Chapter 153
Apologize Right Now
“I want to marry Eleanor.”
That shocking declaration echoed through the Merveny Marquis family’s dining room.
The one who uttered such outrageous words was none other than Camelia Merveny—the only daughter of the Merveny family, and a certified lunatic acknowledged by her own relatives.
Wanting to marry someone who wasn’t a noble? Fine, let’s let that slide.
Wanting to marry a woman instead of a man? Fine—some countries even allow same-sex marriage.
But wanting to steal the king’s woman? Wasn’t that going way too far?
Especially when her own brother served that man at the closest possible distance.
“When will that thing ever become human.”
The Marquis of Merveny shook his head as if he didn’t even want to respond and left the dining room.
“Well, at least she’s consistent,” the Marquise muttered as she followed him out.
And so, left behind in the dining room were Camelia—staring blankly into space with flushed cheeks—and Seth, glaring at her with pure contempt.
“You’re so lucky, brother. You get to walk around with someone so pretty, cute, elegant, and lovely all the time. Want to trade? I’ll be the bodyguard, you be the count’s daughter.”
“Stop talking nonsense. Camelia Merveny. I’ve told you again and again—don’t judge people by their looks alone.”
“She’s not a person. She’s a fairy. No—she’s a goddess.”
That was enough. Seth decided there was no value in continuing this conversation. He put down his utensils and stood up.
Camelia, however, kept talking as she pleased.
“A goddess who descended upon Royster… haah. How do I make her mine? Oh, by the way, brother. Eleanor doesn’t seem very familiar with Royster culture yet.”
“Well, of course. She probably doesn’t want to bother learning Royster’s culture in the first place.”
“No, that wasn’t it.”
Camelia shook her head firmly at Seth’s scoff.
“She seemed interested, and she picked things up right away when someone explained them to her. She looks willing to learn—but it felt like there was no one teaching her. Is the Trava Palace head maid looking down on Eleanor?”
Seth, who had been about to leave the dining room, froze.
“…It seems I misunderstood.”
The image of Eleanor sighing in resignation flashed through his mind, and his red eyebrows twisted sharply.
Now that he thought about it, many things didn’t add up.
The Eleanor he had heard about in rumors and the Eleanor he personally guarded felt like completely different people.
That quiet woman—comparing Royster to Juvenile and acting arrogant?
No matter how he thought about it, it didn’t make sense.
It made far more sense that the head maid had been keeping Eleanor in check and spreading rumors.
“…Stop saying strange things and finish your meal. And don’t act overly friendly toward her. You’re not some idiot like Russell—what could you possibly know about someone you’ve only met for a day?”
“That’s funny. Who was it that told me to look out for her first? Guide her to a warm seat so she doesn’t catch a cold. Keep talking to her so she doesn’t feel awkward. Anyone would think you were Eleanor’s husband. Though of course, I’ll be the husband.”
“I’m leaving.”
Seth gave up on conversing with a being devoid of reason and walked away.
“And brother—you know you like Sir Russell too! Stop pretending you don’t, idiot!”
Her irritating voice stabbed at the back of his head, but Seth didn’t stop walking.
It wasn’t so much avoiding filth because it was dirty—
it was avoiding it because it was terrifying.
Based on over twenty years of experience, that filth was especially persistent, foul-smelling, and dangerous.
***
After the brief family gathering, Seth returned straight to the palace and began observing Eleanor far more carefully than before.
It didn’t take even a few days for him to realize—
Camelia had been right.
The head maid of Trava Palace had been consistently looking down on Eleanor.
And Eleanor accepted it without complaint.
As if she believed she was supposed to endure it.
Why?
Seth couldn’t understand.
She was clearly being treated unfairly—so why wasn’t she pushing back? Why wasn’t she even showing that she was hurt?
As Russell had said, Eleanor wasn’t the villainess from the rumors.
If anything, she was closer to a frustrating fool.
Either way, it bothered him.
“You two. Did you know she’s being looked down on by the head maid?”
Unable to shake his irritation, Seth sought out Russell and Adrian.
Caught off guard by the sudden question, the two widened their eyes, exchanged looks, then nodded.
“You only noticed now?”
“You’re very late, Sir Seth. It’s been going on for at least a month.”
Russell clicked his tongue, and Adrian shook his head.
Everyone knew except me.
Seth’s face twisted deeply.
He was supposed to be her guard—yet he’d been the only one unaware. The blow to his pride was sharp.
“You knew and just let it happen?”
“You know Amira ignores me too. And what were we supposed to do? The young lady told us to leave it alone. She’s too kind for her own good.”
“That’s not kindness—that’s being a doormat. Someone who lived her whole life as the Empire’s only duke’s daughter can’t even speak up for herself? I don’t understand it at all.”
As Seth’s voice rose, Russell frowned.
“You’re really damn negative. Listen—if she had spoken up, would you honestly have thought better of her? Or would you have thought she was acting shameless, leaning on the Grand Duke’s power despite not being a noble?”
“What are you—!”
Seth stopped mid-sentence, deep lines forming between his brows.
To be honest… he couldn’t confidently deny it.
From the start, he’d viewed Eleanor negatively. If she had been outspoken, he probably would’ve found fault in that too.
Haaah.
Russell let out a long sigh and lowered his voice.
“I know you’re a perfectionist, but don’t force that standard onto others. Remember, Seth—what was it like when you joined the subjugation squad? You lost everything. Your status, your honor, your fiancée. People who didn’t know you talked trash about you. It was hard, wasn’t it? And the lady’s situation is even worse than that—yet she endures without a single complaint. So why do you keep looking at her so negatively?”
“Russell’s right,” Adrian added quietly, pausing his work.
“Miss Eleanor is remarkable. She endures unfair treatment for His Highness’s reputation. That’s not something just anyone can do.”
Faced with both of them, Seth parted his lips as if to speak—then turned on his heel and left without a word.
“That guy really has issues,” Russell muttered.
“But you know he’s not a bad person,” Adrian replied.
“The fact that he couldn’t argue back and just left means it reached him.”
“Fair point.”
Russell shrugged.
***
Eleanor caught a cold.
She thought she could handle it—but standing for hours in a winter garden wearing only a shawl over a thin dress had been too much.
That very night, her body felt heavy. By the next day, she had a fever.
At least Karsian hadn’t returned from the subjugation yet.
If he found out she was sick, he’d drop everything to stay by her side. Even if he forced himself to go on the mission, he’d be distracted—and that could lead to disaster.
So if she had to be sick, it was better that it happened while he was gone.
Though, of course, not being sick at all would’ve been best.
“Cough, cough!”
It had been a long time since she last caught a cold—and this one was harsher than expected.
Her body burned, then chills swept over her, making her limbs tremble. Her head spun.
Hilda watched her coughing fit with tears in her eyes, like someone watching a terminally ill patient.
“Our poor lady…”
“What’s so pitiful about it? Cough—it’s just a cold.”
“It is pitiful! Do you know how miserable it is to be sick in an unfamiliar place?”
At the words unfamiliar place, Seth—standing guard at a distance—furrowed his brow, not quite understanding why.
“And His Highness isn’t even here… that’s why I said I’d stay with you all night.”
“That won’t do. You need rest too, Hilda. You’ll take better care of me during the day if you sleep well. That’s more efficient, right?”
That word—efficient.
Hilda drooped her eyebrows and pouted.
“Karsian will be back by tonight anyway, and I feel better than yesterday. Don’t worry too much.”
“Still, wouldn’t it be better to see a physician again?” Ernst added anxiously.
Why was everyone making such a fuss over a cold?
Eleanor smiled faintly, recalling far harsher pain from her past.
“I’ll be fine. Rest will cure it. I’m just coughing a bit—it doesn’t hurt that much. I’ll probably be fully better by tonight.”
She said it smoothly, despite barely having the strength to stand.
Watching her only made Seth feel more suffocated.
Then, there was a knock.
Amira entered.
“My lady, how are you feeling?”
The obvious culprit walked in shamelessly and asked after her health.
Hilda clutched the back of her neck.
Before we leave this place, I’ll bury that woman with my own hands.
“I think I still need more rest. My body feels heavy.”
“Someone from a cold country catching a cold this early in winter… sigh. My lady, managing your health is also a virtue. The former Grand Duchess avoided going out entirely during winter to prevent illness—”
The condescending lecture began again.
Comparing her to the former duchess had become routine.
What should she do?
Was it finally time to push back?
Eleanor leaned against the wall, dizzy, considering—
When a harsh voice cut in.
“Why are you running your mouth like that?”
It was Seth.
The man who had only ever looked at Eleanor with dissatisfaction.
“Have you lost your mind, head maid? Have you forgotten who’s standing in front of you?”
Eleanor’s eyes flew wide open—pain forgotten.
Hilda and Ernst stared at Seth in shock.
Amira clearly hadn’t expected this either—her lips flapped wordlessly for a moment.
“…I was only concerned about the young lady’s health. If my words sounded rude—”
“They didn’t sound rude. They were rude. I thought you had forgotten all etiquette.”
As his sharp criticism continued, the head maid’s face flushed red.
Her wrinkled hands trembled with humiliation.
This is the kind of scene you watch while eating snacks…
Hilda searched the table longingly. Ernst quickly grabbed her wrist.
Please. Stay still.
“Apologize. Right now.”
“Sir Seth, how dare you speak to me—”
“I told you to apologize to the lady. Head maid.”
By deliberately using lady and head maid together, he reminded her exactly where she stood.
He’d had enough.
Voice cold and vicious, he added—
“Or would you prefer I personally report your disrespect to His Highness?”
