It didn’t matter if they suspected me. After all, the relationship between Asil and me was as thoroughly concealed as theirs was.
Asil wasn’t a man so unprepared as to openly flaunt his handiwork. He was, after all, a leader of the revolutionary army who had managed to deceive the very eyes of the Emperor and secure a noble title.
As Erle Tristan left, silence descended upon the office. Both men’s gazes were fixed on Freya, as if waiting to see what she would say next.
“Which one was passed?”
Freya asked Auguste again.
“The 1.5 Sekt bill was passed, and the 50 Sekt bill was rejected.”
Auguste answered clearly, watching her expression. Max, too, had not taken his eyes off Freya since she entered the room.
“By the way, was the passenger bill your doing?”
“You know how it is. It isn’t easy for me to step forward.”
“That is true. In that case, if no one in this room had a hand in the passenger bill, it must have been rejected on its own, or…”
The thought Erle Tristan was about to add was, naturally, *‘someone other than them had rejected the bill.’*
Unless one was a fool, it was clear who the Marquis was pointing toward.
“It would have been better if the 1.5 Sekt bill had been rejected…. Wouldn’t it?”
“That, of course, goes without saying…”
“Freya, did you persuade the President of Luthes Bank?”
Freya, who had been conversing while pretending not to notice Auguste’s suspicious gaze, stopped and turned her head at the sudden question.
Eyes as cold as an ice-covered lake were staring at her.
The man who once stood in front of her to protect her, the man who once told her she was more beautiful than anyone else, was gone.
*‘You expected this. Everything has simply returned to how it was.’*
Freya forced her tightening chest to expand and smiled at her husband.
“W-wait. Who? Father? Are you suggesting my father rejected the bill?”
Auguste reacted before Freya could. Max ignored him, his eyes still locked on Freya.
“Freya, tell me. The only person you told me you met was Asil Delaporte. Did you persuade him?”
Freya stood up as if taking the stand. She held her back straight and looked Max directly in the eye.
“That’s right.”
“……What did you just say?”
Auguste looked at Freya with an expression of disbelief, his mouth agape. Max continued his questioning as if he had already anticipated it.
“How did you persuade the President of Luthes Bank?”
“We made a deal.”
“On what terms?”
Freya, who had answered without hesitation, paused briefly before replying.
“That was a condition of the deal between Asil Delaporte and myself, so I cannot tell you, even if you ask.”
*Hah!* Auguste, listening from the side, let out a scoff of disbelief.
“Why wasn’t it the 1.5 Sekt bill?”
“That was bound to pass anyway, no matter what we did. I judged it better to target the side that had at least a glimmer of possibility.”
Even after Freya finished speaking, Max looked at her silently before speaking in a flat tone.
“Alone. My company’s problem. You judged it unilaterally and proceeded with your own whims.”
Yes, there was no escaping Max’s reproach, no matter what excuse she gave. Unless she could admit she knew the future, there was only one thing she could say.
“…I’m sorry. My thinking was short-sighted.”
“Short-sighted, or were you following someone else’s thoughts?”
Freya answered the sarcastic Auguste with a serious voice.
“Auguste, this was a matter I decided on my own. No one told me to do this.”
She then turned her head back to Max.
“Max, I thought about what the best decision would be for you, and I crossed a line. It is my fault.”
“If such words were enough to make things disappear, why would we have laws or the police?”
“I know this is a situation where you can’t help but be suspicious. …So, I am thinking of leaving Luthes for a while.”
“Where are you going?”
Max asked with a frown.
“My father invited us to spend this summer at Blanc Castle.”
“Do you take us for such fools? You want to go to Blanc Castle and meet the Duke in this situation?”
“If I stay in Luthes, will you be able to trust me?”
“That is…!”
“Alright. Do it.”
Once Max gave his permission, Freya nodded.
“Then, I shall take my leave.”
As soon as Freya left the office, Auguste shouted at Max.
“Max, are you just going to let the Lady go like this?”
Max looked toward the door, lost in thought. A visibly agitated Auguste slammed his hand onto Max’s desk with a loud thud.
“This is why you were talking about divorce contracts and such! It’s become certain that she’s in league with them!”
“That’s why I told her to go to Blanc Castle.”
“How do you know what kind of scheme she’ll cook up there!”
“Auguste, calm down.”
“This isn’t the time to talk about calming down! Your father ended up in this state because of Duke Blanc, and now you’re being framed as a swindler…”
Auguste, who had been rambling in his excitement, shut his mouth with an ‘oh’ expression. Ignoring Auguste, who was glancing at him, Max said calmly.
“I know. That’s why I told her to go to Blanc Castle.”
“‘That’s why’… you don’t mean.”
“I need to see for myself if she really is in league with them, as you said.”
Auguste wiped his face with one hand, his expression complex. Max asked as if something had just occurred to him.
“What about the status between Tristan and Blanc?”
Auguste sighed and shook his head.
“So far, there has been nothing.”
“…I see.”
“I know the Marquis of Tristan gets on your nerves, but don’t forget who the real enemy is, sir.”
“I know.”
He knew. Who had framed his father for every crime. Who had eventually stolen the company he had built. He knew it all too well.
Max raised his hand to cover his face and closed his eyes.
*“Trust me, still.”*
The woman’s voice rang in his ears like a hallucination.
✦ ✦ ✦
Upon returning to the mansion, a messenger from the Imperial Palace was waiting.
“Her Majesty the Empress has invited you to a tea party.”
“I am grateful for Her Majesty’s grace. I will attend with a joyful heart.”
“Her Majesty conveyed that she was deeply impressed by Freya Russell’s dress.”
“That is a dressmaker I have contracted privately. With your permission, I would like to bring her to the palace.”
The messenger, reciting the dialogue as if it were a well-rehearsed play, handed Freya an invitation adorned with gold leaf.
“As an agent conveying the will of Her Majesty, I inform you that Her Majesty personally permits the entry of Freya Russell and the dressmaker into the palace.”
At the top of the invitation, *Freya Russell* was written, and the three lines below it were left blank.
Freya saw the messenger off and immediately called for the coachman.
“To Madam Pernel Boutique.”
There was something she had to do before the tea party scheduled for three days later.
When she arrived at the boutique, Inès and Paul cheered at her.
“Freya!”
“Madam Russell! This is incredible! We’re in big trouble!”
Paul ran toward her with his arms wide open, nearly hugging her, before coming to his senses just in front of her. He awkwardly rubbed his nose and lowered his arms.
“Ah, I… I was just so happy. I’m sorry.”
“You shouldn’t be that happy just yet.”
At Freya’s words, Paul’s eyes widened as if they might pop out.
“Don’t tell me… d-don’t tell me…?”
Freya finally couldn’t hold back her laughter and held up the invitation in front of Paul. At that moment, Paul threw his arms toward the sky and began to cheer.
Covering her ears because of the noise, Freya found herself laughing too. It was the first time in days she had laughed from the heart. Seeing this, Milla, who was standing nearby, laughed along and tried to stop him.
“Charlo, my ears!”
Paul, having finally calmed down with a flushed face, held out his hand to Freya.
“M-may I take a look at the invitation?”
“Of course. But don’t tear it because you’re excited.”
Paul’s posture became instantly polite. He accepted the invitation with trembling hands and unfolded it.
“Inès, I, I’ve been invited to the Imperial Palace. Someone like me, who was always scolded for having nothing but sewing skills… I… I…. O-oh, wait. I think I’m going to cry. Dammit. Take this invitation, quick!”
Inès took the invitation from Paul, whose eyes were reddened with tears. Paul rushed off somewhere.
Unlike Paul, who was a commoner, Inès checked the invitation calmly. Then, she asked, a shadow crossing her face.
“Freya, that offer you made before… is it still valid?”
Freya smiled warmly at Inès, as if to reassure her.
“Of course it is.”