Chapter 17.1

The maid was a chatterbox. She prattled on about what he liked, his daily habits, his preferences, and his dislikes. By the time she had finished brushing Livi’s hair, she could already predict where Dominic might be at that very moment.

“Um, madam, would you like some scented oil for your hair?”

“No, that’s alright.”

“Then perhaps some perfume? It’s imported from Robita in the South, and it has a subtle floral scent!”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Livi watched as the eager girl presented one item after another with barely contained excitement.

What was she so thrilled about? Even as the lord’s cherished wife, Livi remained a Joseph, daughter of a family branded as traitors.

This was Celsion, the northern border territory. The people here had every reason to resent the House of Marquis Joseph for stalling peace negotiations, squeezing every last coin in compensation while the war dragged on.

With a blank expression, she asked, “Are you not afraid of me?”

“Pardon?”

“I could be a spy. What if I were still colluding with the Roben army? Shouldn’t you be more cautious around me?”

“Oh, no, madam! That’s impossible!”

The maid, who had been chattering nonstop, suddenly seized Livi’s hand.

“You could never be a spy, madam. They already caught the spy!”

“What?”

“She was executed two days ago. It was one of the new maids. I had a bad feeling about her from the start, you know? Her head is on display on the eastern wall. You can see it for yourself if you wish, madam.”

“They… displayed her on the wall?”

“Yep!”

The maid nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Livi opened her mouth to speak but found no words. She simply closed it again.

When spies were caught, they were forced to confess everything before their execution, then displayed as a warning. That was likely standard punishment under military law. In a borderland such as this, it was a common enough fate that even a fifteen-year-old girl didn’t bat an eye.

Yet, the moment Livi heard those words, nausea clawed at her stomach. That corpse would soon rot. The stench would spread, and insects would swarm.

What became of Mother?

The thought rippled through her mind like a stone disturbing still waters.

And Father? Haier? Had her innocent baby brother’s body been strung up on a wall as well? The relentless chain of images cut through Livi’s heart like a blade.

The maid finished braiding her hair and helped her into an evening dress. Livi barely noticed, her eyes vacant as she stared at her reflection in the mirror.

“Um, madam, are you feeling unwell? If your hair is too tight, I can—”

“No, I’m fine. I’d like to rest now. You are dismissed.”

Pressing her fingers to her throbbing temple, she sent the maid away, but barely a moment passed before a knock sounded at the door.

“My lady, are you there?”

“Who is it?”

“Hawthorne Trovesh. I escorted you to the temple earlier. Do you remember?”

Of course she did. How could she forget? The man who had picked a fight at the inn, the one who couldn’t even properly perform his duties in front of his fiancée. His name was seared into her memory.

Livi glared at the door.

Do I let him in?

As the silence stretched, Hawthorne knocked again. Livi sighed softly. If she allowed him inside, he would no doubt be a nuisance. But outright refusing him could prove troublesome in her situation.

Throwing a shawl over her shoulders, she granted permission. The door creaked open.

Even after opening it, Hawthorne hesitated on the threshold, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. It looked ridiculous, considering his large frame.

“Come in and have a seat.”

“No… I only came to deliver this.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. Lorena asked me to bring it to you…”

Lorena again. Livi was growing sick of that name. She tried her best to calm her irritation.

Even as she kept her gaze averted, refusing to acknowledge Hawthorne, he stubbornly extended the item in his hand.

“Leave it on the table.”

“Yes, my lady. Please do not forget… Oh, and His Grace will be coming down for dinner shortly.”

After an awkward bow, he turned and left.

Livi didn’t spare so much as a glance at the table. It was likely nothing important. Some spare change. A useless gift, like a piece of fruit. A tight knot twisted in her chest.

She turned back to the mirror, only to be met with flushed skin. Her eyes landed on the dark bruises, shaped perfectly like lips. The sight made her whip her head away in anger, but the sudden movement tugged at the burn on her neck, sending searing pain through her skin.

Livi lightly brushed her fingers over the bandage at her throat, feeling a sharp sting. Carefully, she grasped the edge of the cloth and began to unravel it. As expected, there was a mess of blood and pus.

Gritting her teeth, Livi cast a healing spell over the wound. The pus stopped almost instantly, but the pain lingered.

Several minutes passed as she shifted uncomfortably, hugging her arms and stamping her feet against the floor. Eventually, the pain dulled.

She glanced down at the soiled bandage on the vanity and sighed. It was yellowed and unusable.

Rummaging through a drawer, Livi retrieved a fresh roll and cut a suitable length. That part was easy. The real problem came next.