"Miss, is there something in that ring?"
Dora seemed to have realized something as she watched Neris caress the ring since morning, typical of her perceptive background.
"Shall we see?"
The moment Neris's finger caressed the ring, the lid of the ring popped open.
Between the pearl of the ring and the band, there was a small, snug space created. Originally, it was a somewhat insignificant device where a very small portrait or similar item could be placed.
In the center of that space, there was a deep groove, and although it had dried up and become brittle, there were clear traces of what was likely a liquid substance before.
Neris had never personally owned such an item. The means she primarily used to manipulate others were different. However, being part of the upper social circles, she had heard enough about it.
Dora stood next to Neris with a serious expression, peering into the ring.
"Poison?"
"Likely."
It was probably an item brought to feed the late Duke. However, things changed when the late Duchess fell in love, and it likely remained intact in this drawer.
It made sense that the late Duchess disliked others touching her drawer. A grand Duchess of dubious origin having such an item. It would be odd if the maids were allowed to touch her belongings freely.
Leaving the ring in the drawer without getting rid of it, despite it being conspicuous to someone, seemed to hold significance.
"Is it evidence?"
Dora agreed with Neris's question, which had many details omitted.
"Likely so."
"Meaning it's a method he used well."
The late Duke probably knew he would die. He would have been well aware of his father's character and the fate of the failed mistress. And he likely left evidence before his death.
For someone to discover and use it someday.
"The poison wasn't detected when the late Duke fell ill, right?"
"Yes, Miss. Otherwise, the late Duke would have..."
"The Price of Everything Chapter 124
The Ending that Suits Catherine Haricot
"Miss, is there something in that ring?"
Dora seemed to have realized something as she watched Neris caress the ring since morning, typical of her perceptive background.
"Shall we see?"
The moment Neris's finger caressed the ring, the lid of the ring popped open.
Between the pearl of the ring and the band, there was a small, snug space created. Originally, it was a somewhat insignificant device where a very small portrait or similar item could be placed.
In the center of that space, there was a deep groove, and although it had dried up and become brittle, there were clear traces of what was likely a liquid substance before.
Neris had never personally owned such an item. The means she primarily used to manipulate others were different. However, being part of the upper social circles, she had heard enough about it.
Dora stood next to Neris with a serious expression, peering into the ring.
"Poison?"
"Likely."
It was probably an item brought to feed the late Duke. However, things changed when the late Duchess fell in love, and it likely remained intact in this drawer.
It made sense that the late Duchess disliked others touching her drawer. A grand Duchess of dubious origin having such an item. It would be odd if the maids were allowed to touch her belongings freely.
Leaving the ring in the drawer without getting rid of it, despite it being conspicuous to someone, seemed to hold significance.
"Is it evidence?"
Dora agreed with Neris's question, which had many details omitted.
"Likely so."
"Meaning it's a method he used well."
The late Duke probably knew he would die. He would have been well aware of his father's character and the fate of the failed mistress. And he likely left evidence before his death.
For someone to discover and use it someday.
"The poison wasn't detected when the late Duke fell ill, right?"
"Yes, Miss. Otherwise, the late Duke would have..."
"Yes, that's right. They probably left the Marquis alone because there was truly no evidence left behind. Neither the late Duke nor Cladwyn.
Perhaps this dried-up liquid is the poison of the Tiphian family's vision. It probably doesn't detect well. At least not for the doctors and a few priests in this land.
Neris sighed and closed the rocket device of the ring. Then, with a stern face, she said,
"Bring me paper. I'm going to write invitations."
It was time to unveil Catherine Haricot's mask.
Dora, feeling indignant, left the room. Left alone, Neris closed the lid of the ring and gazed at the surface of the old baroque pearl for a while. And she murmured to herself.
'You must have felt unjust.'
Pushing the bloodline when needed for a dangerous mission... but when it was deemed no longer useful, easily discarding it. Yet, their own small 'real' family was the most precious in the world.
Valentin's face came to mind. Ultimately, the disgusting face of Nelushion, who found a princess position for her 'real' younger sibling.
"Don't worry."
Unconsciously, a vow slipped through Neris's lips.
"I'll avenge you. Especially since your enemy is blocking my path."
❖ ❖ ❖
Catherine examined the invitation that the maid had just handed her.
It was meticulously crafted. Elegant handwriting on fine paper. Literary sentences from someone undoubtedly well-educated.
Every time she encountered Neris's elegance, Catherine felt uneasy. While she was an easy opponent in terms of rivalry, it didn't mean Catherine had any fondness for Neris Trude.
'Are you still pretending to have the luxury to come and go as you please? Or are you trying to show that you can get along with me now?'
If it was the latter, wasn't there something she should do first? Perhaps retreat immediately from the Western Palace where the late Duchess supposedly lived with her mother.
'The Marquis seemed quite fixated.'
She had also heard the shocking secret that the late Duke was a bastard. A child born from a maid who seduced the Marquis. A woman who grew up receiving her father's support in a small village close to the Marquis's estate. Knowing such a past was essential for good acting, wasn't it?
The Marquis had only told Catherine that much. Did he die from illness after getting married?
Catherine suspected there was more. Hiring a tutor to teach her granddaughter to seduce her own grandson, the senile old man who was obsessed with his dead daughter's imitation and clung to the palace where she stayed, all seemed strange.
'Whether by force or by choice, I was told to enter the palace first. That's half the battle.'
After all, she didn't know what secret lay ahead. As long as she was guaranteed a secure life for the rest of her days.
"I should go."
Catherine smiled slyly. Even the invitation to have tea at the Western Palace was a scorpion. It would be good to see where she would be staying in the future.
Catherine dressed slowly and meticulously. Not her usual modest and neat attire, but a bright and elaborate outfit like a proclamation. With confidence, she left the room and headed towards the Western Palace.
"Welcome, Miss Catherine."
Even in this winter, with a lush courtyard and a beautiful path, Ellen stood at the door of the Western Palace. Catherine quickly greeted Ellen with a playful tone.
"Hello, Ellen. I'm glad you're here to welcome me."
"Not at all. You're a precious guest; it wouldn't do to serve you anything less than the best."
Huh? Catherine paused for a moment. Maybe it was just her imagination, but she sensed a subtle barrier from Ellen, something unusual. Though Ellen's face was smiling and her tone as kind as always.
But before Catherine could dwell on it, Ellen smiled and gestured toward the inner part of the western palace.
"It's cold, Miss Catherine. Please, come inside."
"Ah, right."
The brief sense of unease was soon overshadowed by her wariness toward the person waiting inside the palace. Catherine smiled and stepped through the door.
The place where Nerys had called her for a conversation was a small drawing room. It was an elegant space, with a large glass window overlooking the western palace garden and filled with slightly old but classic furniture.
The western palace was not the dark and oppressive structure typical of the northern region; it was a beautifully decorated palace, bright and refined, and the drawing room was no exception, showcasing a sophisticated style. Catherine energetically greeted as she glanced at the golden decorations above the fireplace.
"Good morning, Advisor."
Nerys, who was sitting at the tea table near the window, slowly turned her head to look at Catherine.
Her movement was extremely smooth and effortless. Dressed in a simple black dress with no trace of makeup, her presence seemed to weigh down all the trivial light in the room.
The light coming through the window outlined Nerys' silhouette as if she were glowing. Catherine felt the same discomfort as when she had seen the invitation earlier. It became clear again that Nerys Trude was far, far more suited to the position of Grand Duchess than she ever was.
"Miss Haricot. Thank you for coming."
Despite her sour mood, the smile on Catherine's face faltered momentarily at those words.
Of course, it was only natural for Nerys to thank her for coming. After all, Nerys lived in the western palace, and Catherine was the visitor. But what bothered her was the indifferent gaze, as if Nerys were looking down on someone beneath her.
As if she had never even considered Catherine an equal from the start.
At that moment, Catherine finally realized the true purpose of the invitation.
It wasn't to maintain good relations, not at all.
Nerys Trude had called Catherine here to assert that she was the true mistress of the western palace. At least for now.
'How dare she!'
Catherine had never lost to another woman before. Especially when it came to matters involving men.
Her confidence, built over years, had turned into arrogance, making her complacent. The rosy vision of quickly rising from the status of a scorned actress to the position of a high noblewoman had clouded her judgment.
Thus, ignoring the ominous instinct creeping up, Catherine let her anger take over. And she smiled brightly. It was the same cheerful expression she had practiced thousands of times, coached by acquaintances of the former Grand Duchess, under the threat of the Marquis.
"Of course I had to come. I'd love to be close to you, Advisor."
Ellen pulled out Catherine's chair. After setting the refreshments for the two of them, she quietly left the drawing room. Dora, who hadn't been present from the start, left the two alone in the room.
"It seems Dora, who's always with you, isn't around, and Ellen is gone too. Everyone must be busy today. Even His Highness isn't here."
"Just because His Highness is absent doesn't mean we can slack off. In fact, there are some matters that require more attention when His Highness is not present."
"Is that so? You and everyone else here are truly dedicated. I'm glad to have met such wonderful people."
If no one was around, that was even better. Catherine wanted to push the issue in Ellen's absence and see the face of this irritating woman stiffen.
Blushing slightly, Catherine lowered her gaze. Then, like a shy but not overly coy young lady, she spoke sincerely.
"Well… the Grand Duke told me that soon he will make our relationship official, and when spring comes, I won't have to return to the Marquisate… That's what he said. Once I become part of the family… I will need a lot of help from you, Advisor."
When Catherine glanced over at Nerys' face, it was frozen, just as she had hoped.
'Got her.'
After spending several days advising the Grand Duke on romantic matters, Catherine had come to understand their relationship just as she had perceived it.
The Grand Duke seemed to believe he had little chance with Nerys, while Nerys, though clearly harboring feelings for him, was distancing herself out of pride.
So, even if Catherine hinted that the Grand Duke's heart had shifted, Nerys wouldn't go and verify the facts with him. While the Grand Duke hadn't shown much interest in Catherine yet, that was just a matter of time.
'Now, with the proud Advisor turning cold, I'll always be there by his side, warm and supportive. It's better to have someone to compare to, after all.'
This wasn't her first time playing such a game. Catherine already felt a sense of relief.
Nerys gently ran her elegant fingers over the handle of her teacup. She remained silent for quite some time before finally speaking.
"Miss Haricot, congratulations."
"Oh my, thank you."
Catherine was satisfied with Nerys' compliant attitude. There would be no need to worry about Nerys Trude anymore.
Nerys lifted her eyes and met Catherine's gaze.
"So, will you soon become the mistress of this western palace?"
"Well, not exactly… I'm not sure yet."
"Even if you don't want it, once you marry the Grand Duke, it will come to pass. May I ask you one thing? Now that things are like this, telling me one secret won't change anything."
Catherine thought Nerys made a lot of sense. Yes… that's true, isn't it? Nothing will change, after all.
Her mind wandered for a moment. Then, almost absentmindedly, she asked:
"What are you curious about?"
"When you enter the western palace, what will be the first thing you do?"
This was easy. Catherine answered obediently, revealing the truth buried deep inside her heart.
"That rough garden… I'll clean it up and throw a party to show everyone that I've become the Grand Duchess. So that everyone can admire me…."
"I see."
Nerys smiled. Her eyes, sparkling with countless shades, curved as if she were looking at Catherine with pity.
"You really don't know anything, do you? If you knew more, you would realize there's somewhere you'd need to address first, before that. You should be grateful you don't know."
Catherine couldn't understand what Nerys Trude was saying. She stared at her with slightly unfocused eyes. But her suspicion was soon swallowed by an overwhelming trust in the words of the woman before her.
Yes, I must not know something…
Nerys continued to smile.
"The Marquis is hiding something important from you. Even if you succeed in your mission, he will soon betray you. He's someone who would even betray his own child. If you want to survive, always speak your mind. Your strength lies in your honesty, and surely, everyone will care for you and help you."
For Catherine Haricot, whose entire existence was built on lies, that was the most fitting conclusion.