Andersen looked around and lowered his voice.
“My lady, I didn't expect you to be someone who would cause such a massive disaster.”
He acted extremely cautious, despite there being no one around to listen.
“No matter how much it's for research...! I'm desperately suppressing the urge to experiment on my own students, I'll have you know!”
“Is that the issue here?”
“Ahem, there's a limit to being bold. Human experimentation is taboo.”
Andersen shook his head vigorously.
“I will pretend I didn't see what I just saw. I don't want to lose a promising student... no, not yet. Because I don't want to lose a promising talent.”
For a moment, Rose was unsure whether she should react to the promise of him turning a blind eye or to the fact that he was already treating her as a student.
“His Grace obviously doesn't know about this, does he?”
Andersen sent her a desperate look, as if pleading for her to say yes. Rose hesitated for a moment before finally answering.
“He permitted it.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“It's something His Grace permitted.”
“...Oh.”
Andersen's eyes rolled in circles.
“Hmm...”
Then, he suddenly spotted Dane's clothes folded next to a laboratory chair.
“...It's true.”
He stared blankly into the air for a moment before speaking.
“I saw nothing. Please don't drag me into this. Ugh, but I don't want to lose a wealthy and powerful investor...”
“Andersen-nim.”
Rose quickly put a stop to Andersen's runaway imagination.
“This Magical Device is for studying internal mana capacity. The graph you saw earlier was extracted from this.”
“Internal mana capacity?”
Only then did Andersen snap out of his delusions. He closely examined the chair next to him, the gauges, and the connected tubes, then had a sudden realization.
“...Don't tell me, this is His Grace's?”
Even though Andersen had only said that much, he quickly deduced the rest of what Rose had left unsaid.
Flap.
He unfolded the paper he had tucked away and began examining it closely.
“This is... truly strange. The graph of someone with Duke Dane's mana capacity cannot look like this.”
It seemed Andersen was already convinced this was Dane's graph. Rose neither confirmed nor denied it.
“How is this possible?”
Instead, she tried to resolve the question she had been harboring all along.
“How can you interfere with a person's innate internal mana capacity?”
“For this to be possible, there's one thing... but no way. No, that couldn't be possible for a human.”
Looking bewildered, Andersen clutched his head.
“What is it?”
“Could you wait a few days? I need to do some research before I can give you a definitive answer. ”
Instead of answering, Rose stared at Andersen for a moment. From her gaze, he seemed to realize something.
“...This is urgent, isn't it? Am I right?”
“Yes, Andersen-nim. And I'd like only you and I to know about this.”
“No wonder...”
Andersen let out a deep sigh, *phew*.
“His Grace was acting out of character. So that was it... I see. It was about His Grace's body... oops.”
He had nearly blurted it out without thinking and quickly caught himself.
Rustle.
Andersen carefully folded the paper and tucked it into his coat. His expression was resolute.
“Understood. I wouldn't want to lose a good investor either. I'll cooperate.”
“Thank you, Andersen-nim.”
Rose swallowed a sigh of relief.
She felt she could trust Andersen. After all, he was even willing to turn a blind eye to the fact that she had conducted human experimentation.
“Please hurry.”
Rose added in a heavy tone.
**
Rumble.
Rain fell from the ash-gray sky. It was gloomy weather, much like the people gathered here.
Step, step.
People gathered at the chapel owned by the Marcus family.
Beneath the wall where the family's coat of arms hung, a coffin draped in black cloth was placed. Black cloth covered everything in sight—the altar, the pillars, and everything else.
“*Sniffle*, *sob*...”
Countess Marcus's soft weeping mingled with the sound of the rain. She sobbed quietly under her black veil.
Step.
Count Olsen stepped into the chapel. The scent of incense and candle smoke intertwined as he cut through the damp air and approached the coffin.
He immediately offered his condolences to Count Marcus, who was standing in front of the coffin.
“...You're here?”
Count Marcus spoke in a heavy, strained voice.
“My condolences.”
Count Olsen replied matter-of-factly, but that was enough.
“A moment.”
Count Marcus led Count Olsen away from the scene. They hid themselves among the trees outside the chapel, in a secluded spot.
As soon as he was sure there were no listening ears, Count Olsen asked.
“Where did you find it?”
“...In the carriage.”
Count Marcus bit his lip and added.
“Inside the carriage... they left only the head.”
“Good grief.”
“He was such a good boy...”
Unable to contain his surging emotions, Count Marcus covered his face.
The boy had gone out saying he would buy a gift for his older sister. But the carriage returned to the mansion without a coachman.
And inside it...
‘*Kyaaah!*’
Cordelia, who had checked inside the carriage, had been bedridden since that day. She was withering away, agonizing in her bed.
Count Marcus muttered with a troubled expression.
“We should have been careful earlier...”
“Don't say that. No one could have known.”
Count Olsen pointed out in a cold tone.
“Who knew Dane Schmaichel would suddenly go on such a rampage?”
Dane had sent his gifts methodically and thoroughly, as if he had been preparing them for a very long time.
One family found a head placed at the head of a bed. The maid who drew back the curtains fainted on the spot.
Another family had one delivered to their kitchen. The moment they lifted the food cover, everyone was forced to see the blood-soaked head.
The explicit and brutal method made it immediately clear who the sender was.
“Crazy bastard...”
Count Olsen rubbed his throbbing forehead.
“Why is he doing this now after keeping quiet for three years?”
The tiger of the snow mountains, which had been crouching, rose to its feet and revealed its hidden claws. The claws it had sharpened for so long were so deadly that even a mere graze inflicted a fatal wound.
These were incidents happening only to the families that had taken Henrik's side and pointed their swords at Dane.
The targeted families huddled together, trembling in fear, while those spared held their breath, waiting for the claws to pass them by.
“...I don't know.”
Count Marcus muttered in a depressed voice.
“I don't know anymore. I want to drop everything...”
“Have you lost your mind?”
Count Olsen flared up in anger.
“You want to back out now? Do you think that's even possible?”
“Damn it, if we lose Cordelia too...”
Count Marcus trembled with fear.
When he first started this, he never imagined he would end up in such a situation.
The Schmaichel family was an empty void, and placing Cordelia there had been a strategic choice.
Since everyone else was doing it, he, too, had attempted to assassinate Dane. He hadn't thought deeply about the aftermath.
He had acted on the complacent assumption that Dane would eventually die and someone would succeed.
“That's exactly why we need to strike first!”
Count Olsen beat his chest in frustration.
“He's already out for revenge. Do you think he'll just let you go if you back out now?”
“......”
“Cordelia could be next! We need to band together before that happens!”
“Aren't you... aren't you afraid?”
“I have nothing left to lose anyway.”
Count Olsen's daughter had died while she was the Duchess of Schmaichel. She had been attacked while riding in a carriage.
Not even her body had been found. That had been his lifelong regret.
“I won't be satisfied until I see the bastard die.”
Count Olsen's eyes burned like torches, fueled by a father's thirst for vengeance over the loss of his daughter.
“If only I hadn't started this...”
“Stop spouting nonsense!”
Count Olsen glared at Count Marcus's face. It was a face that had seemingly aged overnight over the past few days, making him look far more exhausted than he actually was.
How could he talk about jumping ship midway when they were already on the same boat? If he was going to make such cowardly remarks, he shouldn't have boarded in the first place.
“It's too late for that. Do you think Sir Henrik would just leave someone who tries to walk away alone?”
“Ugh.”
At the valid point, Count Marcus gritted his teeth.
Count Olsen was right. There were no other options now. They either had to tuck their tails and retreat, or bite back.
Count Olsen urged him on as he slowly began to shed his fear.
“Hurry up and decide. The other families have already united.”
“What are you planning to do?”
“We have to show him that a cornered mouse will fight. Soon—”
That was when it happened.
“Father.”
A voice called out from behind the two men.
“...!”
“Cordelia!”
Startled, the two men turned around and found Cordelia standing there like a ghost.
Her once vibrant and beautiful face was nowhere to be seen. A face as pale as a corpse turned toward Count Marcus.
“You're going to do it, right?”
Cordelia smiled with eyes that seemed filled with words of desperate hope.
“W-what do you mean?”
Count Marcus's lips trembled. It was chilling to see that the daughter before him didn't seem to be the person he had known all this time.
“If you're going to do it, please grant my request as well.”
The corners of Cordelia's lips slid upward.
“Rose Schmaichel. Please kill that woman.”
**
Clatter.
The carriage began to move.
“How was today?”
Lately, conversing with Rose in the carriage had become second nature.
Attending and making dedications at the monastery, tea parties, charity events, and relief activities...
I had shown my face alongside Rose at all sorts of events.
This was effectively announcing far and wide that the Schmaichel family was alive and well, and that I would rightfully take over the household.
“A few families were absent today.”
Rose replied in a calm tone.
Rose herself seemed to be quickly adapting to life as the Duchess.
I was so pleased with how Rose handled things, to the point I felt I would miss her significantly if she left.
“I see.”
I could roughly guess which families had been absent. After all, I had been busy sending them gifts lately.
‘They weren't the type to just sit still.’
Just in case, I had doubled the castle guards and the carriage escort personnel.
I could feel the air around Schmaichel Castle growing intensely tense. The public's attention was entirely focused on this place.
“Your Grace, about the examination of your body last time.”
“Hmm.”
“I spoke with Andersen-nim, and I think I've found a few clues.”