YATED 29

Chapter 29

 Foreigner in the Frozen Land (4)

The crime was undeniable.

The testimony was overwhelming.

Most importantly, the Grand Duke himself had witnessed it.

So execution was only natural.

However, opinions were never uniform anywhere, and the moment the announcement went up that the head maid would be executed the next morning, the castle erupted into noisy debate.

“Still… execution is going too far. She raised His Grace since he was a child.”

“Wake up. Didn’t you also think ‘this shouldn’t be happening’ when Her Grace was being treated so disrespectfully? If she isn’t executed, the Osterine Ducal House or the Imperial Family will react immediately. What then?”

Several banquet attendees who had witnessed the Grand Duchess being forced to eat poisoned food and nearly dying gave honest testimony.

They agreed with the Grand Duke’s judgment.

“I honestly thought the head maid was drunk or something. Even if she is a baroness’s wife, the Windgut family isn’t even that prestigious. Acting like that toward an Osterine princess? Unthinkable.”

That was the core issue.

Before Kaela nearly died, refusing to eat Ferenko with Tur berries might have seemed like a picky southern noble acting arrogantly.

But forcing her to the point of collapse was something entirely different.

Osterine would not stay silent.

The Imperial Family would not stay silent.

In Ruisenford—where winter was long and brutal and Kraine’s support was vital—the matter had to be handled decisively.

“Still, she raised His Grace since he was a child, like a nanny…”

“A nanny? She wasn’t even appointed by the Empress. She acted like she was the lady of the house on her own. She clearly lost her mind.”

“Even so… shouldn’t we consider her past contributions? She probably didn’t think it would go that far.”

To the people of Ruisenford, it was possible the head maid had simply “not known.”

More importantly, the woman who had raised the Grand Duke from childhood now seemed reduced to nothing before a foreign bride from Osterine who had only just arrived.

For people who had always fought, endured, and sacrificed for Kraine only to be unrecognized, this felt deeply unfair.

And Kaela—the ultimate outsider who had never been accepted here—understood that feeling better than anyone.

“After the investigation, execution will proceed tomorrow morning.”

Peon, who had quietly entered to check on the Grand Duchess, spoke calmly.

Kaela looked at him in shock.

Execution?

Execution of whom?

The head maid?

“I’m sorry to say this so soon after you’ve awakened, but it is the appropriate judgment,” Peon said firmly.

Kaela, still propped up with a stack of pillows, stared at him in disbelief.

Was this the same man she thought she knew?

She could not believe how easily he spoke of execution.

“The head maid?”

Peon nodded.

“Execution?”

Her voice rose in disbelief, slipping between formal and informal speech before she corrected herself.

He felt a slight regret at her slipping back into informal tone, but did not show it.

“Yes. Starting with the head maid.”

“Why?”

The question escaped her before she could stop it.

Everything, as she had always expected—or rather, as she had already lived through—was deviating from its predetermined path.

The center had shifted.

The predictable trajectory had broken.

Uncertainty was terrifying.

Hope like “this time will be better” was not even something she could allow herself to think.

All that remained was fear:

How much worse will it be this time?

“It was me who ate it…” Kaela’s voice came out strained, as though her throat were being squeezed.

“I could have refused… but I…”

If she had not eaten it, she would have been scorned for years.

If she had eaten it, she would pay an even greater price.

Then she should have just died.

If she had died properly, everything would have been resolved.

The Grand Duchy of Ruisenford would have borne responsibility for killing the Grand Duchess.

That should have been how it ended.

And yet Peon had stopped it.

She resented him for that.

As she glared at him, she unexpectedly met his shocked eyes.

Ah.

She had slipped.

“…I mean, I think there are many people who would think that way.”

Kaela hurried to correct herself.

Would he even understand her, someone who had decided to die the moment she arrived in Ruisenford?

Her lips trembled as she bit them tightly.

“I understand that you were very shocked and frightened… something you had never experienced before.”

Peon’s voice was low and careful.

Each word was chosen with precision, his violet eyes scanning her pale face with extreme caution.

There was none of his usual coldness or indifference.

“I am truly sorry you had to experience something so terrible. That is my fault.”

For the first time in her life, Kaela received a sincere apology from Peon.

“And—this must be made absolutely clear.”

He paused, then emphasized firmly:

“Her Grace did nothing wrong. Nothing at all. So you do not need to say such things. There is no responsibility on your part. There never was. You did nothing wrong.”

Kaela said nothing, simply watching him.

“She did nothing wrong.”

There was only one reason for his change.

Her father is still alive.

Of course.

Ruisenford’s Grand Duke would not dare disregard the Duke of Osterine.

Kaela, who had never had a powerful family behind her, finally understood the weight of having one.

Because she had none, the head maid had always treated her lightly.

And now, because she did have one, that same head maid was about to be executed.

Kaela looked toward the maids who had come with her from Osterine.

She needed to make arrangements.

She had people and titles she was responsible for.

“…I heard she raised His Grace,” Kaela said quietly.

“She did. But that was her duty as a subject,” Peon replied.

“Isn’t that a great contribution?”

To her own surprise, Kaela found herself defending the head maid.

“Please spare her life.”

The words came out far too easily.

“I’ve only just arrived here after marriage. I don’t think it is a good start to spill blood so soon.”

Her carefully controlled tone—humble, restrained—was something she had been trained into before her death.

In Ruisenford, she had always been made small.

“While I appreciate your firm judgment… wouldn’t it be better to begin by sparing her life?”

If she established even one act of mercy here, it might be useful later.

But Peon shook his head.

“I appreciate your mercy, but I cannot accept it. I am not alright with this.”

“How dare anyone do such a thing to the Grand Duchess? I will use this opportunity to restore discipline in Ruisenford society.”

He would show no mercy.

He had already been merciful enough in the previous timeline.

Mercy only turned into entitlement.

It had to be cut down cleanly from the start.

Kaela quickly adjusted her tone.

“We have only just married. Executions during a period of celebration would not be appropriate. And she did raise you. Confiscate her wealth and title instead. I forgive her offense against me.”

The more she spoke, the more smoothly it came out.

She even surprised herself.

“You are merciful, Your Grace.”

Merciful?

She scoffed inwardly.

Not mercy.

Fear.

Fear of letting someone else own even a peaceful death—something she herself could not have.

Or perhaps revenge.

The head maid had spent years undermining her authority and obstructing her.

Kaela understood her perfectly.

Pride. Authority. Reputation.

All of it came from Peon.

So taking that away was the true punishment.

“I understand. Then her life will be spared.”

Peon said flatly.

“Only her life.”

Before Kaela’s collapse, the head maid and the current one were different people—but fundamentally the same.

She had tried to break the Grand Duchess from day one.

Execution would not be strange.

People do not change easily.

“And Tur berry dishes will never appear on Ruisenford tables again.”

Kaela looked up in surprise.

“Is that allowed?”

“People who call it important only eat it once a year at most. It is hardly tradition.”

Peon swallowed the words it nearly killed you.

“Tradition is what you and I build together. We will create new dishes for banquets. We will choose a new chef as well—pick whoever you like.”

He spoke like a husband comforting a young wife who had suffered harm.

“First, focus only on recovery. I want you healthy.”

He meant it sincerely.

Kaela, who collapsed too easily and fell ill too often, should be healthy.

She should leave Ruisenford in good health.

“Thank you.”

Her reply remained cold and formal.

After three days hovering between life and death, the Grand Duchess had barely survived.

The head maid was spared—only her life remained.

Those who agreed but held lower status were executed.

But the head maid herself, stripped of all wealth and title, was expelled from Ruisenford.

Where could she go?

South? The Empire and Osterine would treat her as a criminal.

North? Worse still—into the domain of the evil dragon Quasalante or foreign lands.

“There will surely be people who help exiles,” the secretary murmured, placing diagrams before Peon.

“They’ll hide her. She was well-connected.”

“She was,” Peon replied.

That was the problem.

She had built connections by selectively helping people—and harming others.

“More importantly, the Imperial Court will already know.”

“No,” Peon said calmly. “Not yet.”

The secretary looked surprised.

“But doesn’t His Majesty have surveillance artifacts?”

“Not for a while.”

At that, the secretary’s expression changed completely.

“Really? Is that why you ordered the mining operations?”

“Yes.”

Relief washed over the secretary’s face.

Without the Emperor’s surveillance, things were easier.

Peon knew exactly what the Emperor used those artifacts for.

And he knew that Kaela had once been used as part of that surveillance network.

The Emperor had watched everything.

His mother. Beatrice. The dragon.

And Peon himself.

“Regen,” Peon said suddenly.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Did the exiled criminal say I was bewitched by a woman?”

“Yes… as soon as she heard the execution order, she collapsed and said so.”

Peon’s expression darkened slightly.

“Even my mother would not say such a thing.”

“Her Grace the Grand Duchess showed mercy. She should be grateful for the rest of her life.”

“Call Rolf.”

He had not forgotten.

Not Ruisenford.

Not its people.

And not the fact that, in the end, the one he would eventually have to remove from Kaela’s life…

was himself.