# The Cane's Answer
Madame Cuisine stood speechless.
Of course she should answer the King. But she couldn't.
Because her true master wasn't the King—it was the Prince Regent.
Duke Claudio had ears everywhere, even here.
If I say my master is the King, the Duke will suspect me.
Regent Claudio was paranoid and ruthless. He still didn't trust her completely, always cross-checking her reports against information from his other plants in the palace.
If that suspicious bastard heard about today's exchange, it could raise dangerous questions.
"Of course it's His Majesty—"
"Madame, why do you hesitate over such an obvious question?"
The watching servants began murmuring as the silence stretched.
Bang!
Medea slammed her hand on the table beside her.
The head maid startled, then quickly composed her features. But everyone had already seen the flash of panic across her face.
"Was it such a difficult question?"
Medea smiled.
"Your Highness—"
"You must not be accustomed to your position yet. I see the answer doesn't come easily."
Madame Cuisine's jaw tightened.
"I'm simply baffled that you'd ask something so obvious! My master is His Majesty King Peleus."
"Oh? Is that truly so?"
"Of course! How can Your Highness embarrass me by pressing such a simple point?"
"Neril is a maid His Majesty the King personally assigned to me before he left for war. Before that, she served in my brother's personal guard. Are you trying to undermine the King's authority?"
Damn.
Madame Cuisine swallowed her dismay.
The little brat was backing her into a corner.
What the hell has gotten into her today?
She had to extract herself from this trap. The head maid's voice remained smooth.
"Regardless of her past service, Neril's current position is as a royal maid. Therefore, as head maid, I have every right to discipline those under my authority."
Counter "Is the retired guard captain still in the capital? I wonder if he'd agree that the knight he trained so carefully could be 'summarily disciplined' by a head maid."
"Your Highness!"
The head maid's teeth ground together.
The former captain of the Royal Guard—who'd served with distinction under the late King—was still deeply respected throughout the realm. Far too prominent for a mere maid to cross.
The more she spoke, the more enemies Medea conjured. She felt like a fish being reeled in by that guileless tongue.
I don't know what's possessed her, but I need to crush this rebellion before it spreads.
She took a steadying breath and shifted tactics.
The Prince Regent's orders had been clear: remove the leech maid attached to the Princess.
"I'm embarrassed to even continue this conversation."
The head maid's voice turned ice-cold.
"The Princess is merely a blood relative of His Majesty the King. You are not my master. You are not the master of any servant in this palace. Furthermore—"
Malice glittered in Madame Cuisine's eyes.
"If it weren't for Your Highness, I would still be serving His Majesty the late King. He was a saint who governed both the inner and outer kingdoms with wisdom. There would be no need for me to deliver such teachings today."
"But the late King died a cruel death. As you well know.
Because of you."
The air turned frigid.
Despite the blatant disrespect, Medea simply listened in silence.
"If not for the generous forgiveness of His Majesty the King and the other royal family members, the Princess wouldn't even be permitted to remain in this palace."
Madame Cuisine grew bolder, drunk on her own venom.
The Queen Mother despises this girl. The King is indifferent—why else would he take the throne and never return?
There was no Princess in this palace.
Everyone knew it.
"And now the person who exists here by His Majesty's mercy dares to play at being mistress."
Silence stretched like a held breath.
The head maid felt a surge of satisfaction seeing Medea's pale face. She turned to Jenna.
"What are you waiting for? Continue the punishment!"
Jenna's eyes darted between the head maid and Medea, uncertain.
"Play at being mistress."
Medea's voice came low and measured, carrying an edge that made several servants flinch.
The head maid hesitated—but what could Medea possibly do?
"Stop dawdling and move!"
"Very well, then."
Medea turned.
People assumed the Princess would throw herself in front of the whip like Neril had.
Instead, those small white hands picked up the long disciplinary cane lying nearby.
Command "Madame Cuisine."
"Yes?"
"Come here and lift your skirt."
No one could believe their ears.
"What did you just say?"
"You're not deaf, are you?"
The head maid stood there, the most incredulous of all.
Is she truly mad enough to challenge me directly?
"Surely you don't mean to—to use that cane on *me*—"
"I will respect your words."
Medea's tone remained measured.
"For me to interfere further with Neril's punishment would be, as you said, a clear overreach of authority."
Pale fingers traced slowly along the cane's polished surface. The gesture seemed strangely elegant, practiced.
For a moment, to those watching, the object in Medea's hand seemed less like a cane and more like a longsword. The Princess confronting the head maid radiated the sharp, solemn presence of a knight facing down a beast.
Impossible—for a Princess who'd never left the palace, who'd never held so much as a dagger.
"But in our Valdina royal family, there is a law. When a person performing palace duties is negligent in their responsibilities, the King may punish them."
"Yes. Then I shall request punishment when His Majesty returns."
The head maid's snort was derisive. Would the Princess even still be here when the King came back?
"And in the King's absence," Medea said, "that right passes to his appointed representative."
Medea drew a seal from her bodice and held it up.
"The seal my brother left me. I've stamped the appointment letter with it—you may examine it if you wish."
Before leaving for the battlefield, Peleus had left his sister a seal granting her authority to handle palace affairs in his absence.
As long as she held that seal as the King's representative, no one could erase Medea's existence, no matter how much they ignored her.
It was proof the King still recognized Medea as Princess—a weapon to protect herself.
Medea had been too foolish back then to understand what it meant.
"Which means I can administer punishment myself."
The head maid's face flushed crimson.
"I've never heard of such a precedent—"
"Will you refuse? Even though the Prince Regent himself severely punished members of the royal household under this very clause while the King was at war?"
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
"That's right. Most of the palace staff were replaced, including Sir Sachin, who was minister at the time."
The whispers reached the head maid's ears.
It had been a major purge—several noble families in the capital exterminated, dozens executed. How could a head maid not know this history?
Then people remembered—the head maid had laundered her past through remarriage.
She'd probably been too busy buying her title with her body to notice the blood flowing through the noble houses.
"My goodness, Madame Cuisine. There's so much you don't know."
Medea tilted her head as though genuinely puzzled how this woman had achieved her position.
"You said you couldn't serve my father as your master because of me. If you're so resentful and nostalgic, perhaps you should study His Majesty's reign more thoroughly. It might help ease your regrets."
What would my uncle think, knowing his maid pines so desperately for the brother he's trying to destroy?
That girl keeps backing me into corners!
The head maid bit her lip hard enough to taste copper.
"Your Highness is correct. So I will also perform my duty."
Her voice shook slightly.
"That seems only fair, doesn't it?"
At this point, it was about pride.
She couldn't kneel before a pale slip of a girl after a lifetime of clawing her way up.
"As you wish."
The Princess nodded, expression blank as porcelain.
"You heard Her Highness. Jenna, proceed."
"Madame, please—"
"Now!"
"Yes!"
At the head maid's sharp command, Jenna's hesitant hand finally moved.
Crack!
The whip struck Neril again. A good deflection, and a provocation from the head maid.
Watch carefully what your hasty decision costs that child.
She watched Medea from the corner of her eye. But the Princess's face remained unreadable.
"Madame Cuisine. Lift your skirt properly."
Even as the ash-wood cane in the Princess's hand bent with elastic tension, the head maid felt no real concern.
That timid half-blood would never actually follow through.
The Princess isn't that foolish. She couldn't possibly predict how she'll be treated if she makes an enemy of me—
CRACK!
Her thoughts shattered.
Her mind went utterly blank.
Or had the searing pain come first?
The cane struck with precision and terrible force across the back of her thighs.
Around them, even the watching maids gasped and drew back.
End Chapter 3 ## The Cane's Answer
"Actions speak louder than words—and strike harder."
[ Continue to Chapter 4 ]