Chapter 40
Episode 40. What Are You Afraid Of?
2023.10.10.
The guild was as lively as ever.
It was time when everyone should have been asleep, but the drinking party's atmosphere was just reaching its peak.
Mikhail, standing at the bar as usual, skillfully mixed a cocktail and served it to the customer before him.
"Ah, drinks from a man taste bad. No women? Pretty sister."
While Mikhail dealt with the intoxicated customer, another bartender entered from inside the bar.
"Mikhail. Time to switch."
He spoke informally, but his gaze toward Mikhail was deferential. After all, in this guild, no one dared stand above Mikhail.
Mikhail stepped away from the bar and headed up to the second floor.
The gentle smile he wore like a mask before customers vanished, replaced by a cold glint in his eyes behind his glasses.
As if awaiting him, a subordinate approached and handed over documents.
"Personal records on the investigation target. It took time since he's a Delmark knight—we had to go all the way to Delmark territory."
"Good work."
The subordinate bowed briefly and withdrew. Mikhail flipped through the documents.
They concerned 'Kalligo Elphrinde,' whom Blair had commissioned a fortnight ago.
[Discovered abandoned in front of the temple shortly after birth and taken in by a priest; raised in the temple's internal orphanage.
Remained at the temple until age thirteen, then joined the Delmark Knight Order on Pope Gerard Lumiel's recommendation.
Thereafter, went to war alongside Duke del Mark...]
Mikhail's brows gradually furrowed as he read the documents with an impassive expression.
'Why of all people this one.'
Kalligo Elphrinde was entangled with someone Mikhail was none too fond of. Was this mere coincidence?
After finishing the documents, curiosity stirred.
Why was Blair investigating this man?
* * *
"A banquet?"
Blair, strolling in the garden amid the noticeably warmer weather, widened her eyes at Mason's unexpected proposal.
"Yes. No banquets have been held in the past ten years since the previous Duchess passed."
"Ah......"
"Now that Madam seems settled into the duke family's life, how about hosting one to welcome spring?"
A banquet wasn't merely for enjoyment—it was a day to lay bare everything about the family to outsiders.
Not just wealth, but the family's atmosphere, the bond between head and wife, and even their influence in the empire, gauged from attendees.
A stage to reveal all.
Especially the first after a new lady of the house held greater weight.
Not only outsiders, but vassals too would measure and judge their new mistress.
Thus, it weighed even heavier on Blair.
'Come to think of it, in my previous life, we held one around this time too.'
As princess, she'd never prepared one herself.
Blair wasn't one for rowdy parties, and major events like birthdays or debuts were handled by the imperial family.
The princess needed do nothing.
No matter what party she hosted, who would dare critique the imperial wealth or her?
From such a world, her first banquet prep was inevitably clumsy and daunting.
'And back then...... my health was poor.'
She had toiled over that banquet with great care.
There, she overheard vassals badmouthing her. Reasons abounded.
The princess threw money at a thoughtless event; white wine instead of red; no separate children's banquet......
Those words clawed her heart raw.
More than her efforts scorned, she ached thinking she'd shamed Herdin and Delmark's name.
But now she knew.
No matter how flawless, they'd nitpick some pretext to tear her down.
What they despised wasn't the banquet. It was her—Katrina's imperial daughter.
Thus, no need to wound herself on every barb.
"Madam, the duke family ran the past month on your budget plan. I trust you'll manage the banquet just as smoothly."
As Blair hesitated, Mason mistook it for reticence and praised her skill.
Discerning the sincerity in his gruff encouragement, Blair replied steadily.
"Yes, it's time."
Personally too, regrets from that past banquet lingered—she wanted to refine and execute it properly now.
"Prepare past references."
"Ready by tomorrow."
As Blair wrapped up with Mason, footsteps approached. Melly.
"Madam, the Empress Dowager summons you."
Unexpected tidings.
* * *
"Still no news?"
In their first private post-marriage meeting, Katrina's opening query was pregnancy.
Unsurprising to Blair. Mother was ever thus.
Blair replied evenly.
"No, not yet."
"Consummating regularly?"
"Yes."
Katrina lifted her tepid teacup, broaching.
"Men are fools fixated on the present. Only a child around their neck teaches fear and caution."
The referent: Herdin.
Two decades as her daughter attuned Blair to Katrina's pointed barbs.
Curiosity dawned.
What passed between those two left alone at her birthday banquet?
"Something happen?"
"Meeting Countess Lorellaine regularly, I hear?"
Blair paused mid-sip.
No intent to conceal from the start. Nothing illicit—just addressing overdue matters.
Yet knowing it irked Katrina, she'd omitted mention.
"Even planning hypnosis?"
Knowing Lorellaine hadn't tried hypnosis implied tracking session progress.
Via a mole in the dukehold.
"...You planted someone?"
"Out of worry for you. How know if the duke neglects you?"
Katrina hid nothing of spying—nay, brazen as ever, cloaked in maternal love.
That unyielding sincerity in her eyes stung deeper.
'A mother so concerned, yet in my past life, she knew my isolation in the dukehold and did nothing?'
Long-buried grudge pricked like burrs under blanket.
Blair swallowed it, quelling emotion.
Katrina set down her moistened cup.
"Tell her to stop. I dislike you doubting your mother thus."
"Not doubting you. Just revisiting back then's ambiguities."
"You question my testimonies?"
Katrina's tone sharpened. She winced, eyes squeezing shut then open.
"I'm weary. Horrified. Must I forever haunt that madwoman's ghost from a decade past?"
"Mother."
"What changes digging now? Her revival?"
"......"
"She's dead! Jealousy toward me drove her mad—prescribed neurotics—venting on you, she perished."
Blair gazed at Katrina shuddering at Esmeralda's mere recall.
She too had endured suspicion from Herdin and vassals over Esmeralda's death her whole past life.
Thus reluctant to suspect Katrina rashly.
Above all, fear—of doubting her own mother.
Ten years prior, Katrina sought Gerard herself that late hour. She who never deigned visit anyone. Solely to save Blair.
Blair learned then: even Ivan-first, she was ultimately mother.
Would discard Blair mercilessly for Ivan, yet that desperate bid to save her daughter rang true.
Thence she clung fiercer to Katrina's love.
*Still, Mother loves me.*
Leaning on hope, affection.
Truly believed.
No matter trophy-treated, son-exploited, surely not daughter's life pawned.
Yet Katrina's fear—not mere reluctance—of memory recovery sprouted long-shunned doubt.
"Mother. If truth, what frightens you so?"
Katrina's eyes swirled: rage, betrayal, shock... fear.
Reading it, Blair pressed.
"Suppress me no more, Mother."
"......"
"If you truly saw me as daughter."
Resolve gleamed in Blair's gaze at Katrina, tinged sorrow.
Still dreaded truth's veil beyond.
Yet this time, no fleeing.
