— The Prime Minister's Office — An aide with an ashen expression approached and whispered urgently to Cissere.
Word had reached him: the Queen Mother, enraged by the head maid's accusations regarding the Princess's alleged secret affair, had summoned Medea to her palace for immediate judgment.
The Princess has a lover?
Moreover, his informant within the Queen Mother's palace reported that the head maid had secretly leaked to the assembled courtiers that the man in question was none other than Etienne—the Minister of Palace Affairs.
Etienne, playing his filthy games again. Is serving as the Prince Regent's right hand not sufficient for that parasite?
Cissere recognized the scheme instantly—a coordinated strike between the head maid and the minister. One nursing grudges against the Princess, the other hungry for greater power.
The worst possible combination.
Pain blossomed behind his temples as he pressed his throbbing forehead.
Please, Your Highness—if you cannot help matters, at least remain invisible.
Yet he could not abandon this situation. If intervention was required, this incident must be suppressed—by force if necessary.
The King's words echoed in his memory—spoken quietly before His Majesty marched to war.
"Cissere, please protect Medea."
"We shall continue this discussion another day."
Cissere announced the conversation's end without ceremony.
"As you wish."
"My apologies for the abrupt departure."
He departed without further explanation—minimal courtesies, impatient steps. Anyone watching could clearly discern that urgent matters demanded his attention at the palace.
"Boss, it appears the performance has commenced."
Gallo watched Cissere's retreating form, then clasped his hands behind his neck with a lazy grin.
"The head maid bribed the Princess's most trusted confidant. Can the Princess possibly evade such a trap?"
Gallo turned toward the window, eyes bright with curiosity.
"Well? What do you think? Are you not curious whether the Princess will survive?"
"Not particularly."
His voice carried profound indifference.
"If she fails, that merely marks the limit of her capabilities."
"Boss, do you not pity the delicate girl struggling against such odds?"
Pity?
She had apparently conducted herself with considerable cleverness thus far. But if she had exposed her back to lowly hyenas eager to tear out her throat—then this was where her journey ended.
"If she cannot bite, she deserves to be devoured."
"Who is asking for your opinion? I merely wonder whether you believe the Princess will survive this ordeal."
Gallo's eyebrows drooped with apparent regret.
"We shall see soon enough."
The answer would arrive shortly. If Valdina's Princess possessed the same character as her homeland, she stood no chance of victory.
— The Queen Mother's Palace — The crowd stirred with agitation.
The head maid and Marieu's joint testimony had sent ripples of scandal through the assembled court.
"You claim to possess proof?"
"There exists a token that Her Highness and this man exchanged! An item engraved with the name of the person Her Highness pledged to marry..."
Though Marieu's shoulders trembled visibly, she recited her prepared testimony with faithful precision.
"It resides within the Princess's palace. Her Highness gazed upon that token day and night, pining for him with endless longing."
In conservative Valdina, exchanging love tokens was permitted only between couples who had formally pledged marriage.
That seriously?
The assembled nobles gaped in disbelief. Every breath was held as the maid laid bare the Princess's alleged transgressions.
"Then we shall verify this matter directly."
The Queen Mother commanded in frigid tones.
"Pinatelli."
Baroness Pinatelli
A tall, slender woman standing beside the dais approached and bowed deeply. She had served as the Queen Mother's closest aide for nearly two decades—Her Majesty's most trusted confidant, renowned for her unshakeable integrity and immunity to any temptation.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"You will proceed immediately to the Princess's palace and conduct a thorough search. If you discover the proof they describe, report to me at once."
The Queen Mother turned her head and gazed down at Medea with cold eyes.
"Have you any objection?"
"None whatsoever."
Medea responded with perfect composure.
Time crawled forward in agonizing silence.
The Queen Mother fanned herself sharply, barely containing her mounting fury. Eventually, she cast aside the peacock feather fan with cold disdain.
Meanwhile, Catherine continued her desperate attempts to catch the head maid's eye—silently pleading: What are you thinking? Stop this madness!
But Madame Cuisine rejected her efforts entirely, turning away with deliberate coldness.
You should not have pursued me so desperately when your husband was attempting to dismiss me from service. If I succeed in elevating the Minister to State Secretary, you will understand your place then.
The head maid barely suppressed her laughter at such a thrilling prospect.
How utterly tedious, Birna thought, stifling yet another yawn. When will that ancient woman return? She moves like a slug through molasses.
Yet curiosity regarding the outcome kept her anchored in place.
Others maintained their silence, fearful of attracting stray sparks, exchanging only furtive glances.
Medea sat quietly as though entirely oblivious to the restless tension surrounding her. One might believe her carved from marble, given her undisturbed posture.
"The Prime Minister has arrived."
An attendant whispered discreetly to the Queen Mother. Soon, the man granted permission entered through the grand doors.
"I offer my respects to Your Majesty the Queen Mother."
"Ah, Sir Cissere. Please, approach."
The Queen Mother's expression softened noticeably. Cissere was this kingdom's financial cornerstone—someone even the late King had treasured. As a loyalist who actively supported her grandson Peleus, she naturally favored him.
"What brings you here at such an hour?"
"I came seeking the head maid on a minor administrative matter and learned she was attending Your Majesty."
Cissere answered smoothly, concealing his true purpose. However kindly the Queen Mother treated him, she would not appreciate discovering he had been receiving intelligence regarding inner palace affairs.
"If acceptable, might I requisition the head maid's presence for a brief consultation?"
"I regret that proves impossible. Unless the matter is pressing, it must wait."
"It is not urgent, so as Your Majesty wishes. However—why are Her Highness the Princess, Duchess Claudio, and her daughter assembled here?"
The Queen Mother hesitated, contemplating whether keeping the Prime Minister present was prudent.
This matter will become known regardless. Eventually, he shall need to manage the aftermath...
"Your timing proves fortuitous. You may judge the gravity of this situation for yourself. Medea, that insolent creature..."
After hearing the brief explanation, Cissere agreed to remain for the Queen Mother's judgment.
The head maid felt a twinge of unease at this unexpected variable. Why had the Prime Minister arrived? Surely he was not attempting to rescue the Princess?
The two were famously antagonistic.
The relationship between the Princess—who had disrupted administrative functions by overusing her seal—and the Prime Minister, who had repeatedly blocked her interference—had devolved into open hostility.
It matters not. Even if he attempts intervention, he cannot eliminate Minister Etienne's handkerchief that Marieu concealed among the Princess's possessions. Medea, you are finished.
The servant opened the doors.
"Your Majesty, Baroness Pinatelli has returned."
"Ah, finally."
"Your Majesty, I return having executed your commands."
Baroness Pinatelli entered and bowed deeply.
The head maid, Madame Cuisine, regarded her with a triumphant expression, chin lifted as though already vindicated.
"Well? Did you discover it?"
The Queen Mother demanded.
Profound stillness descended.
The only sound audible was someone swallowing nervously. Every eye fixed upon Baroness Pinatelli's lips.
Had the Princess truly conducted a secret affair?
No—something else sparked even greater curiosity.
Who was the Princess's secret lover?
If they had exchanged tokens bearing each other's names and Baroness Pinatelli had recovered the gift, the identity would be immediately revealed.
As collective anticipation reached its fever pitch—
Baroness Pinatelli spoke.
...
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