Chapter 55
55. Rembrandt’s Proposal2022.03.10.
“But even so, we can’t just tell the Marchioness that we want to bring in our own maids separately. She’d take offense to that too.”
“That’s true.”
Kay leaned his head back against the sofa and crossed his arms. How could they bring maids into the mansion without them falling under the Marchioness’s influence, and without any friction? Francis gave him a meaningful glance.
“Really stuck?”
“……Well, yeah…….”
Kay answered without much enthusiasm, letting his words trail off. The visit had other purposes too, of course, but at least half of it was his genuine desire to get his brother’s advice. His brother had a reputation for being skilled in these sorts of things, after all. But it seemed Francis didn’t have anything substantially different from what Kay had anticipated. Francis stared at him steadily before breaking into a smile.
“Want some help?”
The offer came out of nowhere. Kay shot his brother a glance with little expectation in his eyes.
“You?”
How exactly did he plan to help?
“With ‘Lord Rembrandt’ right here, it feels like we’ve got some leverage we could use.”
Francis tossed out the comment casually as he lifted his teacup.
“The imperial favor.”
“……?”
A flicker of expectation stirred in him. Nothing major—just a “let’s hear it out” kind of curiosity.
“What do you mean?”
Francis laid it out simply.
“‘Lord Rembrandt’ gifts some servants and maids for Sir Arthur. End of story.”
……Huh? Kay’s expression shifted. Francis sipped his tea with perfect composure, as if he hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary. Kay turned the words over in his mind, eyeing his brother curiously.
‘Lord Rembrandt sending over maids and manservants?’
“We can wrap it up nicely as a gift for the Julius Mansion, short-staffed now that they’ve got new family members with Sir Arthur’s return. It’ll look good—honorable, even.”
“…….”
“And truthfully, they’re so swamped from the lack of hands that the maids are practically dropping dead from exhaustion.”
It was a surprisingly solid proposal. It hid their own agenda while giving the Marchioness no easy excuse to turn it down. Exactly what they needed right now. Francis went on.
“The Marquis’s household seems wary of hiring new maids at a time like this. Plenty of people are itching to find fault with Julius now that he’s an Elector, so the odds of spies sneaking in are higher than ever. They’re doing their best to scrape by with the familiar, trustworthy maids they already have.”
Kay could easily guess the real reason they were cautious about new hires—the sham marriage affair and the need to keep “Reina” hidden—but Francis’s explanation made for a perfectly reasonable cover story on the surface. Francis shrugged lightly.
“So if we frame it as the imperial family looking after Sir Arthur and extending consideration to busy Julius with their new additions, they’ve got no reason to refuse. Besides, the Marquis rather likes Lord Rembrandt.”
A note of caution began to creep into Kay’s eyes amid his lingering suspicion. The Marquis and his wife would want to keep Reina under wraps, so they might chafe at the idea of Rembrandt’s maids, but it still sounded workable. The key point was that they had no outward justification to reject it. Francis lifted his teacup again.
“Hand over a list of the maids you want, and we can slip them in without anyone noticing. Think it over if it appeals.”
Kay rested his chin on his hand, gazing at his brother thoughtfully. It sounded far better than he’d dared hope. The only sticking point was that it came from the “Rembrandt” camp. Arthur had warned him that the man was with Empress Maria’s faction—told him to steer clear and stay on guard. …So he hadn’t even considered accepting help from that quarter. Francis shot him a petulant sideways glance and chuckled.
“‘Lord Rembrandt’ may be Empress Maria’s nephew, but that look on your face says you’re wondering if he’d benefit Julius more than Sir Arthur.”
“…….”
Nailed it. Francis set his teacup down and spoke plainly.
“Lord Rembrandt is neutral. If you had to pin it down, he’s closer to His Highness the Crown Prince than Empress Maria. You all know the Crown Prince’s position better than I do.”
Francis gestured dismissively, as if it were no big deal.
“What can I say—even if I proved it to you, I doubt you’d buy it, so figure out for yourself if I’m telling the truth or spinning tales. Not that I need to tell you that.”
If he truly shared the Crown Prince’s stance, it meant Lord Rembrandt bore Sir Arthur no ill will—in fact, he might even be shielding him from the Empress. Tempting, if it checked out. Kay stared at his brother without moving, legs crossed.
Of course, he had no intention of going along until he’d vetted Lord Rembrandt’s real motives. For now, he tested the waters one more time.
“……You can just decide that on your own without running it by your superior? How do you know Lord Rembrandt would even go for it?”
Francis waved a hand lazily, looking bored.
“You think I’d suggest it if he wouldn’t?”
Then he shooed his brother off like an unwelcome guest.
“Go on. It’s not like you need it right this second anyway.”
“…….”
“Time to do some digging. Verify if I’m on the level. And you’ll need to pick and choose which servants and maids to plant, right?”
Francis smirked.
“Come back when it’s all set.”
His tone carried utter certainty that his brother would return. Kay had a gut feeling the odds were high that Francis was telling the truth. His gaze toward his brother subtly shifted as he rose from his seat.
“…….”
His brother could actually be useful. Pausing to look down at Francis for a moment, he asked,
“……Why are you looking into ‘Reina’?”
“……?”
Francis’s eyes widened in mild surprise as he stared at his brother.
“How do you……know about that woman…….”
Francis trailed off, then broke into a wide grin.
“You interested in her too? That’s a first for you.”
“…….”
Kay’s eyebrow twitched as he recalled the humiliation of having to defend his brother’s womanizing ways in front of their lord not long ago. Blissfully ignorant, Francis pressed on cheerfully.
“You’ve got good taste, kid. But you’re stepping on my turf? Well…… She’s a rare beauty, that girl.”
The spark of surprise and gratitude he’d felt toward his brother evaporated in an instant. Kay fixed Francis with a look of pity, his eyes narrowed to slits.
“Beauty means anything goes?”
Francis, who had stood up in the meantime, slipped his hands into his pockets and smiled with unruffled calm.
“Hmm. Still wet behind the ears, huh? How do you expect to romance a woman if you hold back in front of a beauty? Beauties always have a swarm of suitors. It’s the bold ones who snag the chance.”
“…….”
Kay snorted despite himself. Francis scowled, one eyebrow twitching in annoyance as he eyed his brother.
“What’s with that look?”
Kay flicked a sidelong glance at Francis.
“You’d do well not to mess with that woman.”
Patting his brother’s shoulder as he brushed past, he left one final warning.
“I’m only saying this so you don’t end up dead. Take it to heart.”
* * *
“Hmm…….”
After Kay had gone. Francis, still propping his chin, shifted position and leaned his head back against the sofa. He crossed his arms and tapped his fingers rhythmically.
“…….”
No one had laid eyes on “Reina” since “Sir Arthur” returned…… So how did Kay—who’d come back with Arthur—know about “Reina”? Francis uncrossed his arms and rested a hand on his thigh. He glanced toward the door Kay had exited through. He’d reacted to “She’s a beauty, that woman.” That meant he’d seen her?
* * * Knock knock.
“Lord Rembrandt. Are you there?”
“Yes, Francis. Come in.”
Rembrandt greeted his attendant Francis with his usual smile as the man arrived. Francis approached, smiling, binder in hand.
“Kay stopped by today. He came to pass along word from Sir Arthur’s side.”
“Oh, did he?”
Rembrandt showed warm interest.
“Your younger brother, right? How’d the talk go?”
Ever since sending off the Crown Prince and returning, Rembrandt had been hoping for a chance to speak with “Arthur”—once, at least. Privately, without going through the Marquis. But Arthur’s official stance as Triumphal General was to decline all private meetings outside his duties, so Rembrandt had been biding his time for a way to approach without giving offense. Their last encounter hadn’t left the best impression on Arthur, which called for extra caution. He could have forced a meeting, of course, but Rembrandt wanted to keep things on good terms long-term and was determined to avoid ruffling feathers. Upon learning that Kay—Francis’s younger brother—was Arthur’s closest aide, he’d considered using that channel to indirectly signal his intentions. And just like that, Kay had come calling first, so Francis, aware of Rembrandt’s wishes, hadn’t let the opportunity slip. Francis relayed what had been discussed. Rembrandt listened quietly before smiling.
“……I see. Maids…….”
“Yes. It’ll become clearer once we see who they want us to send over, but it seems they’re after attendants or personal maids to look after ‘Lady Christina’ up close.”
Rembrandt quietly touched his lips. Ah, so that was it. With one of the Marchioness’s maids attached to “Reina,” this was likely their way of severing that tie first. Francis offered a subtly similar yet distinct read.
“There’s friction with the Marquis and his wife, but ‘Lady Christina’ seems likely to side with Sir Arthur.”
In the normal course of things, “Lady Christina” would have simply inherited her servants from the Marchioness—her mother and the lady of the house. The fact that they wanted separate maids who answered only to Sir Arthur suggested……they aimed to create some distance between “Christina” and the Marchioness, drawing her into Arthur’s camp to let her act independently.
“…….”
Did this align with what “Reina” wanted? It wasn’t clear if Julius—or Sir Arthur, or both—were the ones putting her in a bind. She hadn’t answered when Rembrandt had asked. Either way, he needed to meet her again to confirm. Francis continued, noting that Arthur’s side was assuming their situation would reach the imperial family through Lord Rembrandt. Rembrandt gave an awkward, embarrassed smile.
“……They still see me as the Empress’s watchdog, huh.”
Francis replied,
“Yes. So for now, I just floated the idea that we could help out with the servants. Told him if Sir Arthur wants to place anyone in the mansion, Your Excellency could frame it as ‘imperial favor’ and make it happen—so look into it if interested.”
Rembrandt laughed.
“It went well, then. Did you manage to convey that we’re on friendly terms?”
Francis shrugged and grinned along.
“Yes. Told him Your Excellency’s neutral, closer to His Highness the Crown Prince than Empress Maria. Didn’t think he’d take my word for it, though. He’s probably digging into it himself by now.”
Rembrandt expressed his honest gratitude.
“You really make things easy.”
“No trouble at all.”
Francis then handed over the binder he’d tucked under his arm.
“By the by, the task you assigned is all wrapped up. We’ll have to wait for Sir Arthur’s response anyway.”
Rembrandt had given him several jobs, but the timing and the item itself made it clear what this was. He took it and flipped it open with a smile.
“Looks like I owe you a proper treat today.”
“I won’t say no.”
What Francis had prepared were the resumes and letters of recommendation for the servants and maids Rembrandt had been readying to insert into the Julius Mansion. In truth, they’d been preparing to plant their own people there even before Kay arrived—people to serve as Rembrandt’s eyes and hands, monitoring Julius. That was why Francis had been able to float Rembrandt’s proposal under the banner of “imperial favor.” With his promise to seek out Reina in mind, Rembrandt began to move.
