Chapter 5
The news spread quickly through the palace. It was not enough that the Empress had taken a striking man as her consort, she had even informed the Emperor of it to his face.
Among the servants of the imperial court, the Empress’s new consort was the chief topic of gossip.
“He was incredibly tall. And his hair, so beautiful. From a distance I thought it was black, but up close you can see streaks of deep blue in it.”
“That’s right, I saw him too. Lizzie was shouting for me to come quickly, so I thought it was the start of another fuss. But heavens, he’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. I wonder how Her Majesty happened to meet such a person. I’m envious…”
The mysterious stranger, whose origins were unknown, naturally drew all eyes. The maids forgot their work for a moment, chattering about the Empress’s consort.
Their talk was abruptly cut short by a sharp, irritated voice that sliced through the air.
“How noisy and vulgar you are. Have you finished every task assigned to you before you sit about gossiping?”
“Forgive us, Miss Natalie.”
The maids scattered at once, snatching up their buckets and fleeing.
The woman called Natalie clicked her tongue in annoyance, glaring after them with open disdain. Their behavior clearly offended her.
The palace employed many ladies-in-waiting, but Natalie Sherman, who served Marchioness Augustine, was among the most disliked.
In Clara’s absence, she acted as if she herself had taken the Empress’s place, snapping at the maids and treating them with contempt.
Fed up with her temperament, the others avoided her whenever possible.
“Loose tongues everywhere. No matter where I go, that is all anyone talks about. Why waste so much interest on the consort of a woman soon to be sent to the back rooms? Stupid creatures. They will waste their days polishing windows.”
“And who exactly is this person you say will be sent to the back rooms, Miss Sherman?”
It seemed someone had overheard her muttered complaint.
Across the arched corridor stood Charlotte, accompanied by several of the Empress’s maids.
Natalie paled, having clearly failed to notice her. But instead of retreating, she drew herself up and strode toward Charlotte with her shoulders stiff.
“Well, if it isn’t Miss Goldbloom. You have been so absent these days, I hardly knew you were still here. Do you have some business with me?”
“First, answer my question. To speak so disrespectfully in the imperial palace, I did not think you capable of such words.”
“Have I spoken falsely, Miss Goldbloom? The fact that Marchioness Augustine will soon become the next Empress is something even the beggars in Botein Square know.”
“Mind your tongue, Miss Sherman. Her Majesty the Empress is not someone to be spoken of in that way.”
Charlotte’s cheeks flushed red, but Natalie only gave a derisive snort.
Seeing her agitation, Natalie pressed her advantage.
“How quick to anger. Whatever happened to the amiable, cheerful Miss Goldbloom I used to know? You must be under strain these days. Since you seem unaware, allow me to enlighten you. The Marchioness Augustine is destined to become the next Empress. Spreading rumors in the palace is indeed a serious offense, but this is not a rumor. It is fact. If you doubt me, why not ask His Imperial Majesty yourself? You might say, ‘Your Majesty, whom do you love more, the Empress or the Marchioness?’”
There was no need to guess what gave Natalie the confidence to be so brazen.
As she said, the Emperor’s affections had long since cooled toward Henriette. Should Clara take the Empress’s place by any means, Natalie herself would rise as the Empress’s attendant, wielding considerable influence.
Natalie’s biting words drew uneasy murmurs from the other maids.
Shaking with anger, Charlotte finally raised her hand, ready to strike her.
At that moment, someone caught Charlotte’s wrist and stopped her.
“Miss Goldbloom, here you are. I have been looking for you.”
“Eh…?”
It was Bertrand.
While both women stared in surprise, he drew a ring from his breast pocket and placed it in Charlotte’s hand.
“You dropped this.”
Smiling as though he had heard nothing, Bertrand glanced between them.
Charlotte could only stare blankly at his smile, while Natalie seized the chance to retreat.
“Well then, I shall excuse myself.”
She vanished in haste, but Charlotte had no attention to spare for her.
“Were you returning from an errand for Her Majesty?”
“Ah… yes. That is right. And you, Duke Godrick?”
“I was summoned by His Majesty to the main palace.”
“Then you must hurry.”
“Indeed. I shall take my leave. Until next time, Miss Goldbloom.”
“Yes… next time, Duke Bertrand…”
He bowed politely and departed the way he had come.
Charlotte’s heart beat wildly as she watched him go, her fingers unconsciously tightening around the platinum ring that was far too loose for her.
✮⋆˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
Though she had suffered a few more bouts of illness after her resurrection, Henriette was now seated once more in her office, working as if nothing had happened.
This time, however, Charlotte was not the only one at her side. Her newly acknowledged consort, Zakhar Heil, stood near her in an awkward pose that made him look faintly ridiculous. Yet his beauty was enough to overshadow any such oddity.
Unlike Zakhar, who seemed distinctly unenthusiastic, Henriette and Charlotte were busy exchanging documents and signing them. Henriette’s white, elegant hand moved the quill swiftly and without rest.
So this was how humans governed their people. They were, indeed, a race fond of recording everything in minute detail.
“How long must I wait for you to find my child?” Zakhar muttered.
Henriette looked up to meet his bored gaze.
“My affairs come first, Sir Zakhar Heil.”
She smiled at him with infuriating sweetness.
“I do not recall making such an agreement with you.”
Charlotte, oblivious to their exchange, froze when she came upon a certain document.
“Oh, that reminds me…”
“What is it, Charlotte?”
“This may be strange to bring up, but… on the day Her Majesty passed away…”
Henriette tilted her head slightly as Charlotte handed her a payroll sheet for the palace maids.
“I do not know every face among the maids, but that afternoon I recall seeing one I had never met before. She had such striking golden hair that I remember it clearly. Surely I know all who serve in Your Majesty’s palace, so I assumed she had been brought in on short notice. But I have not seen her since.”
Henriette frowned faintly.
“That is strange indeed. If her hair was so distinctive that you recall it, I should remember her as well, yet nothing comes to mind.”
“I worry it may be too much of a leap, but… could it have been Marchioness Clara Augustine?”
Henriette studied her carefully, and Charlotte twisted her hair in nervousness.
“Well, after Your Majesty passed away, there was much talk that the Marchioness would be the next Empress. I thought perhaps it was related.”
“Do you remember the maid’s face clearly?”
“I wish I did, but no matter how I try, I cannot bring it to mind.”
Zakhar, watching her clutch her head in thought, rose from his seat.
“Why trouble yourself over such a trivial thing? Simply compare her with the Marchioness directly. Give me your hand.”
“Yes…?”
Though she found his manner strange, Charlotte obeyed. Zakhar pressed her hand lightly to his brow, as if searching her memories.
After a moment, he let go and glanced at her.
“I caught a glimpse of the golden-haired maid in your memory… though more than that, your head is full of,
”
“Yes, yes, I am glad you remember her,” Charlotte interrupted hastily, her voice overly bright.
Henriette hid her amusement, knowing full well who occupied Charlotte’s thoughts.
“Tch. In any case, I do not think they are the same person. The features differ slightly, and above all the height. The Marchioness is taller.”
“So they are not the same?”
“A memory may be forgotten for a time, but it does not vanish. So yes.”
Charlotte pouted at the answer.
Just then, the sound of familiar footsteps approached, followed by a light knock.
“Your Majesty, Duke Godrick requests an audience.”
“Show him in.”
Bertrand entered in his knight commander’s uniform and bowed. Charlotte’s face lit up instantly.
“Bertrand Godrick, Knight Commander of the Elhyde Empire, greets Her Majesty the Empress.”
“What is it, Sir Godrick?”
“His Majesty commanded me to deliver a message. According to this document, His Majesty plans to hold a festival in the near future to celebrate and commemorate Your Majesty’s resurrection.”
As he spoke, Bertrand’s face seemed unusually pale.
