The Fake Madam Disappeared

At the Winter Duchy’s basement.

“Ugh… ugh…”

In one of the deep, dark rooms, intermittent groans of pain echoed. Angela slowly opened her eyes, then closed them again, panting heavily.

She didn’t need to look to understand the condition of her body. Even though she could barely lift a finger, Angela focused all her remaining strength on her legs.

‘I can’t…. move my legs.’

All she felt was despair.

A sickening crack, followed by the sound of bones twisting, and she passed out again without even a scream. She wanted to believe it was just a dream. It had to be.

But when she opened her eyes again, nothing had changed. Angela rolled her eyes to look at her legs.

“Ah, ahh…!”

She found her legs grotesquely twisted, sending her into a violent convulsion.

What was even more unbearable was the deafening silence of the basement despite her sharp cries. There were others there, breathing, but not a single person responded to her screams.

As if they were nothing more than lifeless bodies.

‘No, no!’

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut, but nothing changed. Desperate, she scratched at her legs with her fingernails, which were already worn down to the nub. But she felt nothing from her lifeless legs.

Even if she started treatment right away, she would be crippled for life. Exhausted, Angela collapsed after screaming until her voice broke. Blood dripped, blurring her vision, and with unfocused eyes, she stared blankly at the ceiling, thinking.

‘Why am I being treated like this?’

Angela searched through her memory, the time before she was dragged here.

‘Marinda…!’

A few years ago, Angela had accidentally caught Marinda stealing a painting. She couldn’t sleep that night, so she got up to get some water. That’s when she noticed Marinda sneaking around, tiptoeing with shifty eyes.

Marinda was someone no one particularly liked, brought in by the Madam herself, so Angela had been keeping an eye on her for a while. Sensing something suspicious, Angela quickly followed Marinda. She only managed to see Marinda enter the basement before she was caught by the Chambermaid and had to return to her room.

A few days later, Angela sneaked into Marinda’s room and confirmed what she had taken from the basement.

“This is…”

It wasn’t jewelry or anything of the sort. It was a painting of His Excellency and the Madam, painted by the royal painter. The Madam’s face was torn to shreds.

Angela stared at the scissors lying next to the painting, then back at the ruined image. Only then did she realize Marinda’s feelings toward His Excellency. Marinda was in love with His Excellency, her Madam's husband.

Angela thought Marinda had completely lost her mind. She was about to report it to the Madam, but then she decided to use it to her advantage. She toyed with Marinda, using the painting as leverage, but like a boomerang, it all came back to her.

‘What did I… what did I do wrong?’

Angela sobbed. She felt wronged and that made her fume with anger.

‘I won’t stay still either.’

Her bloodshot eyes flared with determination. She gritted her teeth and crawled closer to the iron bars.

The only fortunate thing was that they believed she still had something left to reveal. So, they kept her alive and continued to bring her meals.

Angela swallowed hard as she heard footsteps approaching. As the maid lowered the plate, Angela seized her wrist.

“!”

“W-wait.”

The maid flinched and tried to pull away, but Angela quickly pressed a jewel into her hand. It was something the guards had overlooked, hidden deep in her pocket. Her desperate efforts to keep it hidden for such a moment hadn’t been in vain.

“I’ll give you this… p-please bring… the Ch-Chambermaid…”

Her words were slurred due to her chattering teeth, but she managed to make herself understood. The maid stared at the jewel for a moment, then nodded.

Angela, anxiously watching for the guards, finally relaxed. The maid turned to leave, but in her haste, she knocked over the plate, spilling the food. Angela didn’t care.

‘I can live now.’

Once she tells the Chambermaid everything, it wouldn’t be her in this place, but Marinda. Clinging to that hope, Angela curled up, waiting for the maid to return with the Chambermaid.

T/N: Neither Angela nor Marinda was better than the other 🤷

E/D: Yeah I hope they just punish each other and disappear before Daphne comes back. Also the guards are pretty incompetent if they can't even search her pockets properly. 🤣

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Young Master.”

“...”

“Young Master!”

Damian’s eyes finally focused after repeated calls. Vent poked out his head from behind the stack of documents.

“What were you thinking about so deeply that you’re not even answering my calls?”

Ignoring Vent’s questions, Damian snatched the documents from him.

“You’re a little weird today, Young Master.”

Instead of going back to his seat, Vent looked Demian up and down, his suspicions unshaken.

“Just look how haggard you look. Why were you wandering around the training ground early in the morning?”

“Move.”

Damian frowned, pushing away Vent’s face, which had come too close to his liking.

“Well, at least your personality is the same as usual.”

Relieved, Vent returned to his seat but soon looked back again.

“Speaking of, did you find the person who gifted you the sword? Was it really His Excellency?”

“... Why are you asking that all of a sudden?”

The scowl on Damian’s face deepened even more at the mention of the matter that had been troubling him. Confused by his reaction, Vent stepped back in surprise.

“What? I was just curious.”

“Just do your job.”

“Yes, sir.”

Vent grumbled as he went back to his seat, only a few steps away from his Master’s seat.

“I… have something to ask.”

Vent raised his head. But instead of looking at Damian, he glanced around the room, puzzled. Of course, there was no one else, so he tilted his head in confusion.

“Where are you looking?”

Vent, who had just shifted his gaze to the documents, finally met Damian’s eyes and realized he hadn’t misheard. The Young Master was asking him a question.

Blinking in disbelief, Vent stared blankly as Damian hesitated.

“This is… about a friend of mine.”

“Ah, yes. Yes, of course.”

Snapping out of his daze, Vent focused on his question, forgetting the fact that Damian had no friends.

“There’s someone my friend really hates. But this person suddenly disappeared and my friend received a very nice gift. It seems like it was sent by the person my friend hates. What do you think?”

“Are you sure it was sent by the person your friend hates?”

“Well… almost sure.”

“Then are you sure your friend really hates that person?”

“I’m certain.”

Damian spoke firmly. Vent furrowed his brows.

“This is tricky.”

“Is there any way to resolve this?”

“The quickest and surest way would be to find the person who disappeared and ask them directly.”

“Is that so…”

Damian suddenly rose from his seat. Vent checked the time, but it wasn’t yet time for the next scheduled event. Out of habit, Vent stood up to follow him.

“Where are you going, Young Master?”

“To my father.”

“His Excellency…?”

These father and son duo were neither close enough to visit each other without a specific reason, nor the type to have tea together.

“Your schedule is not finished yet.”

“I know.”

“Then what business do you have with His Excellency…?”

“I’m going to find her.”

His words came out of nowhere.

“Pardon? Who are you going to find?”

“You told me to find the person who disappeared and ask.”

Vent froze in place as realization dawned on him, his mouth slowly falling open.

“No way…”

“So I’m going to find her, Mother.”

*To ask. *

— — —

“No, you can’t.”

The response came without hesitation.

“Why not?”

“You’re still young.”

Edmund rejected Demian’s request with a simple reason – he was still young.

“I’m not young anymore. I’m already 15 years old and have become-of-age…”

“And can you defeat me?”

Damian shut his mouth. Anyone who heard Edmund’s question would find it absurd. Being asked if he could defeat one of the continent’s top swordsmen.

Even though Damian was often called a genius, it was obvious he couldn’t even graze Edmund’s sleeve. Knowing this, he couldn’t question Edmund's authority easily.

“... It’s impossible right now. But in ten years, I’ll definitely surpass you, Father.”

“Yes, it’s impossible right now.”

Edmund repeated exactly what Damian said. But his son didn’t give in easily.

“Not everyone in the search party can defeat you, Father. But if I win against all the members of the search party, please grant my request.”

Edmund stared at Damian in silence.

Damian, who had never made any requests until now, had come asking to join the search party for Daphne.

Edmund found this situation perplexing. He couldn’t include him in a search party that had already been disbanded. Even if it hadn’t been disbanded, he had no intention of granting Damian’s request.

If he were to mention the disbanding of the search party, he would ask for the reason, and Edmund had no intention of revealing anything about Nick. But Damian, inheriting his father’s stubbornness, showed no sign of giving up. If he didn’t make it clear, his son might go off on his own.

“They’ll find Daphne soon.”

“How can you be so sure? The search party hasn’t moved since two days ago.”

“We’ll distribute Daphne’s portraits.”

“Portraits, you mean…”

“Damian.”

Edmund called his name in that familiar low voice. Damian, lost in thought, raised his head.

“Why are you suddenly interested in finding Daphne?”