you handled this matter thoroughly, he won’t pursue it further.”
“……”
“……”
The study fell silent at the mention of the empire’s most elite noble.
“Is that true, Bartolo?” the Marquis asked.
“……”
Bartolo’s face turned crimson, but he said nothing.
“Regardless of the accusations, your behavior disappoints me.”
“M-my lord!”
“I grant Secretary Cornelia one week of investigative authority. If she fails to bring clear evidence by then, she’ll be dismissed for defaming my aide.”
“Father!”
Chiara cried out in protest, but I simply bowed my head.
“Understood, my lord.”
“Cornelia!”
When the Marquis rose and left, clearly unwilling to hear more, the others quickly dispersed. Two knights escorted Bartolo away—he wouldn’t be making any rash moves now.
“Cornelia, what on earth are you thinking?!”
Chiara grabbed my arm, her voice trembling with anger and worry. I gently covered her hand to calm her.
“Don’t worry, my lady. I’m not getting fired.”
“How can you be so sure?”
I smiled faintly, loosening her grip.
“Because no one ever does something like this just once.”
He didn’t disappoint.
Looking through his office, I realized he was no small-time schemer.
“Wow… he’s been doing this a lot.”
These internal reports weren’t closely monitored since servants could barely understand them. The Marquis had no idea how recklessly Bartolo had behaved with the staff, so his guard was down.
Still, I need solid evidence of espionage…
What I found proved embezzlement, falsified ledgers, and bribes from other merchant guilds. The amounts weren’t massive individually, but the corruption stretched on for years—more than enough to destroy him.
I gathered the documents neatly.
“Secretary Cornelia, is there anything else you need?”
“Should I place this here, ma’am?”
The servants asked brightly. According to Melony, I wasn’t the only one enjoying Bartolo’s downfall.
“Why did Father even keep someone like this as his aide?”
Chiara, who had been questioning the servants at my request, looked disgusted. None of them dared lie under her piercing gaze—especially after she promised Bartolo wouldn’t be able to retaliate.
“Let’s show him just how important character is, not just ability,” I said, sorting the evidence by its potential to ruin Bartolo’s career fastest.
“If Father still refuses to expel him after this,” Chiara said grimly, “then I’ll take drastic measures.”
That alarmed me.
“…What kind of measures?”
She lifted her chin, as if it were obvious.
“I’ll disguise myself as a maid and let that bastard try to harass me in front of Father.”
“What?!”
I had momentarily forgotten just how fearless my lady was.
“…That would certainly be effective,” I said carefully, “but there’s no need to subject yourself to something so revolting.”
“It’s just a thought. I don’t want to do it unless I have to.”
Before my noble boss could go undercover for a self-inflicted harassment sting, I worked frantically to find hard proof of espionage. There were some clues, but nothing concrete.
Frustrated, I stepped outside for air.
“I need to take him down in one blow this time…”
“Secretary Cornelia.”
A voice called out. I turned to see a servant approaching.
“Hello. What is it?”
“Melony said you might be here.”
He pulled something from his pocket—a half-burned letter.
“I found this while cleaning Sir Bartolo’s office. I wasn’t sure why, but I felt I should keep it… and give it to you. I thought you might make better use of it.”
It was unmistakably Bartolo’s handwriting. The letter contained information about the dress Lady Chiara had worn at the party, along with details about the Marquis’s business ventures.
I clicked my tongue.
So the man who humiliated my lady was from within the household itself.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t deliver it sooner.”
“No, you did nothing wrong,” I said firmly. The blame lay with Bartolo, not him. And honestly, he’d have been in danger if he’d spoken up earlier.
“Thank you for your courage.”
The next day, the Marquis’s mansion was thrown into chaos.
The Marquis and his loyal retainers were livid with betrayal; the Marchioness and Lady Chiara were furious at his disgusting actions. The Marquis himself was so shocked he fell ill for days.
“My lord, I’m innocent! It’s a setup!”
“You dare speak after seeing such undeniable evidence?!”
Bartolo was drenched in sweat, bowing so low his neck nearly snapped.
“I was foolish! Please—just this once—spare me—!”
But it was no simple mistake. His corruption and betrayal had been carefully planned and executed over years. No one could defend him now.
The Marquis’s tone was cold and sharp.
“I will not allow a spy to exist in my house. Interrogate him, expose every accomplice, and eliminate them all.”
“Yes, my lord!”
“M-my lord, please! Have mercy!”
The knights seized Bartolo and several retainers mentioned in the documents. Strangely enough, every man who had defended him earlier appeared on that list.
“Secretary Cornelia.”
The Marquis suddenly called for me.
“Yes, my lord.”
“The household will be in turmoil for a while. Until it’s settled—and a new aide is appointed—you’ll act as his replacement.”
“Wha—what?”
“…”
“…Understood.”
Bartolo really was useless to the very end.
Even my side job ran into unexpected trouble.
Inside the fluffy quokka costume, cold sweat trickled down my back as I stared across at the little lamb sitting opposite me.
Why… is the Duke here?
