IDGM 48

Chapter 48

“Why are you laughing?”

Brentian, feeling that I had taken his words lightly, looked aggrieved.

“It’s nothing trivial. I can hear metal clashing inside the doll. There must be something dangerous hidden within. Be careful, and don’t dismiss it lightly. Who knows what the princess might do…”

Granada cut him off sharply.

“Brentian, have you not seen the lady’s body?”

“Uh…?”

“Even if she were to pick up a blade and rush at you with all her strength, no one in Ronheim could be harmed by her hand.”

“Granada, she may look like that, but she’s an Idelian. You can’t know what schemes she might harbor, so you should still be cautious…”

Granada doubted whether Chloe, whose thin arms and hands didn’t seem to have any muscle, could even stab someone.

Stabbing someone required more strength and technique than expected.

With Chloe’s strength, she wouldn’t even be able to pierce through muscle, let alone bone.

She struggled just to carry a bathing basket—how could she possibly attack anyone physically?

‘She probably couldn’t even cut a carrot.’

I had thought the same while bathing her.

‘There must have been attendants in the Arental palace… so why is she so frail?’

It was almost worrisome, as if she were sick.

Chloe patted Brentian on the shoulder.

“You think too much and miss what really matters.”

“Ah…”

Brentian let out a frustrated sigh.

It sounded familiar somehow. Both Lassa and Granada always said he overthought things, and he didn’t understand why it was only him.

Brentian, feeling annoyed, snapped at Granada.

“I must say something as well. You are too lenient with people who appear weak. You underestimate the fact that she carries Idelian royal blood just because of her appearance.”

In his excitement, he ended up saying what he shouldn’t.

“Don’t forget who killed the person you served. The Idelian royal family is our enemy.”

“…”

Granada looked at him silently.

Meeting her calm, gray eyes, Brentian suddenly realized he had overstepped—but the words were already spoken.

Granada spoke evenly.

“Do you think I could ever forget? Every step I take with this prosthetic leg, I recall that day vividly, more than anyone else.”

The corners of her wrinkled eyes reddened slightly.

She swallowed a few times as if her throat were tight.

“Just because your wounds hurt, don’t think others’ wounds hurt less. Everyone believes their own pain is the worst.”

“…I was reckless in that regard. I apologize.”

“Good, then.”

She quickly returned to her usual firm expression and straightened her posture.

“And remember, even if a parent is a murderer, it doesn’t mean their child will be one too.”

“The probability that a criminal’s child becomes a criminal is much higher than for others.”

“I wonder if the same result would occur even if one strictly controlled stamping a mark on their forehead and pointing fingers at them.”

“…Anyway, it doesn’t hurt to be cautious. I’ve clearly warned you.”

Brentian muttered somewhat sulkily and then left abruptly.

In Ronheim Castle, there were plenty of people who, no matter how mature they seemed, couldn’t hide such childish sides in front of Granada.

Alex, who had been silently watching the two of them, bowed to Granada and followed Brentian.

‘If I want to hide the treasure, I need a place for it.’

I stared seriously at the teddy bear and cushion.

It was clear that Alex and Brentian had noticed something suspicious inside.

‘Where could I hide the treasure without anyone knowing?’

The staff of Ronheim disliked me, and I couldn’t trust my own maids—this was a difficult situation.

As I pondered, Granada returned.

I carefully observed her expression, hoping to glean any clue about what Brentian might have said.

But Granada showed no sign of it. She simply helped me into my pajamas and carefully dried my wet hair.

Watching her silently comb my hair in the mirror, she spoke:

“If you have something to ask, ask confidently. If someone has wronged you, reprimand them properly. You have that status, don’t you?”

“…!”

Speaking so honestly—her gray eyes met mine in the mirror, and I awkwardly looked away.

She continued firmly.

“Do not avoid eye contact. Clearly state what you want.”

“I-I’m sorry.”

Feeling scolded, I apologized, and she reprimanded me again:

“It is not good to apologize for things you need not. Your maids will become spoiled.”

“Ah… I understand.”

She was right. I had resolved not to over-apologize, yet here I was again.

‘Changing oneself is hard.’

I had asked her to train the maids, yet I was the one being trained.

Granada set down the comb and asked:

“So, what is it you wish to ask?”

I hesitated, wondering if I could speak about Brentian to another Ronheim person, but I feared being scolded if I remained silent.

I was scared of her.

“Count Creepf…”

But when I said Brentian’s name, I became confused about how to continue.

Did I ask if he was suspicious of my doll? Or that he disliked me? Or doubted me?

‘I can tell just by his attitude… why even ask?’

Seeing my hesitation, Granada nodded as if understanding.

Instead of pressing me further, she shared her thoughts:

“The count was rude. I clearly told him so, and there should be no further incidents.”

I was stunned. That was what she said outside?

Granada’s expression was unwavering.

Seeing her so resolute, I felt confident she wasn’t lying.

“Thank you.”

“He doesn’t trust you. Every action you take may seem suspicious to him. As you know, just a dozen years ago, we lost countless precious people to Arental’s army.”

“…”

“There’s no need for me to explain in detail.”

“I understand.”

“Good.”

From the start, I had been amazed at Granada’s straightforward, unyielding nature—she spoke uncomfortable truths directly to my face.

“For this reason, Count Creepf being cautious of you is inevitable. It is his duty to quickly detect threats to Ronheim and prepare accordingly. However, today he was indeed rude, so make sure you get an apology later.”

“Y-Yes.”

Granada nodded, then seemed to turn to leave—but stopped and faced me again.

“May I ask one thing?”

“Hmm? What is it?”

“Did you hide a weapon inside that doll?”

I widened my eyes in surprise and turned to look at Granada.

“A weapon? Did Count Creepf really misunderstand that?”

Relieved that it was just a misunderstanding and not about the treasure, I waved my hands.

“No, I don’t even know how to handle a weapon.”

Granada nodded as if that was enough.

“I will make sure that no one touches what you value.”

“Thank you.”

“I will take my leave. If you need anything, pull the cord by the bed. Farewell.”

I lay down under the blankets.

My mind was in chaos.

‘What will life here be like from now on?’

The journey here had been filled with relief and hope.

Relief at finally escaping Kabala and Andrea.

A certainty that Andrea could never have survived that arduous journey to Ronheim.

Hope of starting anew.

But the tedious label of being an Idelian princess still clung to me.

‘I can’t make everyone my ally. But at least to live here, I need to erase the Idelian name from myself.’

Even asking Calias to prevent people from misunderstanding me would be useless.

‘I must make it clear to the people here that I am no longer the Idelian princess, but the Marchioness of Rodrian.’

Spending a few days with the Ronheim people, I realized that being called a princess didn’t elevate me—it implied they didn’t recognize me as the Marchioness of Rodrian.

I thought hard about how to be accepted and called the Marchioness of Rodrian.

But before finding a good solution, the thick, cozy blankets lulled my exhaustion to sleep.

It was blissful sleep—the first time in a long while I had slept in such a good bed.

I fell into a deep slumber.

Then, in a half-asleep state, I saw an ominous red glow flicker from my chest.

‘Hm? What is that?’

Startled, I rubbed my eyes. Other than the fireplace, there was no light anywhere.

‘Was it a dream?’

Heavy eyelids pulled me back into sleep.

But after that, I couldn’t sleep a wink for the rest of the night.