Granada's words left me stunned, frozen in place.
Callius calmly patted my back, grounding me as my mind reeled.
I barely managed to catch my breath.
"I... I think I misheard. Could you repeat that?"
Granada spoke clearly, without a trace of hesitation or shame.
"I was originally an assassin. In other words—a contract killer."
Her tone was so matter-of-fact, so utterly calm, that for a moment I wondered if this was some kind of elaborate jest.
But the steady weight of her gaze told me otherwise.
I swallowed hard and stared at Granada, searching her face for any sign of deception.
"After meeting the Saint in Ronheim, I washed my hands of that life. Now I repent for all my sins and live in gratitude for the second chance I've been given."
"..."
"In short—this is something I am truly an expert in. My assassination skills may have rusted, but I am still confident in my ability to deduce the psychology of a murderer and track the path of a fugitive."
"Oh. I... I see."
Without realizing it, I straightened my posture and adopted a more respectful stance before her.
An assassin. A professional killer. And now she serves me.
"There aren't many escape routes from Ronheim Castle. I will find Lamia and bring her back."
"Yes. Please do. I'm counting on you."
Granada gave a single, crisp nod.
She turned to leave immediately, moving with the smooth efficiency of someone who had done this a thousand times before.
But just before she disappeared through the doorway, she paused and glanced back at me.
"I believe you have excellent judgment, Madam. Have confidence in yourself."
"...!"
I stood there, staring blankly at Granada's retreating figure until she vanished completely from sight.
Excellent judgment...
The words echoed in my mind like a question I'd never dared to ask myself.
I waited for Granada in a secure location, surrounded by knights.
The banquet hall had been converted into a makeshift assembly point. Every single employee of the castle had been gathered there without exception—servants, guards, cooks, stablehands, everyone.
If Lamia isn't the murderer, then the real culprit must be somewhere in this room.
Before the investigation could even begin, I'd placed my personal maids directly at my side under strict supervision. This was to prevent any of them from secretly reporting what happened here back to Kavala.
The atmosphere in the hall was tense. People whispered nervously to one another, their eyes darting around the room with suspicion.
"Granada has arrived."
Mainz's quiet announcement drew my attention to the entrance.
Both Callius and I turned reflexively toward the banquet hall doors.
Granada—who had left with such confidence barely half an hour ago—now entered with great ceremony, striding through the crowd with the bearing of a conquering general.
And beside her, struggling against her iron grip, was Lamia.
"Let go of me!"
Lamia shouted sharply, twisting against Granada's hold, but the older woman didn't even blink. She simply marched forward, dragging Lamia along as if she weighed nothing at all.
When they reached me and Callius, Granada forced Lamia to her knees with a single, efficient motion.
"Lamia."
I looked down at her with the most severe expression I could manage.
Lamia answered reluctantly, her voice sullen, her eyes fixed stubbornly on the floor.
"...Yes."
"Look at me."
"..."
Slowly, Lamia raised her head. Her cheeks were slightly puffed with indignation.
When she saw my serious expression, she flinched.
"Did you kill Vanessa?"
Lamia's eyes widened. Then she let out a sharp, incredulous laugh.
"What are you talking about? Someone dies just because they get a little nosebleed? I didn't even hit her that hard! What kind of nonsense—"
She stopped mid-sentence, perhaps finally sensing the gravity of the atmosphere around her.
Her expression shifted from defiant confusion to dawning horror.
"Vanessa is... dead? Oh my God. Why? How? She didn't—she didn't kill herself because of me, did she...?"
Her face twisted with genuine shock and distress.
I watched her reaction carefully.
The entire banquet hall had gone silent. Everyone was staring at me now—waiting, watching.
Even Callius offered no guidance. He simply observed, as if curious to see what I would do.
Lamia's shock gradually gave way to a look of bitter betrayal. Her eyes, when they met mine, were filled with hurt.
"Are you doubting me? I don't know anything about this! I didn't do anything!"
It was painful to see that wounded look in her eyes—to see someone who had trusted me now feeling betrayed.
I want to defend her. I want to say, "I don't doubt you. I know it wasn't you."
But if I did that now, in front of all these people, it would look like I was being swayed by personal feelings rather than evidence.
It would undermine my authority as the Duchess of Ronheim.
I swallowed the ache in my chest and forced my expression to remain neutral.
"Then why did you try to run away?"
"I'm being falsely accused and imprisoned! So what—I'm just supposed to sit there and accept it? If I get caught by Arental's forces and dragged back to the capital, I might die! I have to survive somehow!"
"You didn't trust me."
"..."
Lamia fell silent.
Her eyes took on a strange, distant quality—as if she were looking at something far away that only she could see.
For the first time since I'd known her, she looked vulnerable. Almost fragile.
Lamia stared into space with slightly clouded eyes, as if reminiscing about painful memories from her past.
Finally, she spoke.
"I believed in you, Madam. But I didn't believe in what was going to happen to you and me. My life is my own. I couldn't leave it in the hands of others."
She emphasized her next words softly but with absolute conviction.
"I did nothing wrong. No one can harm me for that."
Her words didn't sound like a lie.
They sounded like the truth—raw and unpolished, spoken by someone who had learned the hard way that survival meant trusting no one but yourself.
I glanced toward Callius and Granada, silently asking for their opinion.
But even though they must have felt my gaze, neither of them said a word. They simply looked back at me with expressions that seemed to ask:
What are you going to do now?
I turned to look at the other people gathered in the banquet hall.
What...
Everyone was staring at me.
Servants. Guards. Knights. Cooks. Stablehands. Every single person in the room was watching me with expectant eyes, waiting for my decision.
They want me to decide?
I swallowed nervously.
At that moment, Andrea's voice—which I had heard countless times throughout my previous life whenever I tried to do anything—filled my head.
"Chloe, you help me most by just staying still."
"Don't even try to do anything, understand? Don't think about anything. Don't do anything. If you try to act, you'll only cause problems."
"Why does everything turn out like this? Just listen to your brother. That's all you need to do."
Words that made me cringe.
I had lived my entire previous life hearing those words—words that cut off my hands and feet, that reduced me to a scarecrow who could do nothing, decide nothing, be nothing.
And now they expected me to make a decision about something this important? In front of all these people?
Anxiety clawed at my chest, making it hard to breathe.
I can't do this. What if I'm wrong? What if I make the wrong choice and someone else dies because of it?
But then—
A powerful voice suddenly emerged from a corner of my mind, drowning out all of Andrea's cruel manipulations.
And then another voice joined hers—Lhasa's gentle encouragement.
"You have to believe in yourself. Don't hesitate to do what you think is right."
I looked down at Lamia, who knelt before me with her fists clenched, her expression a mixture of defiance and fear.
I don't think it's Lamia.
The Lamia I had come to know valued her own survival above everything else. She was pragmatic, clever, and deeply cautious.
In the desperate situation of trying to escape confinement, would she really have hunted down Vanessa in the most remote corner of the castle—the maids' quarters—just to kill her?
Would she have had the luxury of time for that? And for what purpose?
Besides, if you kill someone, you get a heavy sentence. Lamia knows that better than anyone.
More importantly, killing Vanessa alone wouldn't benefit Lamia in any meaningful way.
The guards had been present when Lamia and Vanessa fought. They'd seen the wanted poster with Lamia's face on it. They would have reported everything to Callius eventually.
Lamia would have known that everyone would find out her identity regardless of whether Vanessa lived or died.
It would have made far more sense for her to run away as quickly and as far as possible—not to waste precious time committing murder.
I made my decision.
I would trust my own judgment.
I looked around the banquet hall, meeting the eyes of each person gathered there, and spoke with all the authority I could muster.
"If Lamia is not the culprit, then there must be someone else who killed Vanessa."
People who made eye contact with me either looked down nervously, pretended to glance away, or blinked in surprise.
"The murderer must be in this room. Right now."
A ripple of unease spread through the crowd.
Then I noticed Granada looking intently at something—or rather, someone.
I followed her gaze.
There, standing among the other servants, were the remaining maids I had brought from the palace.
Lina—always busy looking around with her wide, curious eyes.
And Sernia—quiet, pale, almost invisible in her lack of presence.
The two of them had always been meek and unassertive. They were the kind of people who faded into the background, content to let louder personalities like Vanessa and Lamia dominate.
Like shrimp caught between whales...
I studied them carefully.
Lina, catching my gaze, flinched visibly and immediately looked away, her eyes darting nervously around the room.
Sernia, on the other hand, stared back at me with her mouth pressed into a tight line, her expression carefully blank—almost too carefully blank.
Her eyes held a strange kind of innocence that felt... rehearsed.
Oh. What if...
Suddenly, an idea struck me.
I smiled—a small, calculated smile—and turned my attention to the two remaining maids.
"I don't believe Lamia is the culprit, so I won't punish her."
A collective exhale seemed to ripple through the room. Some people looked relieved. Others looked confused.
I paused deliberately, letting the silence stretch.
Then I looked directly at Lina and Sernia, my smile widening just slightly.
To Be Continued...
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