Chapter : 10
Dereret was absolutely not someone who could be persuaded with words. They had never even had a proper conversation, so she had no way of knowing what he liked or what he lacked.
In other words, it was impossible to find his weakness.
‘What am I supposed to do? He says he’ll decide whether to help me or not only after I get divorced.’
He was even stubborn in ways he normally wasn’t, despite being completely pale with worry.
No matter how much resentment he held because she had threatened him, she had thought he was someone who was exceptionally good at making rational judgments.
He was so calculating that he was even cold toward his own son, Calix.
After complaining about him silently for a while, she stopped grumbling and began looking around for something that could be used as a weapon.
‘As expected, there’s nothing.’
After that night, Patron had ordered the servants to remove every dangerous object from the Duchess’s room, so there was nothing suitable.
The only things he had left untouched were her accessories, so, reluctantly, she picked up a diamond ring.
Without hesitation, she dragged it across the back of her hand, but it only left a faint red mark. It did not create a wound.
Annoyed, Klitaim put the ring down on the vanity.
Unable to stay still, she paced around the room while biting her fingers.
Her long-awaited divorce was right in front of her, and she hated the fact that she was wasting time.
‘I should have just cut myself that time.’
It seemed there were guards taking turns watching her. Under the pretext of being her morning and evening escorts, they alternated shifts and provided additional protection.
Of course, Dereret was with her twenty-four hours a day.
But she could not just sit around like this, so she got up and went outside.
“Madam, is there anything you need?”
When Klitaim came out, Becky gently checked her mistress’s complexion with a kind voice.
Klitaim responded with a smile and spoke.
“Could you tell Electra that I want to go for a walk?”
“Yes, please wait a moment.”
Becky disappeared with quick little steps, leaving only Dereret standing alone in the hallway, guarding the door.
Klitaim swallowed nervously as she looked at the sword and gun he was carrying.
The gun could potentially kill her, so she would leave that aside, but if she could just get that sword—
“Madam.”
“Uh…?”
“I have only one master. So, please go back inside.”
Dereret, as perceptive as ever, quickly noticed Klitaim’s intentions and drew a clear line.
“Ahem.”
Caught off guard, she deliberately cleared her throat and looked away to distract herself.
Soon, Electra arrived near her room, and the two of them went for a walk in the garden within the estate.
Unaware of any of this, Patron secretly met one of the bishops, Roberts.
Having been summoned by the Grand Duke, he headed toward the meeting place with a grim expression.
The place Roberts arrived at was a private prayer room inside the temple.
It was a space where one was permitted to be alone under the pretext of praying to God.
In reality, however, it had become corrupted and was no longer a place for prayer, but rather a place for all sorts of illicit meetings.
Roberts descended the winding staircase and stopped in front of one of the prayer rooms.
He knocked on the door three times.
A moment later—
The door opened, and a man greeted him.
Even after seeing Roberts, the man did not lower his hood.
Roberts let out a mocking laugh and spoke first.
“You dared to summon a bishop here. Surely you’re not planning to say nothing at all?”
“Of course not, Bishop Roberts.”
At his sarcastic remark, the robed man finally revealed his identity.
“You’re going too far with your jokes.”
“You’re one to talk, Your Grace.”
At Patron’s grumbling, Roberts gave a meaningless laugh and entered the prayer room completely.
After making sure the door was securely locked, he confirmed that their secrecy was guaranteed and got straight to the point.
“What favor did you need from me?”
At the direct question, Patron wiped the smile from his lips and immediately continued the conversation.
“Help me manipulate the evidence.”
“……Is this because of Madam Schultz?”
“Yes.”
Patron did not deny Roberts’s question and honestly admitted it.
At his answer, given without even the slightest hesitation, Roberts’s lips parted.
The sound that almost escaped him was clearly a reproach, but he swallowed it down.
After all, Roberts was in no position to lecture the Grand Duke.
“How is my sister?”
He was the elder brother of Patron’s former wife, Nestra Bül.
At Roberts’s question, Patron nodded with an indifferent expression.
It was a nod that contained many things.
Roberts was also one of the reasons Patron had not sent Nestra away all this time.
The Grand Duke and Bishop Roberts were quite close.
But Nestra did not know that and only continued to cause more trouble.
Around the time Patron had grown tired of dealing with that, Klitaim approached him.
“The priests who examine the evidence are not under my jurisdiction. You know that.”
“Isn’t there someone higher-ranking than you?”
The person Patron was referring to was Archbishop Garcia.
Aside from the Pope and the Cardinals, he was the one who had the authority to intervene in every trial conducted by the temple.
It would not be an exaggeration to say that all the minor divorce trials, excluding trials that determined the fate of the entire nation, were ultimately handled by him.
“Contact the Archbishop.”
“Have you arrived, Your Highness?”
“It has been a long time, Archbishop Garcia.”
To make it clear that this was not an official visit, Patron entered through the window with his hood pulled low.
He did not want to waste time, so he immediately got to the point.
“A lengthy introduction wouldn’t be good for you either, so I’ll get straight to the point.”
I want to know about the divorce trial of Baron and Baroness Schultz.
The words struck without the slightest hesitation.
The Archbishop swallowed dryly before asking,
“What would you like to know?”
“The names of the judge and jury who will deliver the verdict. And the names of the inspection team.”
At the words “inspection team,” Garcia’s face turned pale.
The inspection team was responsible for determining whether the physical evidence presented during the trial was genuine.
They had been established to ensure impartial judgments before God, so they were composed only of highly devout individuals and selected at random.
Before the trial, only the Archbishop, the Cardinals, and the Pope could know who had been selected.
“……Are you planning to manipulate the evidence?”
“There’s nothing I can’t do.”
Do you really believe the temple is clean?
Faced with Patron’s firm answer, the Archbishop could not refute him and fell silent.
Just as the Grand Duke said, the temple was only clean on the outside. Inside, it was anything but.
It was filled with people who exploited God’s name as an indulgence while satisfying their own selfish desires.
Even the Archbishop himself accepted bribes from certain people and granted them favors.
“But the appointment of the inspection team is outside my jurisdiction. The Cardinal selects them personally, and the Pope appoints them. The only thing I can know is who the inspection team members are on the day of the trial.”
Garcia explained his circumstances at length, making it clear that he was troubled.
But there was no way that would work on the Grand Duke.
“Isn’t that why I came to you—to make what is impossible possible?”
Whether you bribe someone or do something else, make sure they cannot determine whether the evidence is genuine.
That is what I want from you.
In the end, Patron obtained the Archbishop’s promise and returned to the estate after leaving only a formal word of thanks.
“I distinctly remember ordering you to take good care of the two of them.”
Late at night, Patron finally stepped into the estate.
When he saw the situation unfolding before his eyes, his brows furrowed.
The very person he had desperately wanted to keep from getting hurt was openly injured and receiving treatment.
Dereret, being the natural-born knight that he was, was kneeling and begging Patron for forgiveness, while Miller, the family physician, nervously watched the situation in the chilly atmosphere.
“What happened to make things turn out like this?”
The icy voice shifted from Dereret to Klitaim.
“I went for a walk and tripped when my dress caught on something.”
She deliberately turned her head toward Patron as she gave a roughly plausible excuse.
She was trying to prove that she was innocent.
The problem was that it was not innocence she was proving, but a lie.
“You call that an excuse?”
As expected, Patron’s forehead did not relax.
Instead, his expression became even more severe.
“Then are you telling me I should just sit still and do nothing?”
The divorce trial is right around the corner.
At her sharp retort, Patron paused for a moment before speaking again.
“Don’t worry about the evidence. I’ll make it work somehow.”
At his confident tone, Klitaim tilted her head and asked,
“Do you have some good method in mind?”
Honestly, from Klitaim’s perspective, if she could manipulate the evidence without having to injure herself, that would be ideal.
No matter how many deaths she had experienced, her sense of pain was still intact.
But she could not simply trust his words without question.
Even for the Grand Duke, negotiating with the temple was no easy matter.
“I’ve finished treating her. I’ll tell the maid who serves Madam, so please change the herbs frequently.”
At the physician’s reminder, Klitaim nodded, and Miller quickly left the room.
“Dereret, come to Madam’s quarters tomorrow morning. Don’t be late.”
“Understood.”
Dereret understood Patron’s intention, saluted, and quickly disappeared.
Silence descended upon the room.
Not knowing where to look, Klitaim hesitated before finally speaking.
“Tell me what that method is.”
It’s something I need to know anyway, isn’t it?
At Klitaim’s insistence, Patron extended a hand instead of answering.
“Follow me first. I’ll tell you.”
From Klitaim’s perspective, it was not a deal that would cause her any loss, so she obediently followed him.
Patron escorted her to the basement of the estate.
After passing through a winding staircase, they entered a room filled with the damp smell of mold.
The wooden door opened with an unpleasant creak.
Unlike the exterior, the inside of the wooden door was neat and well organized.
Seeing the comfortable chairs and other furnishings arranged inside, Klitaim let go of the fear she had been feeling.
‘It’s not so bad, after all.’
She had been worried that he might be taking her somewhere strange.
Then Klitaim, thinking that it was absurd, turned her attention toward the books.
By far, the most eye-catching thing in the room was the enormous quantity of books.
Patron took one of them from among the collection and handed it to her.
“It’s a recipe for making medicine that can manipulate wounds.”
If you need anything, ask Martin.
After receiving the recipe for the medicine that could manipulate wounds, Klitaim briefly skimmed through the book.
Having acquired all sorts of knowledge through her repeated regressions, she nevertheless knew little about making medicine.
“If it’s not too much trouble, could you teach me how to make the medicine?”
I’ve never made medicine before.
She knew how to handle weapons such as guns and swords, and she knew how to hide from assassins.
But making medicine?
Klitaim, who only knew enough to perform simple treatments, eventually asked Patron for help.
Patron readily promised to help her.
But on one condition.
“Promise me you will never harm yourself.”
Faced with his firm attitude, Klitaim eventually raised the white flag and agreed to follow his request.
She had no idea why he was so obsessed with something like that.
And so, the two of them began making the medicine in the room.
Since Patron had already prepared all the ingredients in advance, the process proceeded quickly.
“One spoonful of Martini grass juice.”
They added all sorts of strange ingredients, and as the final touch, they added Martini juice, which served a role similar to licorice from her previous life.
A fragrant scent wafted from the cauldron.
“It’s not as difficult as I thought.”
“Yes. Herbalism will be useful to know, so you may as well learn it.”
Among all the conversations they had shared after she threatened the Grand Duke, this was the most ordinary.
The relatively peaceful atmosphere allowed Klitaim’s heart to calm down a little.
Of course, that did not mean all the questions blooming inside her mind had been answered.
“Duke Ludwig.”
It was not the title she normally used to address him.
At the unfamiliar way she called him, Patron’s eyes naturally turned toward her.
“Did you come here after blackmailing someone?”
