Chapter 9
Richard looked exactly the same as before.
There was quite an age gap between him and Count Fairborn, yet he was only seven years older than Rowena. With his tall build and refined features, many people admired him.
But Rowena paid no attention to his handsome face—her focus was on his stiff expression.
He had always been serious and unsmiling, but now he seemed even colder than before.
Richard probably doesn’t know that Otille is the traitor.
The only ones who likely knew were Everett—whom she had just met—and Count Fairborn.
Even though Richard was his only brother, the Count would not have told him, knowing his rigid personality.
Rowena decided to follow Richard.
Now that he had arrived, he would surely meet the Count. She wanted to know what they would discuss.
Picking up the rag she had left by the pillar, she quietly followed him into the mansion, hiding her presence.
Being a maid really is convenient.
No matter where she appeared, she could simply say she was working.
There was no better identity for moving freely within enemy territory.
As expected, Richard headed straight to the Count’s office.
Once he entered and closed the door, Rowena moved silently and pressed her ear against it.
Faint voices came from inside.
“Have you still not caught the spy?”
It was Richard’s voice.
So he really doesn’t know it’s Otille.
“Richard… are you still talking about that? The spy no longer matters. Stafol has won the war, and our lives are in their hands. What difference would it make now?”
“We still haven’t found the bodies of the young duke and Lady Rowena. If they are alive, there is still a chance to strike back.”
“Richard! Watch your mouth! If someone from Stafol hears that, we’ll lose our heads!”
Rowena’s eyes sharpened.
It seemed Richard had not abandoned Greymont.
Still, she couldn’t trust him completely yet.
Blood ties were strong—if he learned the traitor was his niece, he might side with his family instead.
“I don’t understand what you fear so much, brother. If we must bow to the enemy just to survive, death would be better.”
“Enough, Richard! If you’re going to speak nonsense, leave this estate at once!”
The conversation ended abruptly.
Richard approached the door.
Hearing his footsteps, Rowena quickly stepped away and pretended to clean the floor.
The door opened.
Richard noticed her.
She continued wiping the floor as if nothing had happened.
“Have you been here the whole time?”
“No. I just arrived.”
She tilted her head slightly.
“Did you need something?”
Her reaction didn’t match someone who had overheard a heated argument, so Richard didn’t press further.
“…No. But next time, if someone is inside the Count’s office, stay away.”
“I will remember that.”
With that, he left.
Sharp.
Once alone, Rowena straightened and looked in the direction he had gone.
She had confirmed his loyalty—but that wasn’t enough.
She needed to test how strong that loyalty truly was.
The method was simple.
She would anonymously report that Otille was the spy—and observe his reaction.
If he chose family over loyalty, he would quietly eliminate the informant.
If he chose loyalty, he would try to meet the informant.
Of course, she needed proof.
Fortunately, as a maid, obtaining it wouldn’t be difficult.
Rowena knew Otille well.
For example—
She had a habit of keeping every letter she received.
If she had secretly exchanged letters with the Duke of Stafol, she would likely still have them.
Even if the duke later denied everything, those letters would prove her role in the victory.
It’s been a while since I’ve entered your room.
A faint smile crossed her lips.
***
Meanwhile
“His Grace, the Duke of Stafol, has summoned you when you have time.”
The message reached Everett early in the morning.
The moment he heard it, all traces of sleep vanished.
He wanted to ignore it—but he couldn’t.
The Duke of Stafol held too many things hostage.
For example—
The body of the Duke of Greymont.
It had not yet been recovered.
His head had been severed and displayed at the castle gates.
It could not be left there to be eaten by crows.
Even in life, the duke had never rested peacefully, always worrying about war and his people.
At the very least, he deserved a proper burial.
That was the minimum duty Everett could fulfill.
To do that, he had to cooperate—for now.
Grinding his teeth, Everett prepared to leave.
If it couldn’t be avoided, it was better to get it over with quickly.
“I am Everett Winsrop, Marquis.”
He arrived at Stafol Castle in the late afternoon.
A servant greeted him with exaggerated politeness.
“This way, please.”
It’s spotless.
Unlike Greymont Castle, which had burned to ruins, Stafol Castle stood pristine.
The sight reignited his anger.
He had been consumed with finding Rowena’s body—but moments like this brought everything back.
Still, he didn’t draw his sword.
Even if he planned to die after finding Rowena, he still had responsibilities.
He had to ensure his people would not suffer after his death.
Killing the Duke of Stafol would only lead to chaos and bloodshed.
So he endured.
“Oh! Welcome, Marquis Winsrop!”
The Duke of Stafol approached with open arms.
Everett clenched his fists.
“I heard you summoned me.”
“Yes. We still have much to discuss.”
“If you mean a pledge of loyalty, I’ve already heard it many times through Otille.”
“A pledge of loyalty? Don’t define our relationship so coldly. I believe we can become family.”
Everett didn’t even bother to laugh.
All you want is my forces and territory.
“And why do you hesitate? I know you were engaged to Rowena—but she is already dead.”
Everett forced himself to stay silent.
Saying she might still be alive would sound like rebellion.
“If you cooperate, I will personally ensure her body is found. I will even bury her beside the Duke of Greymont.”
It sounded reasonable.
But Everett couldn’t accept it.
Instead, he thought of Rowena—alive.
And then, unexpectedly—
He also thought of someone else.
The maid he had met at the Fairborn estate.
