Chapter 53
“A party?”
The maid blurted out unconsciously, then quickly covered her mouth.
The second rule of Saint Palace: Always say “Yes” to the Princess.
Any absurd instructions or orders would be handled by the head maid or the Princess’s governess, so lower-ranking staff just needed to say, “Yes, understood.”
The maid was taken aback by the command that made her forget this simple rule, but she quickly recovered.
“Yes, understood.”
She hurriedly left and walked down the corridor, thinking to herself:
The social season has already ended with the start of the rainy season, and everyone is busy preparing for vacations. Is the Princess sane, suddenly suggesting a party?
The maid’s unspoken thoughts were that someone else would handle any issues, so she should just follow orders quickly.
* * *
As the maid had expected, Elisabeth was summoned to the kingdom’s most noble woman the next morning.
Nina Müller sat her two unmarried children, or rather, her two headaches, at the tea table and sighed heavily.
The head maid of Saint Palace quickly presented a stack of cards at the queen’s feather-light gesture.
“Do you know what these are, Gerald?”
The queen gestured at the neatly arranged invitations on the table. Although Elisabeth had written them, the suspicion was naturally directed at her unpredictable youngest son.
“I sincerely hope you weren’t behind these invitations that Elisabeth spent all of yesterday afternoon writing.”
Gerald, who would normally still be in bed at this hour, picked up the top card with a slightly tired face.
Elisabeth simultaneously nudged Gerald’s leg under the table, a subtle signal he had learned from Hermia.
“Why are you doing that, Liz?”
“Oh, nothing!”
However, the misplaced kick landed on the queen instead. Gerald pulled out the stiff card from the envelope and read it casually.
[Dear Austin Tally,
I’d like to invite you to Saint Palace on a summer evening. We’re hosting an event for young nobles who will shape the kingdom’s future. Please attend and brighten up the gathering.
—Elisabeth Müller.]
“Hmm?”
The end of the message was suspicious, with a postscript that made Gerald read it aloud.
“No need to bring a partner. Who knows? A chance meeting might lead to a romantic connection?”
The question mark at the end was directed at Elisabeth, who was shooting him pleading glances, but Gerald just let out a bewildered laugh.
“When did our lovely daughter become a matchmaker in the social scene? Gerald, I really hope this wasn’t your idea.”
The queen looked at him incredulously, urging him to respond. Gerald paused and checked the recipients on the other envelopes. Most were unmarried noble men, and some were noble ladies.
His hand stopped when he saw a particularly noticeable name.
Hermia Vansen.
The content inside was also distinctly different from the others.
[Hermia, don’t feel pressured about our last conversation. I believe we can become closer friends. Come to my palace for tea. You’ve never been to the palace, have you? I’ll give you a personal tour. Something sweeter than macarons awaits you.]
What kind of fun plan is this lovely, cunning, sweet, and immature sister of mine cooking up?
A mischievous curiosity rose on Gerald’s face. The queen touched her forehead with the back of her gloved hand and dismissed the attendants with her other hand.
Once the greenhouse surrounded by lily and rose gardens became quiet, she spoke.
“Timing aside, I wouldn’t have said anything if this involved only young women. But inviting men as well? What am I supposed to make of this?”
“Mother”
Gerald said, placing his hand over hers.
“Are you planning to find a match for yourselves among these young men and women who receive these suspicious invitations?”
Gerald smiled softly, a gesture he had mastered from past experiences.
“Mother, I understand Liz’s feelings. She’s been watching over one person for so long, and now that Walter is engaged to someone else, she must be heartbroken.”
This explanation worked as well as it had before.
“Ah, yes. I know that. Our poor little daughter cried so much on the night of the engagement, it felt like my heart was tearing apart.”
The queen looked at Elisabeth with a sympathetic face, then closed her eyes and shook her head.
“Still, this is a different matter. An unmarried princess hosting a party for other unmarried nobles? No matter her intentions, people will misinterpret it.”
“You’re saying it’s reckless, right?”
“Oh, you! Always saying the harshest things to your sister. Let’s call it… undignified behavior.”
The queen slapped Gerald’s hand, a habitual gesture, and brought her tea to her lips. Gerald chuckled and leaned back against the cushion with his arms crossed.
“How about this? Mother hosts a ball instead. You can give some advice to the next generation, who will be responsible for the kingdom’s future.”
“You mean you still intend to pick your future partners from among them?”
“Not necessarily to marry right away, but it wouldn’t hurt to take a look. You could see if there are any talented individuals who could join the royal family.”
The queen rolled her eyes at her son’s audacity.
He was the most unpredictable of her children, but also the most skilled with words. With affection added to that, the queen once again found herself defeated.
“…If your father doesn’t give his permission, then you’ll give up quietly. Got it?”
“Yes, of course.”
Gerald replied brightly, and Elisabeth found herself nodding along with him.
The queen rang a small golden bell on the table, slowly stood up from her chair, and adjusted her attire while receiving the meticulous service of the two attendants. Suddenly, she said:
“I don’t see the name of Rockford Duke. It’s very impolite to invite his fiancée alone. I need to rewrite the invitations.”
‘But I was only going to invite Hermia.’
When the queen mentioned inviting Walter as well, Gerald and Elisabeth exchanged awkward smiles, just curling up the corners of their mouths.
“If we can’t change the Duke’s mind this time, then we’ll really have to give up. Understand, Liz?”
As the queen left, Elisabeth’s face stiffened.
* * *
“It looks like we don’t need to go to the Princess.”
Hermia muttered seriously.
“I think so too.”
Mel agreed solemnly.
The two women stood side by side, arms crossed, looking at the remains of what was once a safe. In front of them were the contents they had pulled out.
The Count’s marriage vows, estate documents, various land contracts, and other papers that they couldn’t dispose of on their own were left aside. What was important was separate.
The treasure chest the Countess had brought at her wedding, a few jewelry boxes, and stacks of cash.
Yes, what they were looking at was a bundle of money.
Hermia fixed her gaze on the thick pile of paper that filled more than half of the safe and exclaimed in exhilaration:
“3 hundred million! It’s 3 hundred million persos in cash! This is crazy!”
“It really is crazy!”
Their minds were racing faster than ever.
With 3 hundred million, they could buy a small brick house in a less central area of the capital. Not a dilapidated hut!
No, they should just get a hut for a house and use the rest to open a shop. A clean and sturdy one would be fine.
They didn’t know much about foreign or other regions, but they knew prices were generally lower than in the kingdom, so it should be enough.
Living in a peaceful rural village, baking bread, and enjoying a leisurely life—what a beautiful future!
Her heart swelled with anticipation. Thinking that the freedom she had vaguely dreamed of was finally within reach made her feel overwhelmed.
Hermia clenched her fists to hold back tears, her eyes reddening.
“I might have endured six years here for this…”
“Where should we go now?”
Oh, right. Mel was there. Seeing Mel get excited made her eyes well up with tears.
“Hmm.”
Whatever. She decided to think positively.
Having Mel around would make carrying money less worrisome. Let’s take her along. If she finds a good person, we can even arrange a marriage.
“Now that we have money, let’s make a plan. We have three months until the couple returns, so we have plenty of time.”
“But, miss…”
Mel said, glancing at another spot.
The floor where they had broken through the stone was roughly covered.
“Are we really not taking the gold? There’s so much of it…”
Mel’s tone was filled with regret. Hermia also felt a pang of regret but spoke firmly.
“Do you know how to circulate it? I don’t.”
“Neither do I…”
Even if they were lucky enough to sell it somewhere, the moment they pulled out one piece, rumors would spread instantly. Two young women carrying gold bars wasn’t a common sight.
The fact that they had gold would make them targets for crime in an instant.
Moreover, dealing with an item of unknown origin felt uneasy.
The gold bars in boxes that matched the wine boxes outside in every detail—wood, seal, and color—were certainly hidden by Jack Vansen, but Hermia couldn’t shake off a nagging feeling.
“If we take it for no good reason, we might just end up putting our lives in danger. The gold doesn’t even have an issuing mark, and it feels a bit suspicious, doesn’t it?”
