Chapter 48
A hardened anticipation gleamed in their slanted eyes. There was a certain pleasure in being able to look at Idyll Canyon, which possessed the things they had always desired but never possessed.
"So, the Imperial Knights were expelled because of you? You're still good at charming men, huh?"
“Or rather… shouldn’t a criminal live quietly instead of going out to public places and laughing? Are you in your right mind?”
“She must have lost her mind. After all, she must have been through it while being dragged here. If it were me, I would have chosen an honorable death.”
They deliberately mocked her in a mean tone, hoping to see Idil hurt and cry.
Edel saw Marsha's face blending into theirs.
After realizing this, Idell was no longer afraid of them. She only felt sorry for Daisy.
“If you wish to know the details concerning the Imperial Knights, you may check the military court records. Count Crisisse has allowed me to leave, and fortunately – or unfortunately – I am still of sound mind.”
With a calm smile, Idell responded without any sign of distress, leaving them both looking stunned.
Not wanting to spoil her beautiful day by continuing the conversation, Edel decided to end it.
“I hope you understand that I cannot share any more details. The Count has ordered me to keep quiet. I wish you a pleasant outing.”
She gave a small bow.
Although she was of a lower rank and could not leave first, she maintained her composure while skillfully rejecting them.
Lucille's friends, upon hearing Edel mention Count Crisis, reluctantly prepared to leave.
But not Lucille.
“Is selling yourself as a second wife to an old man not enough for you? You have become the mercenary’s mistress, too?”
"What do you mean by that?"
“To summon that mercenary ‘Count’ and walk around looking good after you’ve been enslaved – what else could that mean?”
The second wife of an old man, a mercenary's mistress, a slave/prisoner.
Her malicious words were intended to stab Idil in the back, spoken loudly enough for those nearby to hear. As expected, everyone turned their attention to Idil.
“That’s not true! Idil isn’t like that…!”
Just as Daisy surged forward in defense, Edel stopped her.
“I didn’t know I had a mistress.”
At that moment, a familiar voice cut through the puffs. Idell turned towards it.
“I’m curious – how do you know what I don’t?”
Laszlo approached, dispersing the assembled crowd with quiet steps.
Everyone – Idell, Daisy, Lucille, and her friends – was surprised.
Unfazed, Laszlo stepped directly towards Lucille, towering above her, and repeated what he had said.
"I asked, 'How did you know?'"
“N-no, that’s not what I meant…”
"So you're spreading baseless rumors about my private affairs without knowing the truth?"
Lucille stammered with embarrassment, and her friends exchanged nervous glances, unsure of what to do.
The spectators, who sensed the situation, began laughing at Lucille.
"It seems she was jealous of that maid."
"Well, the maid is prettier."
“I thought she was looking for trouble from the start.”
Although the comments were muted, Lucille heard them. Her face flushed with embarrassment, and she raised her voice defensively.
"Are you threatening me now? Is this what a guard commander should be doing? Show some chivalry!"
“Weren’t you just calling me a ‘mercenary’? Shouldn’t you be grateful that a ‘mercenary’ is acting with such nobility?”
Lucille's face became paler.
But Laszlo didn't finish.
"Edel. What is this woman's name?"
“…Her maiden name is Lucille Arten. I don’t know her married name.”
“So she tried to tarnish my reputation – perhaps with the aim of insulting His Majesty the Emperor as well. Where should I place the responsibility for that?”
Lucille gasped and clasped her hands together in panic.
“I-I’m sorry, Count! I really didn’t mean to offend you!”
“If you weren’t trying to insult me, how did the word ‘mercenary’ come out of your mouth? And even if your goal was just to insult my maid, do you think I would laugh at that?”
Laszlo's gaze became harsher than ever.
Lucille was on the verge of tears, stamping her feet in frustration, while her friends rolled their eyes, horrified.
But the person who felt the most panic was Edel.
'Lots of fun for us on Saturday, Daisy…'
She had simply planned to spend the day with Daisy, sketching their portraits, doing some shopping, and enjoying a delicious meal before heading home. But at this rate, it seemed as though the city guards were about to appear, escalating the situation.
At that moment, Laszlo, who had taken a quick look at Edel, suddenly changed his tone.
“This is upsetting, and I don’t want to waste time looking into it any further. Let’s settle this quickly. If you apologize to me and my maid now, we’ll forget this ever happened.”
Lucille immediately bowed to Laszlo.
“I am truly sorry. I acted recklessly and rudely. It will not happen again.”
"Good. Now, there's someone else you need to apologize to."
Edel doubted that Lucille would apologize to her. But to her surprise, Lucille stepped forward, lowered her head, and spoke quickly.
“I’m sorry, Edel. I was wrong. Will you forgive me?”
Her hands were trembling. Whether the apology was genuine or not, Edel wanted the situation to end quickly, so she nodded without hesitation.
“I accept your apology.”
"Thank you, Idel."
And with that, the incident was resolved.
Laszlo allowed Lucille and her friends to leave, and they hurried off as if they were running away.
The assembled spectators also quickly dispersed.
Only then did Edel notice that Linnea and Marco's driver were watching the whole scene.
Linnea looked at Lucille's retreating group with disdain.
"Therefore, these nobles are not a big problem after all."
She mocked and rejected the aristocratic women she once considered frightening.
"What are you doing here?"
Laszlo asked Edel as if blaming her for all the fuss.
“I came to get a portrait painted with Daisy. We were looking for a good place, but unfortunately, I ran into someone I know. I’m sorry about the trouble.”
Laszlo shrugged and replied:
“I don’t think there’s anything to apologize for, a picture, huh…?”
He looked at the bridge crowded with artists and their easels, then asked again.
"Why here, of all places? What's so special about it?"
"They take quick selfies at a low price,"
Edel explained, hoping that Laszlo would take Linnea and leave soon - there was still so much she and Daisy wanted to do.
But suddenly Linnea entered.
“I want a picture with my brother too.”
"Are you crazy?" Laszlo muttered.
"Why? You're my only family, and I don't know how much time we have left. I should at least get a picture to remember you by."
Idil did not realize that Linnea was thinking of Laszlo in this way, although it was normal for the family.
Laszlo's expression changed, as if Linnea's words had struck a sensitive chord.
“Okay, but not here, there are too many eyes.”
"Where are we going?"
“There is a place that serves only noble customers.”
"Do you know of any places like this?"
“If you don’t want to go, then don’t.”
"I want!"
Linnea shook her head vigorously, then turned to Idil and Daisy.
"Okay? What are you waiting for? Let's go."
"Wait, us too?"
Idil hesitated, confused.
“If you don’t enjoy being stared at, you’d better come with us,” Laszlo said casually.
It was only then that Idell noticed people were still glancing at them, including artists. With the previous commotion, sitting down to take a picture there was no longer a good idea.
Furthermore, I feel bad for Daisy…’
Edel nodded and followed Laszlo, with Daisy behind her.
**
The place where Laszlo took them was the studio of a famous portrait artist.
It appears that the studio was operating on a pre-booking system, but after Laszlo spoke a few words, the artist greeted them directly.
“Pastel picture? You’ve come to the right place! We can get it ready in less than 30 minutes.”
The artist said with a broad smile and great confidence.
Pastel images became a trend among the general public, eager to emulate the aristocracy. Ironically, this trend also spread among the nobility themselves.
“Normally, commissioning a portrait takes more than a month, even in the shortest time. But pastel art allows for that.”
The artist explained: “A much faster completion, and affordable enough to handle casually.”
The studio walls were lined with completed photographs awaiting collection, each one surpassing in quality the works sold on the bridge.
The studio's upscale atmosphere is suited to its aristocratic clientele; it is clean, well-lit, and furnished with spacious and comfortable chairs.