She could never forget that face—the one that had stared at her with such intensity on the day she was humiliated by Duke Baltezar. Moreover, that piece was the very one she had been instructed to acquire at any cost. Viscountess Clement gritted her teeth and raised her hand once more.
“100 Verang!”
The crowd stirred; a bid exceeding 100 Verang had yet to appear at this auction. Even the host, who had been watching the standoff between the two women with confusion, shouted in excitement.
“Yes! That’s the first 100 Verang bid of the day!”
Closette glared at Viscountess Clement with a furious expression. Roselia, reasoning that it would be profitable to secure the piece even if it meant overextending, whispered quietly to Closette. Hearing the advice, Closette confidently raised her hand high.
“200 Verang!”
Two hundred Verang was a sum that could sustain a commoner family for several years without them having to lift a finger. While it wasn’t a significant amount to the nobility, no one had spent such a vast sum at a charity event like this; the room buzzed with astonishment. Finally, unable to hold back, Viscountess Clement sprang to her feet, her face twisted in rage.
Even for her, there was no luxury in wasting such a fortune on a piece that would barely fetch 200 Verang on a good day. The Viscountess’s burning gaze was fixed squarely on Roselia.
“Yes, any further bids? None?! It seems there are none! The twelfth piece is awarded to the Lady of Baltezar!”
Beside Closette, who stood with her chin held high and a triumphant smirk, Roselia caught the gaze of Viscountess Clement, who seemed ready to tear her apart, and deliberately looked away.
Following the successful charity auction, a reception prepared by the Count’s estate began immediately. Perhaps due to the excitement of the bidding, Closette fanned her flushed face.
“I think I got too heated; I’m sweating. I’ll go to the powder room for a moment.”
“Yes, please go ahead.”
Just as Roselia was left standing alone, a pair of sharp-toed heels stopped in front of her, accompanied by the scent of heavy perfume.
“Do you even know what you’re looking at, interjecting like that?”
It was Viscountess Clement. Roselia, judging that it wouldn’t be prudent to clash with a noble, lowered her head and tried to pass by as if she hadn’t heard. But the venomous Viscountess blocked her path.
“You, you saw me, didn’t you?”
To think a noble would use such rude language. Despite it being their first meeting, the Viscountess’s blatant disregard made Roselia reply with indifference.
“Are you referring to the day I was humiliated by the Duke?”
“W-what? Humiliated? How dare you, you insolent thing!”
It happened in an instant. As if striking others were a daily habit, the Viscountess raised her hand without a moment’s hesitation and slapped Roselia across the cheek.
*Slap!*
Roselia stood frozen, her head turned to the side, stunned by the absurdity of the situation.
“Ha…”
Even if she were dressed as a servant, she was a servant of the Duchy. Setting aside her station, it was baffling that anyone could just strike a person like that. Roselia, who had intended to let it pass quietly, could not hold back any longer and slowly turned to look at the Viscountess.
Seeing Roselia meet her eyes with a fierce gaze without backing down, the Viscountess seemed even more incensed and raised her hand again.
“How dare you look at me like that, when you’re just a servant…!”
*Grab!*
At that moment, Klaus suddenly appeared out of nowhere and caught Viscountess Clement’s wrist.
“What is the meaning of this?”
The Duke, who hadn’t been visible during the auction, had appeared so suddenly that the Viscountess panicked, though she soon curled her face into a scowl and retorted.
“L-let go! That servant was rude to me first!”
Klaus furrowed his brows at her words and replied coldly.
“If you have a hobby of raising your hand so easily, do it to your own servants. Why touch the servants of the Duchy?”
The Viscountess’s expression twisted at Klaus’s act of protecting the servant. *Again.* He had humiliated her because of this servant last time, too… Could it be… that the woman Roselia was just a smokescreen, and the Duke’s true preference was…? A foul smile crept onto the Viscountess’s lips as her thoughts reached that conclusion.
“Ha… Duke, could it be that you have feelings for this servant?”
“What…?”
Like Closette, Klaus had received an invitation from Count Blimond, but he had intended to only show his face at the banquet, skipping the auction under the pretext of being busy. To be met with such an absurd situation—he was momentarily rendered speechless by the sheer ridiculousness of it. At that moment, the surrounding nobles began to murmur as they watched him.
As Klaus glared at the Viscountess with a displeased frown, she pressed on, undeterred.
“What do you think it means for you to defend this male servant, even at the cost of insulting me in front of so many nobles?”
“……”
“Order that servant to kneel before me this instant. Otherwise, who knows what kind of rumors I might spread. After all, a servant kneeling before a noble is a common enough occurrence, isn’t it?”
*If I remain silent, she grows bolder in her ignorance. Of course, if the wrong rumors spread here, the Duchy will suffer immense damage. But I cannot leave this insolent woman, who doesn’t know her place, to act as she pleases.*
Just as the Duke was about to endure the massive loss and say a word to the Viscountess, a deep voice echoed through the hall as two elderly men entered. One was clearly the host of the banquet, Count Blimond, and the other was…
“Grandfather?”
The moment Roselia muttered it to herself, the nobles began to bow their heads one by one. It was the heavyweight noble who had long disappeared from social circles, a man whose standing was said to be far superior to that of a Marquess. It was Count Bernas.
While Klaus stood frozen at the sudden development, the Count walked through the crowd as they parted like the Red Sea. He looked at the bewildered Viscountess and spoke.
“If rank is what you value so highly, then I shall become this child’s guardian.”
At the Count’s declaration, the nobles began to stir. Count Bernas, one of the great noble families, claiming to be the guardian of a servant from the Duchy? Just who was this servant? Gazes mixed with surprise and curiosity poured over Roselia.
On the other hand, Viscountess Clement’s face turned as red as her hair as she sputtered.
“Count, are you speaking in earnest?”
“Would I lie in front of all these people at my age?”
No matter how imperious Viscountess Clement was, it was difficult to act recklessly against the House of Bernas, a prestigious military family. Managing a twitching expression, she tried to reply with forced gentleness.
“Count, I heard you were in poor health lately, so perhaps you shouldn’t concern yourself with such trivial matters.”
Though veiled, the rudeness of treating him like an ailing old man made not Count Bernas, but the nearby Count Blimond, furrow his brow in anger. Count Bernas blocked Count Blimond with his hand and continued with feigned composure.
“Hmph… I don’t recall your husband, the late Viscount Clement, being this rude. It seems you inherited the title but not the manners of nobility.”
The woman, who had been the wife of the former Viscount Clement, was actually a former high-class courtesan. A woman who had been lucky enough to charm an old noble to secure the position of Viscountess, and after he died, managed to snatch the title for herself. Count Bernas was mocking her for exactly that.
While the Viscountess stood frozen with a crimson face, something sparkling caught Klaus’s eye as he watched the standoff. On the inside of the sleeve of the Viscountess’s jacket—which, as usual, exposed her chest—something was visible. At a glance, it looked like a sleeve button, but it was a small badge the size of a fingernail with a pattern engraved on it.
Fixing his gaze, Klaus approached the Viscountess and grabbed her arm roughly. Startled, she looked at him with an offended expression.
“W-why are you doing this…?”
“Were you the one called Rugvella who tried to kidnap Roselia?”
At Klaus’s sharp question, the Viscountess stiffened. But she soon shouted with a feigned, brazen confidence.
“What kind of nonsense is that?”
Klaus wore a cynical smile at the Viscountess’s performance of being wrongly accused, and he pulled her wrist, roughly tearing the badge from inside her sleeve.
“Ah!”
Helpless against his strength, the Viscountess turned pale as she saw him pluck the badge from her sleeve with a sharp *snap*.
“What is this?”
Terrified by Klaus’s blunt voice, the Viscountess tried to shout back.
“Can’t you see? It’s just a decorative badge!”
As if to mock her pretense, Klaus curled his lips and pulled an identical badge from his pocket.
“I took this from the group that tried to kidnap Roselia. Will you still deny it?”
“……”
Realizing she had no more excuses, she shrieked, her face deathly pale.
“I-I was just doing as I was told!”
She began to look around as if searching for someone to save her. Then, her gaze fixed on a certain spot, and her face drained of all color. Her expression was blank, like a person who had just been handed a death sentence. Standing there in a daze, her legs gave out and she collapsed to the floor.
Klaus immediately turned to look where she had been staring, but all he saw were the nobles gathered in large numbers.
At that moment, Count Blimond, the host of the banquet, stepped in front of the collapsed Viscountess and shouted.
“Call the guards! Rugvella, who wrote articles slandering the Imperial Family and the royalty, is here!”
The events that followed unfolded with lightning speed. The Imperial Guards, having been summoned, arrived immediately. Because she had been writing gossip about the Imperial Family and the nobility without fear, everything proceeded rapidly once her identity was exposed. Even as she was being dragged away by the Imperial Guards, the Viscountess did not soften her venomous gaze.
“You’ve all made a mistake. Throwing me in prison won’t change anything.”
The nobles whispered in unease, unsettled by her scoffing words. She muttered in a raspy, cracked voice, as if casting a curse against someone unseen or perhaps directed at the Duke.
“Duke Baltezar. You are the one who should be most careful.”
With that final word, she left a mocking laugh behind and was led out of the mansion by the soldiers.