Granada and Brentian stood together, watching Chloe's retreating figure as she climbed the stairs to her chambers after resolving the crisis.
"...There's something different about the Princess. Something more than meets the eye."
Brentian's voice carried a note of grudging admission—as close to praise as the suspicious man ever came.
Granada chuckled softly.
"She is like a butterfly."
"What do you mean?"
"A butterfly begins as an egg, does it not? From the egg emerges a caterpillar. From the caterpillar, a chrysalis. And from the chrysalis, finally—an adult butterfly spreads its beautiful wings."
"Are you saying what I saw before was merely... a chrysalis?"
"No. Back then, she was still just an egg. His Grace brought me a butterfly egg. It has only just hatched."
Brentian shook his head as if the notion were absurd.
"The Princess is twenty-two years old—a fully grown adult. Isn't she far too old to be compared to a newly hatched caterpillar?"
"The time spent merely existing inside the egg is irrelevant."
Granada's eyes remained fixed on the spot where Chloe had disappeared.
"Butterfly eggs hatch only when the environment is right. If the conditions are poor, they remain eggs forever—dormant, waiting. This one has only just awakened because she finally found an environment suitable for growth."
"Are you saying Ronheim is a good environment for her?"
"If you don't believe me, simply watch."
Confidence radiated from Granada's expression—the absolute certainty that one day, Chloe would emerge as a truly beautiful butterfly.
Brentian studied the older woman's face, unable to comprehend what it was about Chloe that so captivated her.
Is she really someone we can trust?
Callius felt genuinely pleased.
Immediately after the resolution of Vanessa's murder case, the way the castle servants looked at Chloe had changed dramatically. The wariness had softened. The doubt had begun to fade.
He hummed cheerfully as he entered his office, with Brentian following close behind.
Callius settled into his desk chair and regarded his most trusted advisor with amusement.
"Are you still suspicious of Chloe, Viscount Creep?"
"..."
"Even after she demonstrated her willingness to eliminate Kavala's planted spies?"
"...She merely locked one in the dungeon. She didn't eliminate her cleanly. It could have been theater—a smokescreen."
Callius noticed that whenever he spoke of Chloe, Brentian's voice—usually so tense and sharp—softened ever so slightly.
"A smokescreen."
Callius chuckled, remembering that he'd recently heard that very phrase from Chloe herself.
Chloe is creating smoke to obscure Kavala's vision. And here's Brentian, convinced that Chloe is creating smoke to help Kavala instead.
The irony was delicious.
"Stubborn fool."
"Are you addressing me, Your Grace?"
"You've been obstinate since childhood. Suspicious to a fault."
"It's disappointing to hear such criticism from someone who has benefited greatly from my suspicions."
It wasn't a false statement, so Callius didn't push the matter further.
At least he admits his own flaws.
Callius understood that it took Brentian an exceptionally long time to trust anyone.
There were people in this world who trusted others without hesitation—and then there were people like Brentian, who only opened up after prolonged observation and rigorous testing.
So Callius didn't force him to trust Chloe.
I trust Brentian. But I have no intention of revealing the details of my contract with Chloe to him.
Truthfully, Callius still didn't fully understand how Chloe had obtained so much sensitive information about Ronheim's internal affairs. Explaining that mystery to Brentian would only deepen his suspicions.
He's the type who needs to have all manner of doubts swirling in his head to feel comfortable. No need to give him more ammunition.
Besides, he's not the kind of person who would actively harm Chloe just because he's suspicious of her.
He might be a bit unpleasant to her, perhaps—but nothing more.
And if I allow Brentian—who is closest to me—to remain visibly suspicious of Chloe, it might distract the unknown traitor in Ronheim for a while longer.
Brentian's expression grew more troubled.
"By the way—if the Empress gave separate orders to her spy regarding the stolen jewels, it's highly likely that the wandering merchant's visit earlier today was also connected, correct?"
Both Callius and Brentian had received reports about a merchant who'd arrived at the castle without an appointment—and then died suddenly, his eyes burning, his entire body consumed by flames.
It was clearly a sorcerer's curse.
On the same day, the Empress's spy had committed murder under orders, and a wandering merchant had entered the castle carrying a curse that killed him.
Given the timing, it seemed highly probable that both incidents were Kavala's doing.
"Most likely."
Callius clicked his tongue, genuinely pitying the merchant who had died so meaninglessly.
It's always like this with Kavala. Plenty of circumstantial evidence—but never proof.
Brentian's voice sharpened.
"How did the Empress even know there was a thief here in Ronheim?"
Although Chloe had publicly punished the maids for being the Empress's spies, Brentian remained unconvinced.
When they'd tried to interrogate the wandering merchant, he was already dead.
Why would the Empress suspect Ronheim in the first place?
Brentian recalled the argument he'd had with Callius days earlier:
"If it's discovered that the Empress's jewels came from Ronheim, the Empress will believe we orchestrated the entire thing!"
"That would give Arrental the perfect pretext to completely destroy Ronheim!"
Brentian couldn't help but voice his lingering doubt.
"Are you absolutely certain the Empress and the Princess aren't colluding?"
"If that were the case, why would Chloe sacrifice her own maids?"
"I need to investigate the reason. If you leave this to me, I will—"
"No. Don't concern yourself with it."
Callius spoke calmly, almost casually.
"Because I already prepared for the situation where it would be discovered that the jewel came from Ronheim."
"...What?"
Kavala ground her teeth as she stared at the jewels covering not only her massive desk but every available surface in her office.
These were items that Dnieper's men had recovered by searching through every black market and auction house across the continent.
Items that had been nowhere to be found suddenly flooded the market in vast quantities.
This happened the very moment she'd placed a curse on that wandering merchant and sent him to Ronheim.
"My jewels..."
Kavala grasped a handful of precious gems.
Her hands trembled as she held them.
Some of the jewels had been returned intact, as if they'd been sleeping peacefully in a vault somewhere.
But most had not.
• A multi-layered diamond necklace—partially dismantled, its diamonds separated and scattered.
• A pearl necklace—completely destroyed, its shape lost forever, reduced to loose pearls in a basket.
• A sapphire bracelet renowned for its ornate silver filigree—returned with the sapphire missing, only the silver framework intact.
• Several rings so badly dented they could no longer fit on fingers.
• Gold bracelets discovered mid-melting—only half of their original mass remained.
"Who... who would dare do something so... so ridiculous...!"
Kavala had to literally grind out the words through clenched teeth.
"That gypsy bitch..."
The thief who stole her treasures clearly had no concept of their true value.
This must have happened because an ignorant thief handed my treasures to equally ignorant merchants who had no appreciation for their worth!
Kavala stared down at the broken diamond necklace in her hands, closing her eyes tightly against the rage.
That necklace was priceless. Worth enough to purchase two grand mansions in the capital if entrusted to someone who recognized its value.
To tear it apart like this...?
She felt like she was losing her mind.
Unable to contain her overflowing fury, Kavala lashed out violently, hurling the now-worthless pieces of the diamond necklace in every direction.
"AHHH! AAAAAAAH!"
What ignorant craftsman would melt down a bracelet without realizing its value?!
What ignorant merchant would dismantle a pearl necklace to use the individual pearls for inferior decorations?!
"How dare they! You worthless— You absolute—!"
Everything on the desk went flying.
"I'm going to kill them! Every single one! I'll kill them all! You worthless vermin!"
She would not spare a single blind, ignorant fool who had touched her treasures.
After raging for what felt like an eternity, Kavala finally shouted toward the door.
"You there!"
A terrified servant opened the door hastily and rushed inside.
"Yes, Your Majesty!"
"Bring me Dnieper. Now."
The moment Kavala finished speaking, Dnieper himself appeared at the threshold.
Even before the treasures had been found and laid out in Kavala's office, Dnieper had anticipated this exact situation—and had been waiting nervously in the hallway outside.
"Sister."
"Do you see what this is? Do you see?! Bring me everyone who touched these jewels!"
"Sister, I—"
Dnieper—who usually followed Kavala's orders immediately without hesitation—paused for a rare, uncertain moment.
"There are... more than one or two people involved. Are you certain this is wise?"
"Bring them all! Bring them here and behead them in front of me!"
Dnieper closed his eyes tightly and swallowed a weary sigh.
He decided that the first priority was to calm Kavala—who had been completely blinded by rage—and then signaled to his knight standing at the door.
"Is everything ready?"
"Yes, my lord."
Dnieper turned back to guide Kavala.
"Everyone is waiting outside. Let us go together."
Kavala viciously slapped away Dnieper's offered hand and strode out after the knight, her movements sharp and furious.
Her gaze was sinister—overflowing with murderous intent.
But when Kavala stepped out into the courtyard beyond her office, she stopped walking and stood frozen in place, utterly dumbfounded.
To Be Continued...
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