TGDHC Chapter 122

Chapter 122 – The Revelation (Part 1)

Inside the cell, Marzella’s body lay covered with a cloth.

“She had complained of stomach pain for the past few days and requested to be sent to the treatment center,” Johas explained.

“The treatment center?”

“Yes. When someone falls seriously ill, even if they’re a prisoner, we sometimes send them outside the castle to avoid spreading disease.”

“And did she receive treatment?”

“I’m afraid not, Your Grace. There are quite a few prisoners who fake illness…”

The color drained further from Johas’s face.

Unless a prisoner collapsed or was on the verge of death, such requests were usually ignored.

He thought the Grand Duchess might scold him, but instead, she remained silent.

It had happened at the worst possible time—both the captain and vice-captain were away, fixing problems with the defense stones along the border.

Since Johas had just returned from several expeditions, he’d been given the duty of supervising the prison as a temporary assignment.

‘And this had to happen now…’

No one could handle a prisoner’s body without the Duke’s permission.

And if the Duke was away, that authority passed to the Grand Duchess.

Therefore, he had no choice but to report directly to her.

‘I didn’t expect her to insist on seeing the body herself, though.’

If anyone found out he had brought the Grand Duchess to such a grim place, the captain would surely scold him later.

But Her Grace’s orders had been firm—he couldn’t refuse.

Even Norton, who followed her, looked uneasy.

“Are we sure it was an illness?” she asked.

“It seems so.”

Johas told her what another prisoner in the next cell had said—that Marzella had been moaning all night in pain.

“There was another prisoner beside her?”

“Yes… that maid named Janet. She’s been moved to another floor now.”

“Ah.”

The Grand Duchess sighed shortly. It didn’t sound like concern, exactly.

Johas decided not to mention that Janet had panicked so badly after discovering the body that the guards had trouble restraining her.

The Grand Duchess turned to the guards.

“Did anyone visit Marzella recently?”

“N-No, Your Grace,” one of them stammered.

The pale-faced guards nodded quickly.

Normally, prisoners had friends or servants who tried to sneak them food, but Marzella had no one.

“Ah…!”

One guard suddenly remembered something.

“A lady did visit once, accompanied by a few knights.”

“A lady?”

The Grand Duchess’s voice rose slightly.

“Lady Meisel, Your Grace,” Johas added calmly.

He remembered seeing a record that Meisel had brought a blanket for the prisoner.

“She brought her a blanket?”

The Grand Duchess turned toward the guards.

“Is it common for visitors to bring blankets to the prison?”

The guard tilted his head, realizing how strange that sounded.

“Usually, they bring food or snacks, Your Grace.”

Since prisoners were only given one meal a day, most people worried about hunger.

Still, it wasn’t entirely unthinkable—a noble lady like Meisel wouldn’t understand such suffering.

“Where is that blanket now?”

The guard hurried into the cell and picked up the blanket lying beside the corpse.

It took him a while—Marzella’s hands were still tightly gripping it.

“I’ll take care of that,” Johas said quickly, seeing how dirty it was.

But the Grand Duchess had already accepted it.

While she examined the blanket thoroughly, the others watched in confusion.

Then, as she looked at one corner, she began to pull at the stitching.

“Allow me, Your Grace.”

Norton stepped forward, took the blanket, and tore it open with one swift motion.

Rip!

As the stitches came apart, a small piece of paper fell to the floor.

“…!”

Johas swallowed hard.

‘It can’t be…’

In the eastern wing’s tea room, the young ladies of the major noble families were gathered.

All of them had received invitations from the Grand Duchess late the previous night.

It was a very unusual invitation, but no one dared decline it.

While they waited for her arrival, Meisel bit her lip anxiously.

‘This isn’t the time to be sitting here drinking tea.’

It had been several days since she’d delivered the blanket to Marzella, yet there was still no news.

At least the suspicion toward her seemed gone; her seat was once again directly to the Grand Duchess’s right.

Though she wasn’t pleased to see Cecilia’s name card placed opposite her.

“…I heard a strange rumor,” said Lady Rozel, a count’s daughter sitting nearby.

Because she’d been moved one seat farther from the Grand Duchess due to Cecilia, her tone was sour.

“I heard Lady Meisel was summoned to the Grand Duke’s castle for questioning.”

She lowered her voice as if whispering—but loud enough for everyone in the tea room to hear.

“Questioning? Don’t be ridiculous,” Meisel replied sharply, unable to hide her irritation.

“His Grace personally asked for my help with a certain matter. That’s why I went there.”

Technically, that wasn’t a lie—it had been under the Duke’s order.

“What kind of help?”

“I’m afraid it’s confidential.”

‘So mind your own business,’ Meisel thought smugly, pretending to be part of the Duke’s inner circle.

Rozel’s face tightened with annoyance—but just then, the butler announced loudly:

“Her Grace, the Grand Duchess, is entering.”

Unlike the last time, his tone was formal and grave.

The Grand Duchess entered the room with her maid.

“Thank you for coming, everyone, even on such short notice.”

The young ladies, who had been tense over the sudden invitation, relaxed slightly at her calm tone.

The Grand Duchess smiled gently at Meisel.

“Especially you, Lady Meisel. I know you must be busy.”

“Oh, Your Grace! How could I possibly miss such an invitation?” Meisel replied sweetly, tilting her head.

The fact that the Grand Duchess had singled her out…

‘She’s trying to test me.’

But Meisel had nothing to fear.

‘There’s no proof.’

After all, the only witness—Marzella—would soon be unable to speak.

If everything had gone as planned and Marzella took the powder when she was supposed to…

‘It was originally meant for the Grand Duchess, though.’

The moment Meisel had met the sorcerer, she’d sent a trusted errand boy to his shop with an order.

The message was simple:

A potion that doesn’t kill, but destroys the body.

It had been her backup plan—just in case she needed to remove the Grand Duchess from power.

The errand boy returned quickly with a small vial filled with white powder.

It had been far too easy.

—“If she takes this all at once, even someone like her will be in unbearable pain. It will take a long time before she recovers,” the sorcerer had said.

His words had sounded odd.

‘Even someone like her? Did he somehow know who it was for?’

But Meisel hadn’t cared.

All that mattered was that it would leave her rival incapacitated.

And now, thanks to the situation, she had simply used the powder on Marzella instead.

‘She should’ve taken it by now. Maybe I just haven’t heard the results yet.’

As idle conversation drifted among the ladies, Meisel decided to take a bold step.

“Your Grace,” she began, “I know you’ve been troubled because of the head maid, Marzella.”

The Grand Duchess, holding her teacup, paused.

“I feel terribly guilty, since I may have been the cause of some misunderstanding.”

The other young ladies turned toward them, curious.

“Yes. In fact, Lady Meisel, I was waiting for you to bring that up,” said the Grand Duchess.

“Y-You were?”

That wasn’t the reaction Meisel had expected.

A faint smile curved the Grand Duchess’s lips.

“But it wouldn’t be much fun to talk about it just between us, would it? Everyone should hear.”

Her gaze swept slowly across the room.

“You all know about the incident in Goldrain, don’t you?”

Of course they did.

People might have pretended not to gossip, but everyone in Blenheim knew the story.

“Well,” the Grand Duchess said evenly, “that incident was actually orchestrated by Lady Meisel.”

Gasps spread through the room.

“W-What are you saying!”

Meisel’s face flushed scarlet.

‘Has she gone insane?’

“You can’t just accuse me without any evidence!”

“And not long ago, there was almost a protest in Blenheim—against me,” the Grand Duchess continued, her voice calm.

“That, too, was Lady Meisel’s doing.”

Rozel turned to her in disbelief.

“So that’s why you were questioned!”

‘No, it wasn’t! That was the merchant guild leader’s plan!’

But Meisel couldn’t say that—doing so would expose her own crimes.

‘That poison should’ve been used on her instead!’

She straightened her back, forcing a look of pride.

“I am the daughter of Count Avoir. Even Your Grace cannot accuse me of such things without proof.”

“You’re right,” the Grand Duchess said quietly.

She nodded in agreement, though her expression was strangely composed.

“Without evidence, I can’t punish you.”

Her calm confidence was unsettling—too assured for someone making a baseless claim.

‘Marzella must have talked before she died.’

Realizing this, Meisel quickly spoke up.

“I don’t know what lies Marzella told you, but I swear—”

“The head maid is dead,” the Grand Duchess said flatly.

“…!”

The tea room fell into stunned silence.

The young ladies froze, their expressions turning pale as they processed the words.

“She… she’s dead?” Meisel’s voice trembled.

“Oh dear, Lady Meisel,” the Grand Duchess said with a gentle smile. “You seem quite shocked.”

“W-Why… why would she die…”

Meisel felt her lips twitch upward despite herself—and quickly forced them down again.