“Hillen?”
“Are you talking about the woman who came here supported by a child?”
"That's right! I think she was being supported. Her hair was braided on both sides and twisted intricately at the back... Is her name Hillen?"
“Yes. I think Hillen is right.”
It was strange.
The person's name I remember was Tirena.
'That peculiar hairstyle and profile look familiar.'
In my past life, Tirena was a close maid who had been with Kavala like a shadow for some time.
'Did I mistake Hillen for someone who looks like Tirena?'
I asked Alex several more questions about Hillen.
Alex explained in detail what he knew.
"She's the younger sister of a knight named Andrew. I heard she's been ill for a very long time and rarely leaves the house."
“Ah... Yes...”
Was I seeing things wrong?
I hoped so.
But the sense of vigilance did not completely disappear.
I thought carefully about the chronological order.
'The first time I encountered Tirena in the palace was after Callius died and Ronheim fell.'
It is possible that Hillen flowed into Arrental after changing his name to Tirena.
Alex said she was sick, but she might have recovered in the future.
There was still a possibility.
What made me so sure was her hair.
From the first time I saw her, I thought her hair was amazing.
That was never a popular style in Arrental.
The knot shape was unique and exotic, which caught my eye.
'Even if it's a popular hairstyle in Ronheim, I've never seen anyone here with that style.'
Looking at that hairstyle, I thought it was something I could never do myself, even if I spent my entire life learning how to do it. It just seemed so complicated.
'I was just blankly watching it without thinking much about it, but I can't believe I remember it so clearly.'
Besides, as I recall, Tirena was tall as a northerner.
The Hillen I saw yesterday seemed to be of average height among the people of Ronheim, so if she went south, she would definitely be tall.
Are similar faces, similar builds, and identical hairstyles just a coincidence?
'If Hillen was Tirena, how could she have gone to the capital of Arrental and become Kavala's close maid?'
I don't know the details because I haven't been interested in politics since I married Viscount Pelsus, but I vaguely remember hearing that after Ronheim completely collapsed, its people were scattered abroad.
After all, it would have been better to live in another country than to drift into Arrental, the enemy country.
'There's also a tendency in Arrental to look down on the Ronheim people.'
But why did Hillen, a Ronheimer, go to the capital of Arrental and become Kavala's close maid?
'Unless there was some kind of connection beforehand, it's hard to believe it happened by chance.'
I felt compelled to find out if there was any connection between her and Kavala.
'Even if it doesn't exist yet, it might come soon.'
I checked with Alex again.
“You said Hillen was Sir Andrew’s sister?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
I thought I knew who Andrew was.
He was the one who was particularly wary of me and gave me a sharp glare, so he stood out even among the other knights.
'I think we need to keep an eye on Sir Andrew.'
Callius was very proud of his men and cared for them, so I didn't think he would like me to say that Sir Andrew was suspicious without any solid evidence.
'Once you're sure, you should organize your thoughts and speak wisely to Callius.'
Even I'm still not sure if Hillen is Tirena, or if they just happen to have similar hair.
In that situation, it seemed premature to tell Callius such a story.
'Once I recover my energy a little, I'll go and find out more with Lamia.'
Until this point, I thought I was just suffering from a bad cold.
The doctor who examined me a while ago said I was in good health, and Callius said I would soon be able to adapt to the cold of Ronheim.
I believed that after a few days of rest, I would soon get up from my seat.
But the time spent in bed only increased day by day.
About a week after Chloe had been sick.
Lamia has been feeling threatened by the recent spate of minor accidents.
'Strangely, bad things keep happening one after another.'
Whether it was a coincidence or not, dangerous things happened around her several times a day.
For example, something like this now.
Lamia sensed an ominous aura above her head and quickly rolled onto the ground, leaving where she was standing.
Chloe's laundry flew out of the laundry basket she was holding and fell everywhere in thr violent movements.
Bang!
A flowerpot fell from the sky with a terrible noise and shattered where Lamia was standing.
'Ah.'
Lamia gaped at the shattered remains of the flowerpot, thinking that if she had moved just a little later, her head could have been shattered and she could have died.
Her heart was pounding.
"Who is this!"
She looked up and shouted, very angry.
But there was no one behind the only open window on the fourth floor.
It seemed like someone had dropped the flower pot and run away.
'This is clearly intentional.'
Lamia was sure.
Because as far as she knew, there were no flower pots inside Ronheim Castle.
In this cold winter country, there was no culture of growing plants in pots on the windowsill.
Because the wind was so strong, shr didn't want to put anything on the windowsill that might fall, and above all, there weren't any suitable plants to grow indoors.
Although Ronheim had several mysterious flowers that grew even in the dead of winter, most of them grew in clusters on the vast expanse of land.
This was something she learned while preparing a flower pot for Chloe, who was always in her room.
A few days ago, Chef Latina gave her a tip as she was about to transplant some pretty winter flowers she had found outside into a pot.
"Despite their tenacity, the flowers of Ronheim wither in less than a day once they leave the soil where they've taken root. It would be better to just pick them and put them in a vase for your viewing pleasure."
When Lamia told Chloe that, she was amazed and said.
"You can't live without leaving the land where you've taken root. Even the flowers of Ronheim are Ronheim's."
That's romantic or something.
Anyway, for that reason, Lamia was certain that if a flower pot had been dropped under the window in Ronheim, where no one even grew flowers in pots, it would have been intentional.
Besides, this isn't the first or second time this has happened in the past few days.
'I think someone is trying to assassinate me.'
Lamia grumbled and resolved to bring down whoever it was.
It was when she was holding out like that.
This time, someone pushed Lamia hard from behind as she was going down the stairs.
"Oh!"
Lamia, who had been sharpening her senses, had already anticipated that something like this might happen, so she quickly balanced herself in the air and landed.
It was a perfect landing.
She was no longer surprised and quickly glanced up at the area where she was standing.
"Who is this!"
This time, there was no one there.
Lamia grumbled and took off her apron, throwing it on the floor.
Then she quickly rolled up her sleeves and ran up the stairs.
“No, really, let’s see, let’s see!”
It was a movement so nimble and free of unnecessary frills that anyone who saw it would have thought it was the movement of a well-trained knight.
But Lamia wasn't trained; she was just angry.
As she moved with the instinct to survive somehow and the single-minded determination to catch the criminal, that kind of agility naturally emerged.
She shouted into the empty hallway.
“I just saw it all!”
At first glance, it seemed like an empty cry.
But Lamia was looking at exactly one place.
“Why are you trying to kill me, Granada?”
Then, Granada silently appeared from the shadows of the hallway where no one seemed to be present.
Lamia glared at her sharply and took an attacking stance.
“The accidents that almost took my life these past few days were all your fault?”
Granada lifted her chin slightly with a bland expression.
“You’re quick-witted, Lamia.”
She didn't seem to have any intention of denying it.
If that was the case in the first place, she wouldn't have revealed herself from her hiding place.
Lamia asked, deeply contemplating whether or not to take out the small knife she kept hidden inside her skirt without anyone knowing.
“Why on earth are you doing this?”
"Well."
Granada asked an odd question with a puzzled look on her face.
“You didn’t tell Madam that I was trying to kill you. Why?”
"I don't want to cause you unnecessary worry at a time like this. Besides, I don't understand the maid's intentions. You've probably got many better ways to harm me."
Lamia also knew that Granada was a former assassin, having heard it from her personally.
If Granada had wanted to, she could have killed Lamia long ago.
Because there was always an opportunity for that.
But Granada was doing something cumbersome that didn't have a high success rate, instead of using simple methods.
“Why are you acting like a teenager who is playing a naughty prank?”
“Are you talking about the woman who came here supported by a child?”
"That's right! I think she was being supported. Her hair was braided on both sides and twisted intricately at the back... Is her name Hillen?"
“Yes. I think Hillen is right.”
It was strange.
The person's name I remember was Tirena.
'That peculiar hairstyle and profile look familiar.'
In my past life, Tirena was a close maid who had been with Kavala like a shadow for some time.
'Did I mistake Hillen for someone who looks like Tirena?'
I asked Alex several more questions about Hillen.
Alex explained in detail what he knew.
"She's the younger sister of a knight named Andrew. I heard she's been ill for a very long time and rarely leaves the house."
“Ah... Yes...”
Was I seeing things wrong?
I hoped so.
But the sense of vigilance did not completely disappear.
I thought carefully about the chronological order.
'The first time I encountered Tirena in the palace was after Callius died and Ronheim fell.'
It is possible that Hillen flowed into Arrental after changing his name to Tirena.
Alex said she was sick, but she might have recovered in the future.
There was still a possibility.
What made me so sure was her hair.
From the first time I saw her, I thought her hair was amazing.
That was never a popular style in Arrental.
The knot shape was unique and exotic, which caught my eye.
'Even if it's a popular hairstyle in Ronheim, I've never seen anyone here with that style.'
Looking at that hairstyle, I thought it was something I could never do myself, even if I spent my entire life learning how to do it. It just seemed so complicated.
'I was just blankly watching it without thinking much about it, but I can't believe I remember it so clearly.'
Besides, as I recall, Tirena was tall as a northerner.
The Hillen I saw yesterday seemed to be of average height among the people of Ronheim, so if she went south, she would definitely be tall.
Are similar faces, similar builds, and identical hairstyles just a coincidence?
'If Hillen was Tirena, how could she have gone to the capital of Arrental and become Kavala's close maid?'
I don't know the details because I haven't been interested in politics since I married Viscount Pelsus, but I vaguely remember hearing that after Ronheim completely collapsed, its people were scattered abroad.
After all, it would have been better to live in another country than to drift into Arrental, the enemy country.
'There's also a tendency in Arrental to look down on the Ronheim people.'
But why did Hillen, a Ronheimer, go to the capital of Arrental and become Kavala's close maid?
'Unless there was some kind of connection beforehand, it's hard to believe it happened by chance.'
I felt compelled to find out if there was any connection between her and Kavala.
'Even if it doesn't exist yet, it might come soon.'
I checked with Alex again.
“You said Hillen was Sir Andrew’s sister?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
I thought I knew who Andrew was.
He was the one who was particularly wary of me and gave me a sharp glare, so he stood out even among the other knights.
'I think we need to keep an eye on Sir Andrew.'
Callius was very proud of his men and cared for them, so I didn't think he would like me to say that Sir Andrew was suspicious without any solid evidence.
'Once you're sure, you should organize your thoughts and speak wisely to Callius.'
Even I'm still not sure if Hillen is Tirena, or if they just happen to have similar hair.
In that situation, it seemed premature to tell Callius such a story.
'Once I recover my energy a little, I'll go and find out more with Lamia.'
Until this point, I thought I was just suffering from a bad cold.
The doctor who examined me a while ago said I was in good health, and Callius said I would soon be able to adapt to the cold of Ronheim.
I believed that after a few days of rest, I would soon get up from my seat.
But the time spent in bed only increased day by day.
***
About a week after Chloe had been sick.
Lamia has been feeling threatened by the recent spate of minor accidents.
'Strangely, bad things keep happening one after another.'
Whether it was a coincidence or not, dangerous things happened around her several times a day.
For example, something like this now.
Lamia sensed an ominous aura above her head and quickly rolled onto the ground, leaving where she was standing.
Chloe's laundry flew out of the laundry basket she was holding and fell everywhere in thr violent movements.
Bang!
A flowerpot fell from the sky with a terrible noise and shattered where Lamia was standing.
'Ah.'
Lamia gaped at the shattered remains of the flowerpot, thinking that if she had moved just a little later, her head could have been shattered and she could have died.
Her heart was pounding.
"Who is this!"
She looked up and shouted, very angry.
But there was no one behind the only open window on the fourth floor.
It seemed like someone had dropped the flower pot and run away.
'This is clearly intentional.'
Lamia was sure.
Because as far as she knew, there were no flower pots inside Ronheim Castle.
In this cold winter country, there was no culture of growing plants in pots on the windowsill.
Because the wind was so strong, shr didn't want to put anything on the windowsill that might fall, and above all, there weren't any suitable plants to grow indoors.
Although Ronheim had several mysterious flowers that grew even in the dead of winter, most of them grew in clusters on the vast expanse of land.
This was something she learned while preparing a flower pot for Chloe, who was always in her room.
A few days ago, Chef Latina gave her a tip as she was about to transplant some pretty winter flowers she had found outside into a pot.
"Despite their tenacity, the flowers of Ronheim wither in less than a day once they leave the soil where they've taken root. It would be better to just pick them and put them in a vase for your viewing pleasure."
When Lamia told Chloe that, she was amazed and said.
"You can't live without leaving the land where you've taken root. Even the flowers of Ronheim are Ronheim's."
That's romantic or something.
Anyway, for that reason, Lamia was certain that if a flower pot had been dropped under the window in Ronheim, where no one even grew flowers in pots, it would have been intentional.
Besides, this isn't the first or second time this has happened in the past few days.
'I think someone is trying to assassinate me.'
Lamia grumbled and resolved to bring down whoever it was.
It was when she was holding out like that.
This time, someone pushed Lamia hard from behind as she was going down the stairs.
"Oh!"
Lamia, who had been sharpening her senses, had already anticipated that something like this might happen, so she quickly balanced herself in the air and landed.
It was a perfect landing.
She was no longer surprised and quickly glanced up at the area where she was standing.
"Who is this!"
This time, there was no one there.
Lamia grumbled and took off her apron, throwing it on the floor.
Then she quickly rolled up her sleeves and ran up the stairs.
“No, really, let’s see, let’s see!”
It was a movement so nimble and free of unnecessary frills that anyone who saw it would have thought it was the movement of a well-trained knight.
But Lamia wasn't trained; she was just angry.
As she moved with the instinct to survive somehow and the single-minded determination to catch the criminal, that kind of agility naturally emerged.
She shouted into the empty hallway.
“I just saw it all!”
At first glance, it seemed like an empty cry.
But Lamia was looking at exactly one place.
“Why are you trying to kill me, Granada?”
Then, Granada silently appeared from the shadows of the hallway where no one seemed to be present.
Lamia glared at her sharply and took an attacking stance.
“The accidents that almost took my life these past few days were all your fault?”
Granada lifted her chin slightly with a bland expression.
“You’re quick-witted, Lamia.”
She didn't seem to have any intention of denying it.
If that was the case in the first place, she wouldn't have revealed herself from her hiding place.
Lamia asked, deeply contemplating whether or not to take out the small knife she kept hidden inside her skirt without anyone knowing.
“Why on earth are you doing this?”
"Well."
Granada asked an odd question with a puzzled look on her face.
“You didn’t tell Madam that I was trying to kill you. Why?”
"I don't want to cause you unnecessary worry at a time like this. Besides, I don't understand the maid's intentions. You've probably got many better ways to harm me."
Lamia also knew that Granada was a former assassin, having heard it from her personally.
If Granada had wanted to, she could have killed Lamia long ago.
Because there was always an opportunity for that.
But Granada was doing something cumbersome that didn't have a high success rate, instead of using simple methods.
“Why are you acting like a teenager who is playing a naughty prank?”
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