Creeeak.
The long-unused hinge made a chilling sound. The Marquis, sitting in the corner with a disgruntled look, glanced at the door, his expression suddenly softening with apparent pleasure.
Nerys thought to herself that the Marquis didn't look nearly as disheveled as she had expected. Fooling a high noble by claiming the actress was a distant relative and bringing her into the castle didn't seem like a sufficient reason to torture someone of his rank. But who knew?
Soon enough, the old man would be freed, she thought, as he waited idly in his small confinement room in the palace, where he would likely face a fate he never imagined in his lifetime.
"Your Grace, are you well? I apologize for not visiting sooner."
Nerys offered a polite, apologetic smile. The door closed behind her.
"How are things outside? That damn fool, locking an old man and high noble from another territory in this filthy warehouse over such a trivial matter?"
It seemed that everything this man did could be reduced to "such a trivial matter." Nerys glanced around the room.
To a commoner, the room could be considered average. There was a small window high up on the wall, a fireplace, and a bed. The space was quite extravagant for someone who had tried to kill both his daughter and grandson.
However, for Tipian, the Marquis who had always eaten and worn the best, this would likely feel more like a storage room. There was no one to attend to him, which only made it worse.
It was laughable, but Nerys didn't let the amusement show. She walked over to the Marquis's side and whispered.
"Things have become difficult, Your Grace."
"Huh? What do you mean by difficult? Didn't you come to free me?"
The Marquis was completely trapped in this room. This was about what he had roughly expected when the identity of the "fox woman" was revealed.
*'They must want to take out their frustrations on me. The child who doesn't even recognize their parent.'*
He had endured all kinds of hardships—according to his own standards—at a place that didn't suit his status. But he knew well that he couldn't stay here forever. After all, no matter how much he had brought an actress to stir things up, it wasn't enough grounds to imprison another high nobleman.
Above all, he trusted Nerys. She was the only one who knew his true identity in this barbaric northern land. She even wielded considerable influence over the Duke, after all.
So when he saw her coming in, he thought, *'Finally, I'm getting out.'* But was that really the case? The Marquis frowned, displeased.
Nerys whispered softly, as if to comfort him.
"Please, look at my hand, Your Grace."
The Marquis, without much thought, glanced at her hand. His eyes widened in surprise.
"This, this is..."
"It seems you recognize it."
A large Baroque pearl ring. The Marquis certainly knew that item well—it had been given to him by the late Duchess, the previous Grand Duchess.
He had spent years searching for it after her death, but it had never been found, and now here it was—an item that had been the seed of his downfall.
His hand instinctively reached toward the ring on Nerys's finger. However, she pulled her hand back, smiling gently.
"I cannot give it to you, Your Grace. The Duke entrusted this to me, and if it were to disappear, I would be suspected."
"Is... is that so?"
He was right. The Marquis thought Nerys's gaze was extremely cold, but he didn't dare question it. No, he didn't even want to.
Now that the ring had been discovered, without her cooperation, he could find himself in a very difficult situation. He couldn't even control the Grand Duchess...
The Marquis unknowingly trembled his right pinky finger. It was the finger adorned with an emerald ring.
"I've seen what's inside the ring. The Duke probably knows too. As you know, Miss Haricot has been speculating in front of people about what the two of us are plotting, which has put me in a bit of a difficult position. Giving me the ring in such circumstances was likely a test."
"A test? To see if you get rid of the evidence? The Duke loves you, doesn't he?"
It was a hopeful remark from the Marquis, but Nerys's eyes grew even colder than before.
"What does love mean to someone of his status? And when a trusted person betrays you, the anger is even stronger. The Duke's anger toward you is not ordinary."
When Nerys first entered the room, the Marquis's face had been relaxed, but now cold sweat began to bead on his forehead. The more he looked into her eyes, the more he felt fear creeping in. It felt as if his chest was filled with ice.
"It's, it's an old matter. This is my mistake, isn't it? Anyway, what's in the ring can only be detected by a high-ranking priest, one of cardinal rank or above. And there are no such priests in the North. If you just say the right words, nothing will happen. I'll return safely to my family, and I'll help you become the Grand Duchess. If your family is a problem, I can adopt you as my daughter. How many people get the chance to be the daughter of the Marquis?"
"Such an excessive remark. How could someone like me fit into the Marquis's family?"
Even if he offered her the title of duchess, she would refuse it. Nerys responded to the Marquis's offer, as if he had done her a favor, and laughed silently for a moment.
There were candles in the room, but since they were for prisoners, they were of poor quality and in short supply. In the dark room, the Marquis thought Nerys seemed to be something completely separate from this place.
"What... do you remember?"
Implication was well received. Nerys stared straight into the viscount's eyes and whispered.
"You have killed your daughter."
"My... daughter...."
"Yes. You believed that a despicable person like yourself was family, and you ultimately killed the young woman who came here risking her life for the mission, thinking she was part of your family. You may not have acknowledged it, but she was your daughter and probably trusted you."
Nerys's voice turned sharp. The joy vanished from the viscount's face. Pain emerged in his unfocused eyes.
Perhaps for the first time in his life, accompanied by a sense of guilt.
"Yes, that child... trusted me. It was easy..."
"It is a very sad thing to have no one to love in this world, and how well those bastards dig into that painful heart. You may have thought you lived cleverly all this time, but the day of reckoning will surely come."
Yes... if the punishment does not come on its own, she was willing to stake everything to make it happen.
Nerys put on a sympathetic expression.
"Unfortunately. You will be betrayed by everyone you believed in, strive but gain nothing, cry but receive no comfort."
Fear. Astonishment. Vague despair... The viscount's eyes were so filled with these emotions that he could no longer widen them. Tears streamed down his high-cheekboned face involuntarily.
Nerys knelt before him, who had fearfully bowed his head. And she continued to meet his eyes, making it impossible to avoid her gaze.
"Don't worry. You won't die right away. When winter ends, we'll find a way to escape. Think carefully until you return to the Viscount. Shouting at others, not admitting one's own mistakes, and abandoning one's own flesh and blood... Will the Viscount truly seek redemption?"
The tone is gentle and respectful. Although it may be a term the old man would appreciate, Nerys believed she should interpret the expression differently.
Could there really be someone who could cater to the whims of this capricious old man without knowing anything?
Would the father who inquired about the woman with green eyes resembling his deceased wife to marry his grandson truly be worthy of admiration and follow through?
Would the middle-aged Tifian Gong, with his modest demeanor, naively believe that his father would always favor him as well?
Moreover, the Viscount had been so healthy and vigorous up to this age. Most nobles of his age were at the level of Tifian Gong, and could he really be content living in a situation where he couldn't even speak a word against his father?
The Viscount opened his mouth and took a deep breath. It was as if he was now realizing his age.
Nerys stood up. As if she believed only she could save herself, the Viscount's eyes followed her gaze.
"Viscount Tifian will leave only traces. You have made it so, Your Excellency, so you have no reason to feel unjust. While you are in the castle, I will occasionally visit so you won't feel lonely."
Perhaps realizing her intention to leave now, the Viscount reached out and grabbed her sleeve. However, Nerys forcefully shook off his hand.
"Oh, I almost forgot. To pressure the Duke for revenge, you must first know his secret passage. You must be curious how someone who has never passed through Viscount Tifian suddenly appeared before the Duke?"
Yes, the Duke's weakness! That needed to be uncovered. Time and logic were both muddled in the Viscount's mind. Unable to even judge his own thoughts, he clung to Nerys's words as if they were a lifeline.
"Aylora. I came here through that place. If you write a letter to the Duke informing him of this fact, I will deliver it. Wouldn't Your Excellency's influence in the empire diminish if the Duke freely roams without going through the Viscount?"
Aylora was the border area between Viscount Tifian and the Imperial Direct Command. Among the many territories directly owned by the Imperial Family, it was a small place that didn't stand out much.
"I... need to... monitor... that... place."
As if Nerys's words were of great help to him, the Viscount clenched his fist with a face that regained hope.
Leaving him behind, Nerys walked out of the room. She closed the door behind her and put on a fierce expression.
If the Viscount were to deploy soldiers in Aylora, the Imperial Family would be greatly surprised. The Viscount might not know, but the Imperial side had a military base hidden in that area.
Although operated around a small group of rangers, deploying soldiers on the border with a non-hostile lord was a serious offense. If the Viscount were to find a place that could be a 'secret passage' and show interest, the Imperial side would likely think that the Viscount dared to exploit the Imperial weakness.
While Nerys's abilities were formidable, they had a drawback of being unusable against opponents who avoided eye contact. But so what?
With proper manipulation, one could influence even those far away in the capital.
"A gift, Kamil."
Her past life's sister would search in vain for spies for a while. And she would send away her loyal subordinates. It was merely a game of nibbling away at her own flesh.
And in that process, Viscount Tifian would begin to walk the path of downfall.
Hinting at this slightly, Nerys started walking down the dark corridor.