Chapter 27
“They say it can’t grow in cold climates. So once winter hits, the plant completely dies off. Who would go out of their way to find a worthless herb that only grows in one season?”
“No wonder I’ve never heard of it. So, what was the name of this herb again?”
Jack shrugged as he recalled what Deyloren had told him.
“It’s called Weedy.”
Once she was dressed, Calliope went to Carolie’s room—knowing she’d still be sleeping—and gently woke her up herself. Later, during the carriage ride to their destination, Calliope ended up holding Carolie on her lap, softly rocking her half-asleep little sister to keep her from dozing off again. It was their little secret—something the Marchioness didn’t need to know.
As always, Circe had already finished her own errands and arrived at the horse market ahead of them.
“Those two… and that one as well. Yes, I’ll take all three.”
Luckily, Carolie was wide awake by the time they got out of the carriage and eagerly wandered around to look at the horses. Since she already had her own colt, they were only there to pick out a horse for Calliope.
It didn’t take long to choose. Calliope insisted more than once that one horse was enough, but Circe didn’t even entertain the idea. Without so much as a smirk, she selected three horses—each well-bred and still growing.
“You’re not going to ride all three at once,” Calliope said, raising an eyebrow.
“No, but you’ll need different horses for different occasions. At least three.”
After the horses were sent back to the estate, they moved on to select riding gear. Naturally, that meant buying at least three saddles—one for each horse. While Calliope agreed that each horse needed a properly fitted saddle, her expression soured a bit when Circe started picking out riding crops of every kind.
“Do we really need so many?”
“They’re more useful than you’d think. They’re good for disciplining uncooperative horses… or humans.”
“Excuse me?”
Calliope blinked, not sure if she’d heard correctly. Circe simply turned her head away, pretending she hadn’t said anything at all.
Once the riding equipment was sorted, they stopped by a jewelry shop. The goal was to pick out “light” accessories, but the items Circe selected were only light in design—definitely not in cost. Maybe a royal could wear them without issue, but most young noblewomen wore modest accessories: small gemstones, high-quality silk ribbons, subtle designs.
“That one. And that one over there too.”
“Mother, how about this one?” Carolie added excitedly.
Even the hairpiece Circe chose—though undeniably cute—was decorated with five actual gemstones. Who in the world thought it was a good idea to glue jewels onto a ribbon? Still, Carolie seemed completely delighted, even though none of it was for her.
“That’ll be eight custom ribbons, five sets of bracelets, and six sets of necklaces. Shall I package them together for you?”
From the way the staff spoke, it became clear to Calliope that these extravagant designs were all Circe’s idea.
She sighed, staring down at a soft red ribbon sparkling with delicate stones. At fourteen, wearing something like this wouldn’t be strange. But mentally, she was far older—and it was starting to feel just a little ridiculous.
Circe and Carolie continued dragging Calliope along with contagious enthusiasm. After finishing lunch at a nearby restaurant, they were on the move again. Calliope gave a tired smile and asked,
“Where to now?”
“We’re going to get your sword training outfits tailored.”
At that, Calliope’s eyes lit up. That was a different story entirely.
She had never taken sword lessons before, so she hadn’t known where to even buy or tailor training clothes. Instead of asking Circe directly, she glanced out the carriage window. The shops outside had changed—armorers, smiths, saddlers, and military tailors lined the street. It was the kind of place knights frequented, and she found it fascinating.
The carriage came to a stop in front of a modest tailor shop known among knights. Since most knights were lower nobility, it wasn’t fancy—but it had a strong reputation for quality uniforms and practical wear. Circe had personally chosen the shop for those very reasons.
But Calliope found herself disappointed.
“I thought, with all the fuss, their designs would be nearly transparent. But no, not even that.”
“The Duke of Dylas outfits her knights with this tailor’s uniforms. That’s why I came here—but honestly, it’s not living up to expectations.”
The shopkeeper seemed completely unprepared to deal with noblewomen. Despite being told multiple times that they were there for sword training clothes, he kept presenting glossy, luxurious fabrics and rambling on about how fine they were.
Only after Circe gave a sharp warning did he finally return with the materials actually used for knights and their squires. Even then, he continued murmuring about how the fabric was “a bit too sheer for a young lady,” which wore down Calliope’s patience quickly.
“Well, sometimes people’s words and skills don’t line up. We’ll see what the final product looks like. But—wait—didn’t you say the Duke of Dylas is your sister?”
“She is,” Circe replied calmly.
The current Duke of Dylas was the daughter of the previous duke—Circe’s older sister. In a society still hesitant about female heads of noble families, she was one of the few women who had broken tradition and taken leadership of her house.
“She loved swordsmanship as a child. That’s why she focused on practicality when she chose uniforms for her knights. Everyone says the quality is excellent, so I gave this place a try. But now… tsk.”
“So that’s why you came here,” Calliope said, casting a sideways glance at the shop’s sign.
Berlten Tailors.
“If the quality’s that good, why is this place still so small?”
“Look at the owner. It’s obvious. Men like him have no sense for reading the room or pleasing noble clients.”
As they wrapped up their conversation, the carriage stopped once more—this time in front of a boutique for custom dresses. Calliope tilted her head and looked up at Circe.
“I was thinking of having a new dress made for Carolie.”
“Oh.”
At the mention of a new dress for her, Carolie’s eyes sparkled. The moment the carriage arrived, she jumped out and ran straight into the boutique. Coincidentally, one of her friends was already there—Lady Armant, daughter of the Count of Carbulet.
Carolie greeted her friend with excitement, and the two of them immediately huddled together, carefully choosing which dresses would suit each other best. Thanks to their distraction, Circe was able to relax for once, settling on the sofa next to Calliope.
“I’d like to ask for that favor we talked about,” Calliope said softly.
“You really don’t give me a moment’s peace, do you?” Circe replied.
“Well, you can listen while you’re resting.”
Calliope didn’t look at her. She kept her eyes fixed on Carolie, who was now engrossed in picking lace.
“I need you to find a plant called Tulan.”
It was the final ingredient Calliope needed to send Ditron to ruin.
“Tulan?” Circe repeated.
“Yes. It’s a blue plant that grows in damp places—usually near valleys or caves. It’s not common, so it’s been difficult for me to track down on my own.”
“Is it poisonous?”
“No, of course not,” Calliope said, finally turning to look at Circe.
“It’s closer to a regenerative herb.”
But there was something cold and sharp behind her calm expression—an unmistakable trace of malice.
“Give it to Deyloren, Ditron’s maid. She’ll know what to do from there.”
Circe, fully aware of where that malice was aimed, simply nodded without a word.
After that conversation, the peaceful outing turned chaotic when Carolie suddenly got into a fight with her friend. It took all of Circe and Calliope’s energy to calm the children down and return to the estate.
The Countess of Carbulet, unwilling to stir trouble with the Marquis’s household, apologized through her daughter. The issue was resolved on the surface, but no one could get either child to say what the fight was about. Only the adults were left to quietly suffer the aftermath.
Summer arrived.
The trees were lush and green, and the sunlight was strong enough to heat the sand. But inside the Marquis’s estate, where the temperature was carefully regulated, everything remained pleasantly cool.
Calliope now had fencing lessons and was also receiving tutoring from eight different instructors. However, a few of them had been planted by Ditron—clearly instructed to sneak in snide remarks about Circe and exaggerate Ditron’s brilliance in business during their lessons.
She responded with polite, empty smiles, but it was becoming harder to tolerate. The only relief was that Ditron’s health had been steadily declining, so she didn’t have to see him much.
“Seems like what I’ve been feeding him is finally starting to work.”
Deyloren, the servant she had slipped into Ditron’s household, was doing her job well—slowly, methodically, wearing the man down from the inside.
“What are you thinking about?”
Snapped out of her thoughts by a child’s voice, Calliope looked down with a gentle smile.
She was with Carolie and Kapir, working on homework assigned by their tutors. Every now and then, when Carolie lost focus and tried to get up, Calliope would gently sit her back down. When Kapir asked questions, she answered patiently—fulfilling her role as the eldest sibling.
“Father’s been saying it’s time I started socializing with girls my age. He wants me to host a tea party. Would you two like to join?”
Carolie, who had been hunched over her book, shot her head up immediately.
“I want to go!”
“What about you, Kapir?”
“Mm… If I’m free that day, sure. But if I have other plans, it might be hard.”
“That’s fair. I’ll let you know once the date’s decided.”
Carolie and Kapir weren’t exactly her peers in age, but it wasn’t unusual for siblings to attend social gatherings together. It would be fine.
Calliope pushed her completed homework aside and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment. Illan had asked her to make a list of guests she wanted to invite—he wanted to see the outcome of her etiquette lessons in action.
Thanks to her memories from the past, she already knew which noble families were friendly toward the Marquess’s house, which were powerful, and which were rising fast. Creating a guest list was no difficult task for her.
As she continued writing, she paused for a moment and thought of the Carbulet family—Carolie and Lady Armant had gotten along well even in the future. So, she added their name to the list.
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