Chapter 10
A Person with Nothing to Lose
2023.08.11
Lowell Hessen was a dead man. That had been an established fact for over ten years.
And now—someone dares to say they don’t know whether he’s dead or alive?
After Monique left with a satisfied expression, Lowell recalled their conversation and let out a quiet laugh without realizing it.
“That attempt to probe me was far too shallow.”
It was the kind of thing one would only say if they thought Lowell was just a naïve young lady unfamiliar with the ways of society.
And indeed, she had acted that way on purpose, even spreading such rumors herself. But for Monique to fall for it so completely—
Worse still, Monique seemed quite taken with Lowell’s reply, enough to say to her:
[You may think of me as a mother, Lady Anette. I’ll be your strength for life here in the Imperial Palace. If you need anything, just tell me.]
My mother has long been dead—at the hands of your husband.
Lowell wondered what Monique’s face would look like if she said that aloud. But she didn’t bother to. The moment Monique sought her out, her fate had already begun to descend.
“No need to hasten things unnecessarily.”
A hunter always gutted their prey only once it was fattened enough. Until then, Monique would serve as a useful excuse.
Leaving behind two cups of cold tea, Lowell rose from her seat. The maids waiting nearby hurried forward and draped a shawl over her shoulders.
“Lady Anette, shall we escort you to your room—”
Smack!
The sharp sound rang out as the maid holding the shawl stumbled back, clutching her cheek. Tears welled in her eyes above her rapidly swelling cheek.
“L-Lady Anette… why…?”
“Why?”
Lowell repeated as if the question itself was absurd.
“If an intruder slips into the house while the master is away, the dog’s head should be cut off.”
What use was a dog that couldn’t even guard the house?
Especially if that dog had colluded with the intruder.
When Monique waited for her, refreshments had been neatly laid out on the table. Could that kind of reception have happened if Monique had barged in by force?
“No, Monique coming precisely when I was out was no coincidence.”
The saying that “even walls have ears in the palace” was no mere rumor. And for someone like Lowell, with so many secrets to hide, any wall with ears deserved to be torn down.
“Leave. All of you. I have no need of you.”
At her sudden declaration, the maids’ eyes sharpened.
“W-We’ve all been here longer than Lady Anette. If you treat us like this—”
“And if I do, what? You’ll kill me? Or go running to His Majesty to confess?”
“T-That’s not what we meant…”
The instant Lowell mentioned the Emperor, terror spread across their faces. Of course it did—the palace maids knew better than anyone how merciless the current Emperor could be.
Though things were calm for now, everyone who knew him feared when his sword might next be drawn. The maids included.
Lowell sneered inwardly at how quickly they dropped their glares and bowed their heads.
“As if they’re not guilty.”
She already knew they’d been punished after she fainted in the bathhouse.
And yet, while she was away, Monique not only forced her way in but was also served refreshments? That was undeniable misconduct.
No wonder they paled at the thought of Lowell reporting them to the Emperor.
She also remembered the whispers exchanged among the maids when she first moved into this palace.
[So she’s the bride?]
[Yeah. We even bet on whether she’d lose her head or be gutted alive. Lost all our wagers, though.]
[Why cling so desperately to life? To play the role of His Majesty’s consort, pretending to be someone else…]
[Still, if His Majesty favors her, all that’s left for us is to bow and scrape.]
Half of them surely reported her every move to the Emperor. The rest no doubt had connections elsewhere.
“Even if I replaced them, it’d be the same.”
But now that Monique had come, changing them carried meaning. At the very least, the next batch of maids would be careful not to align themselves with Monique.
“Besides, I was planning to change them anyway. This works out nicely.”
Monique had conveniently provided her the excuse.
“Do you have anything else to say? If not, get out.”
At Lowell’s gesture toward the door, the maids shuffled reluctantly toward it. They knew reporting that they’d been dismissed would earn them punishment from the head maid. Their faces were understandably grim.
Just before the door closed fully—
“Ah.”
As if remembering something, Lowell called out. She gestured to the maid holding the knob.
“You. Come back here.”
“M-Me? Are you speaking to me?”
“Yes. New maids will take some time to be reassigned, but I’ll need at least one to help me change clothes. You stay.”
The maid hesitated, then reluctantly returned.
“What’s your name?”
“Mabel… Lindell.”
“Is that so? A pretty name. It must be cold—let’s go in.”
At her compliment, faint delight flickered in Mabel’s gray eyes. Relief, too—she’d escaped punishment and even received praise.
Watching her, Lowell recalled the information she’d received from René.
<Shimon Lindell. Heir to House Lindell, First Knight of His Majesty.>
She already knew these basic details. What caught her attention was the family section beneath.
<Siblings – Younger sister: Mabel Lindell>
As Lowell walked back to her chambers, she glanced at the girl trailing behind her—the gray eyes so symbolic of House Lindell.
Those eyes would soon capture her every move.
“And then deliver them faithfully to Peter.”
Yes. Even walls had ears in the palace. Lowell intended to make good use of them.
The next day.
“Your Majesty, entrust Lady Anette’s protection to me.”
The papers in Peter’s hand froze mid-turn. He stared at the knight before him. Shimon’s gray eyes brimmed with determination.
He wasn’t joking. Peter dropped the papers with a soft thud.
“I thought you weren’t fond of Anette Martinek.”
“I’m still not.”
“Then what changed? I already heard she sought you and Noah out yesterday. Did something happen then to sway you?”
“Shortly after she came to us, I heard all the maids of Sheyen Palace were dismissed. All but my sister.”
Sheyen—that was the name of the palace where Lowell now resided.
“With my limited perspective, it’s hard to believe that was mere coincidence. Every step of hers reeks of suspicion. Surely she’s scheming something?”
“If it’s your sister you worry for, I can have her reassigned.”
“I appreciate the thought, but my sister is fine. It’s Anette Martinek’s true intent that unsettles me.”
Before approaching Peter, Shimon had already discussed this with his closest friend.
Noah was the smartest man Shimon knew. And since the subject was Anette, he couldn’t just talk about it with anyone.
“Noah. Anette Martinek’s actions trouble me. You said she came to you too yesterday, speaking nonsense about Lowell Hessen being alive…”
“No—her question was whether His Majesty would seek her out if Lowell Hessen were alive.”
“That’s the same thing, isn’t it?”
“It isn’t.”
Noah’s voice was firm. They hadn’t realized it, but he was the only one who grasped the core of Lowell’s question—and the only one who turned it back on her.
What was it she truly wanted?
That was the key to all her movements.
“The premise of Lowell Hessen being alive is meaningless. What matters is whether His Majesty would search for her.”
“Why? Isn’t what Anette knows the important part?”
“No—the important part is that she was testing our stance on His Majesty’s will.”
And by planting the suspicion that Lowell might be alive, she cleverly concealed the real issue.
At her words, Noah had reacted far more sharply than usual. In fact, Shimon thought it was the first time since his beloved fountain pen broke that Noah had looked so dark under the eyes.
And so Noah had warned him, in a voice edged with fatigue:
“Stay away from Anette Martinek, Shimon.”
“…I won’t ask why?”
“It’s certain she knows something—about Lowell Hessen, and about what we’re searching for. But to sit at the same table in this game of cards, the hands we hold are far too different.”
Anette knew she could shake them effortlessly with the single card that was “Lowell Hessen.”
But them?
“When we don’t know what she’s after, we can’t risk approaching her carelessly.”
“We can always find out what she wants.”
Shimon simply couldn’t understand Noah’s stance. Serving beside Peter, he’d seen plenty of tight-lipped men eventually reveal themselves.
“Threaten them, coax them—sooner or later, everyone shows what they want. You know that.”
“No, Shimon, you’re right. Rewards and punishments usually work. But…”
There was one thing Shimon didn’t know.
That there existed a kind of person immune to both threats and persuasion.
“…it doesn’t work on people with nothing to lose.”
