Chapter 15
Feeling the slowing pace, Hermia abruptly flung open the carriage door.
“I’m going to the Duke’s residence!”
“What did you say?”
Ignoring the Countess’s bewildered expression, she pushed off the footboard.
“I have something to discuss with the Duke. You go ahead.”
“Without notice? What kind of impolite—”
“My father barged in at dawn, so what’s the big deal? It’s not as if this family hasn’t dealt with that kind of intrusion before.”
“What? What did you say?”
In her haste, Hermia blurted out words without thinking and jumped down before the carriage had completely stopped.
Leaving behind a flustered Sam as he scrambled from the driver’s seat, she dashed straight toward the city.
After limping for about thirty minutes, she arrived at the public post station where the stagecoaches were lined up.
Breathless, she climbed onto a faded carriage at the front of the line.
“R-Rockford… to the Duke’s residence, please.”
“Of course, Miss!”
The kindly-looking coachman glanced at Hermia with curiosity before moving to the driver’s seat.
Having run without catching her breath for fear that the stagecoach would finish its operating hours, she slumped inside, drenched in sweat and feeling heavy as lead, making it hard to even sit still.
‘Ugh. My stamina has really gone to waste.’
Staring at the round ceiling of the carriage covered in yellow waterproof fabric made her feel nauseous again. After entering a forest path, she eventually had to yell once more for them to stop.
“Stop the carriage! Please!”
She shouted, leaning out just in time to retch.
“Are you alright?”
The coachman, who had been patting her back, asked with concern.
With nothing in her stomach but rising bile, it was torture. Panting heavily, Hermia slowly raised herself.
“Sir.”
“Yes?”
“Have you ever seen someone throw up after running…?”
That would be me.
She lightly tapped the shoulder of the coachman, who looked utterly confused, and climbed back into the carriage.
How long had it been since she sat there feeling increasingly pale and weak? The carriage tilted backward as it climbed a hill before continuing on for quite some time. Then suddenly, it seemed to reach level ground as the vibrations inside lessened.
“Miss, we’ve arrived.”
Standing on solid cobblestones with both feet planted, it was already a clear evening. Before her stood a massive castle with a fresh coat of plaster. She tilted her head back to take it all in.
Having only heard about it before, she couldn’t have imagined that Rockford Castle was not just a grand mansion but a real castle… an actual fortress!
The pointed spires she saw for the first time rose high into the sky, and on the thick walls that had served as defenses for several hundred years were remnants of old scars and patches from repairs scattered throughout.
Surrounded by dense woods, Rockford Castle resembled a fortress. The overwhelming sight made her instinctively take a step back.
At that moment, Hermia truly realized how historically significant and honorable the Rockford family was—referred to as national heroes.
“Isn’t this where kings live…?”
“Due to night surcharges, it’ll be 8,000 Persos.”
More shocking than the grand castle was the sudden realization: she had no money.
She quickly began to think on her feet.
She had some earrings and bracelets but those were too extravagant to use for payment.
If she left them as collateral and came back later to retrieve them, they would likely refuse her outright.
Hermia hesitantly asked,
“Is there any chance you could allow credit…? I’m the only daughter of Count Vansen. I’m somewhat well-known…”
“What are you talking about, miss?”
The kind man who had been patting her back disappeared entirely; standing there now was a model citizen who looked like he would report her immediately.
As Hermia rolled her eyes in panic, she suddenly recalled someone and hastily lifted her skirt. The coachman gasped and turned his head away immediately.
“W-What are you doing! I live with a bear-like wife and tiger-like daughters!”
“Could I pay with this book instead?”
Hermia presented him with Volume 1 of “The Stolen Lady” Since it was originally meant to be returned to Irene anyway, she planned to use it as payment for the carriage fare instead.
“This book sells for 10,000 Persos at bookstores. It’s slightly bent but practically brand new since it hasn’t been opened.”
She forced the book into his hands while continuing,
“This is something everyone says you must know in order not to be labeled a spy from the Empire. If you take it home as a gift for your daughters, they’ll love it.”
“R-Really? But my kids are only three and five years old…”
“Well then tell them to read it when they’re older. It’s really fun—so much so that you might even cry from laughter…”
The coachman frowned at the “12 years old or older” label printed on the bottom of the book. However, by then, Duke Rockford’s guards had already approached Hermia’s side like shadows.
If they caught wind of this mistake, they would surely demand identification and purpose of visit; thus he quickly gave up and hopped back into his seat.
“How may I help you?”
Two guards in long-sleeved uniforms stood before Hermia even in early summer weather.
They carried long black rifles over their shoulders and swords hung from their waists. Their intimidating presence made Hermia instinctively shrink back.
“Good evening, gentlemen. Thank you for your hard work…”
“How may we assist you? Please state your purpose for visiting.”
If she didn’t speak up immediately, they looked ready to fire their weapons right then and there. Hermia hurriedly replied,
“I’m here to see Duke Walter. Please let him know it’s Hermia Vansen.”
“Do you have an appointment with His Grace? Or perhaps a visitor’s pass?”
“No. Not exactly…”
Why is their security so tight? It was miraculous that her father hadn’t died while drunkenly bringing eight companions here before!
The guards exchanged silent glances before one of them dashed toward the castle gate.
“Please wait here for a moment. You may enter once you receive permission.”
The remaining guard quietly informed her. Standing awkwardly on the street, Hermia scratched her chin and twisted her body.
“Um… can I sit and wait?”
“Please wait as you are.”
“Yes.”
This time, it felt like they would shoot if she moved around recklessly. Fearing the possibility of being shot, she stood in place, stretching her neck to keep an eye on the castle gate.
After about 20 minutes had passed, a heavy drawbridge that seemed to have been built hundreds of years ago slowly descended over the moat.
Out from within rode none other than her fiancé on a large, black horse.
Seeing him approach without saying a word while standing next to a fearsome guard was quite uncomfortable, so Hermia’s face lit up as if she had found a savior.
“Duke!”
“Hermia.”
Walter dismounted swiftly from the horse without taking a moment to calm it down, panting heavily. Despite his large frame, his movements were remarkably agile.
After hurriedly handing the reins to the guard, he approached her with a surprised expression.
“What brings you here at this hour…?”
As Walter spoke, he suddenly noticed her condition and became serious. He then asked in a noticeably lowered voice,
“Did you perhaps suffer an attack nearby?”
“An attack?”
Seeing him scan her from head to toe made Hermia tilt her head in confusion. She had indeed sat on the dirt floor and vomited, leaving her dress in disarray.
Ah. Was it because there was a bit of blood on the hem of her skirt?
“This is just from my foot being scraped…”
“Please forgive my rudeness.”
“Oh my!”
Walter finished speaking and lifted Hermia into his arms. With both legs suspended in the air, Hermia instinctively clung tightly to his neck out of anxiety.
Even though he was the one holding her, he flinched when his gaze fell upon her shoes and furrowed his perfectly straight brow without mercy.
“These are the shoes I bought for you. Why are you wearing them again when they don’t even fit?”
“Well… since they were a gift from you, Your Grace, I thought I should wear them diligently.”
It was the biggest size he had bought for her. If she wore them often enough, they would eventually break in and become softer.
Hermia concealed her true feelings as she had always done and offered sweet words.
Walter’s ears turned red, but Hermia thought it was just a natural physical reaction from holding someone close.
“Double… no, triple the guards! From now on, any guests who come must be turned away without exception.”
“Yes!”
The guard responded promptly to Walter’s command and quickly moved away.
As Hermia remained cradled like a princess in Walter’s arms, she realized that she had never experienced this level of physical closeness with a man before; soon enough, her face turned red as well.
“It’s still May, but it’s quite hot…”
“…I think so too.”
Walter emitted a wonderfully pleasant scent. It was mixed with the subtle fragrance of cologne he had worn during their engagement and faint traces of smoke.
As Hermia unconsciously sniffed the air, Walter apologized with an embarrassed expression.
“Apologies if I smell of gunpowder. I wanted to bathe before coming, but I thought that would make you wait too long.”
“Oh… so that’s gunpowder smell.”
Hermia turned away from him in awkwardness while Walter kept his gaze fixed straight ahead as they continued walking.
Passing through the arched castle gate, they found Duke Rockford’s four-wheeled carriage waiting for them with its dark blue body adorned with gold trim.
After confirming that the guard opened the carriage door and lowered the footboard, Walter carefully set Hermia down inside and cleared his throat loudly.
“Let’s go to the main building first and treat your foot.”
“Aren’t you getting in?”
He paused as he was about to close the door for her but then leaned down and climbed into the carriage himself.
“Victor will be taken care of in the stables.”
From Walter’s words, it was clear that Victor referred to the black horse from earlier. ‘Victory’—a truly military-sounding name.
Hermia then looked around inside the carriage.
The Duke’s carriage was much thicker-walled than an ordinary large carriage. Given how heavily its wheels rolled, it seemed very sturdy as well.
She recalled having read in newspapers about spies from enemy nations attempting assassinations; it seemed plausible that this carriage was also designed to withstand such threats.
As the carriage began to move slowly, Hermia remembered her original purpose for visiting and stopped looking around aimlessly.
“I’m sorry for coming unannounced.”
“Absolutely not; not at all; it’s fine.”
Walter replied with a stiff expression while sitting across from her.
Though he pretended not to care, having the daughter unexpectedly barge in after her father must have been quite shocking for him too.
I don’t know. I’m prepared for a breakup anyway; whatever happens will happen. I need to find my own way out. With that mindset, Hermia blurted out,
“Have you read Volume 2 of ‘The Stolen Lady?”
“Volume 2… you mean?”
At that moment, she began lifting her skirt again.
