"There was nothing."
The words dropped into the hall like stones into still water.
"What?"
The chamber erupted into chaos.
Baroness Pinatelli bowed deeply and elaborated with measured precision.
"I must report that we conducted a thorough search of all Her Highness's spaces—the bedchamber, the sitting room, every corner and crevice—yet discovered nothing that could conceivably be construed as a love token."
"That is impossible!"
The head maid's voice rang out before she could restrain herself.
Realizing she had dared to shout in the presence of the Queen Mother's most trusted associate, she scrambled to recover.
"That—that cannot be correct. Baroness Pinatelli, you must have overlooked something. Did you examine the Princess's wardrobe and bedchamber with sufficient thoroughness?"
Shock had stripped away her careful speech, words tumbling forth in graceless disarray.
"Are you suggesting I would fail at a task Her Majesty the Queen Mother personally entrusted to me?"
Baroness Pinatelli's response carried the precision of a surgeon's blade.
"N-no, that is not what I meant—"
"Given the limited time and the gravity of this matter concerning Her Highness's honor, we conducted simultaneous searches with one hundred maids. We examined everything. I swear before God—we did not overlook a single rat hole."
Baroness Pinatelli stood her ground with unwavering authority.
"There was no proof."
"And Madame Cuisine—a Princess's *wardrobe*?"
She let the word hang in the air like an accusation.
"Do you not find that remarkably presumptuous phrasing for someone of our station? Please address Her Highness with the respect her rank demands."
"Exercise caution, Madame. The dignity befitting a royal servant is conspicuously absent from both your words and your conduct."
Mortification washed over Madame Cuisine's features.
Why is she attacking me?
Her pale face revealed mounting panic. She could not comprehend why Baroness Pinatelli had turned so aggressively against her.
The Baroness serves the Queen Mother faithfully. She has no reason to harbor grudges against the Prince Regent or his associates...
— The Hidden Alliance — Medea permitted herself an inward smile.
Why indeed, Cuisine? Because Baroness Pinatelli intends to claim your position for herself.
She observed Pinatelli quietly. Light grass stains marked the hem of the Baroness's dress—just as they had that morning.
Early dawn, the day after Medea had returned from rescuing Neril, she had ventured to the palace's northern garden.
"What brings you here at such an hour, Your Highness?"
A secluded place with few visitors—not even mountain birds frequented its quiet paths.
But Medea had known about the solitary visitor who came here with faithful regularity.
"It has been some time, Baroness Pinatelli."
Medea had chosen her executioner with deliberate care.
"What if I could fulfill your deepest wish?"
Baroness Pinatelli's surname before her adoption had been Sachin.
After the Queen Mother's death in Medea's previous life, the woman's true identity had been revealed in breathless news reports.
[Queen Mother's Closest Associate's True Identity Revealed After Her Death!]
Baroness Pinatelli had survived alone after her father's execution and her family's catastrophic fall. She had laundered her identity, adopted a new surname, and entered palace service. Through years of devoted loyalty, she had risen to become the Queen Mother's most trusted confidant.
Yet what she truly desired was not remaining at the Queen Mother's side.
Becoming head maid—and clearing her disgraced father's name.
Moreover, the architect of those false accusations was the Prince Regent himself.
No matter how the Regent maneuvered, he could never appease Baroness Pinatelli—she was his ancient, implacable enemy.
The head maid, Madame Cuisine—who had entered palace service late as a common-born woman—could never have known this history.
She had never anticipated Medea and Baroness Pinatelli joining forces.
The relationship between the Queen Mother's stern aide and the supposedly foolish Princess would never have appeared in Madame Cuisine's carefully written script.
— The Evidence — "That—that is impossible..."
"How curious. Head Maid, why do you sound so utterly certain? Almost as though you knew precisely where proof ought to be discovered?"
The head maid's expression hardened under Baroness Pinatelli's penetrating observation.
Pinatelli turned and bowed deeply to the Queen Mother.
"Upon the honor of Her Majesty the Queen Mother, I declare this truth: there was no proof whatsoever in Her Highness's possession."
A measured pause.
"However—"
The single word tightened every throat in the chamber.
Baroness Pinatelli drew a measured breath. Her voice rang with the solemn authority of an actress who had awaited her audience's perfect attention.
"You are Marieu, correct?"
She turned toward the maid—not because she had forgotten, but to emphasize Marieu's presence before the entire assembly once more.
"The token was discovered in this maid's chamber."
"That is impossible!"
Marieu's protest cut through the air, sharp with mounting panic.
Why is it there?! Why had the handkerchief meant to be discovered in the Princess's bedchamber emerged from her own room instead!
Baroness Pinatelli ignored the outburst entirely, displaying the azure object to the Queen Mother.
A light blue handkerchief, visibly bulging with something wrapped within its folds.
Finally, the embroidery in golden thread was revealed.
L. Larque Etienne
"Minister Etienne..."
The Queen Mother slowly read the letters aloud. For a moment, the very air seemed to tremble.
The Minister of Palace Affairs, Etienne?
The person the Princess—or rather, the Princess's maid—had supposedly fallen in love with was that elderly, grotesque man?
The assembled nobles stood aghast. The minister's gleaming, predatory eyes came unbidden to mind, sending shivers cascading down spines.
"Absurd! That handkerchief is not mine! Someone has planted it!"
"Indeed? Then this is not yours either?"
Baroness Pinatelli revealed the object the handkerchief had concealed.
A bracelet adorned with dangling trumpet-vine decorations sparkled brilliantly in the light.
Samon's bracelet.
Seeing the lost treasure appear from nowhere, Marieu looked ready to faint.
Not one token, but two.
The assembled nobles exchanged meaningful glances laden with judgment.
"Several maids testified they witnessed you wearing this bracelet repeatedly."
"No, no, this—"
"The bracelet is yours, yet the handkerchief bundled with it is not—is that your claim?"
Baroness Pinatelli pressed her advantage without mercy.
"The minister did not give me that bracelet!"
"Then who did? And do not fabricate obvious falsehoods claiming you purchased it yourself. We all know that royal maids' official salaries are insufficient for such extravagance."
"I received it as a gift from someone else!"
"Who? Did you not tell the other maids repeatedly that it was your mother's keepsake?"
"This trumpet-vine pattern is strictly regulated by Imperial law."
Baroness Pinatelli, exposed to countless jewels in her service to the Queen Mother, could properly identify the bracelet's significance.
"Anyone possessing both the authority to obtain this emblem and the wealth to gift something so precious ranks among Valdina's most elite families. If not the minister, then whom precisely do you mean?"
Marieu's eyes trembled as each escape route was systematically sealed.
Her heart pounded so violently it threatened to burst through her ribs. Her lips quivered beyond her control.
She could not reveal that she had received the bracelet from Young Duke Claudio.
Because right there, across the chamber, stood Samon's mother—Duchess Claudio.
Impossible.
The Duchess's fierce protectiveness toward her son was legendary. Marieu had witnessed with her own eyes how the Duchess disposed of maids who had dared approach her precious boy—always wearing an angelic smile that masked ruthless, decisive action.
If I expose my relationship with Samon here and now... she will destroy me utterly. Would the Duchess, who dismisses daughters from prominent families without hesitation, tolerate a common maid? She would eliminate me quietly to preserve his spotless reputation.
So Marieu could not speak further. She should not speak.
She bit her lip until she tasted copper, fighting desperately to maintain consciousness.
Then—
"I suspect Marieu was not the one conducting secret affairs with the minister."
Medea's voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"Is that not correct, Marieu?"
An unwavering voice. The calm expression upon her face suggested no surprise at this chaos whatsoever. It remained as quiet as still water without a single ripple.
As though she had known the minister's handkerchief would be found with Marieu all along.
As though she had predicted this entire scenario from its very inception.
Marieu's face drained of all remaining color.
Then... she knew everything...
Only then did the terrible comprehension finally dawn.
This was not chaos.
This was choreography.
This was an execution.
---