Still, for what it's worth, she is an Imperial Palace Inspector. I suppose I should treat her accordingly.
Cynically muttering to herself, Eliza commanded the preparation of “a very long table where conversation is out of the question, but at least one can make out facial features.” The Queen’s ladies-in-waiting placed the exceedingly long table, perfectly suited to her taste, in the center of Eagle Hall. Positioned perpendicular to the coat of arms, Eliza’s seat was unmistakably the head beneath the emblem.
“Prepare plenty of food. She is embarking on a long journey, so send her off with a full belly. As for me, prepare a cup of tea.”
Beneath this oh-so-touching order, Ivanka was served a mountain of food. The problem was the magnificent surroundings framing that mountain.
The hall was monstrously, damnably huge and unusually dark, and the expressions of the maids and ladies-in-waiting in their gray uniforms were as dry and withered as parched autumn leaves. And the Queen of Richmond, who had personally orchestrated this entire setting, sat across from Ivanka, sipping tea with elegant poise.
As Ivanka merely stared at the food before her, Eliza beckoned Lady Isaac. After relaying something to her, Lady Isaac approached Ivanka with upright posture, moving along the side of the table.
“Her Ladyship asks which dish is the most delicious.”
Ivanka’s gaze reflexively turned toward Eliza. This damnable table was so long that, let alone conversation, someone with poor eyesight wouldn’t even be able to make out facial features. When she gave no answer, Lady Isaac urged her with a calm tone.
“Which dish is the most delicious?”
Ivanka wanted to scream, “Could you swallow food in this situation?” The most infuriating thing in this damnable situation was that Eliza Richmond was making a lady-in-waiting relay every word she wished to say.
“Her Ladyship asks which food is the most delicious,” Lady Isaac repeated.
Ivanka forced her trembling lips upward and answered.
“The steak is quite delicious.”
At that, Lady Isaac, as if she had been waiting, spoke to a maid on standby.
“Bring more steak.”
Unable to endure any longer, Ivanka reacted as if in a fit.
“That is enough! I never asked for more, did I?!”
“…….”
Lady Isaac stared blankly at her, then wordlessly approached Eliza.
Ivanka felt as though she might go truly mad. All that echoed in the vast hall were her own voice, the sound of her own utensils, and the flat voice and footsteps of Arwen Isaac passing between her and Eliza. Moreover, the oppressive weight of the long, long table grew with every passing moment, so that the meager food she had eaten lodged in her chest and would not go down.
Then Eliza Richmond, who until now had only been sipping tea, rose from her seat. Clad in a black dress with a stiff collar and wrapped in a black fur shawl, she approached Ivanka with languid steps. As Ivanka inevitably rose from her seat, Eliza stopped before her and asked.
“I am glad the food suits your palate. Was the steak worth eating?”
“…Yes. Thank you, I have eaten well.”
“Hmm.”
Eliza nodded with an inscrutable expression, then lightly gestured toward a maid standing before a food cart. As the maid pushed the cart closer, Ivanka hastily spoke.
“I have had sufficient.”
But at Eliza’s ensuing action, Ivanka lost all words.
Eliza personally cut the steak on the plate into several pieces. The sound of the knife scraping the plate was strangely loud and clear. Having cut a second plate of steak in the same manner, Eliza had the maid place those plates before Ivanka.
Ivanka’s face flushed crimson. Eliza stared fixedly at her and wiped her hands with a handkerchief.
“…I have eaten enough, Duchess.”
When Ivanka spat out the words as if growling, Eliza curved her lips into a smile for the first time.
“I know. You have eaten enough. The knights who accompanied you are likely eating their fill as well.”
“……?”
“I merely extend hospitality to all guests who come to my castle. These plates are for guests I have not yet had the chance to receive; do not trouble yourself thinking they are for you to eat.”
Two plates for guests not yet received.
The black panther quietly bared its claws and fangs.
Ivanka Tyrien, who had habitually indulged in erratic caprices and manipulated the capital’s noblewomen at will, felt a cold chill run down her spine. The moment she parted her lips to ask what she meant, Eliza’s cold words continued.
“Ah, and I have something to give you. Deliver it to Her Majesty the Empress in my stead.”
A knight who had been summoned came carrying a black box. As he approached, a fishy scent seemed to waft from somewhere. The knight came right up to Ivanka and, without warning, opened the lid before the faltering woman.
“Uck!”
The moment the box opened, Ivanka reflexively covered her mouth against the surging stench of blood. A wave of nausea surged, as if the food she had barely managed to eat was about to come back up.
“Urk.”
“Oh dear. Is it the smell? But you must deliver this to the Empress, so look closely.”
As Eliza spoke sweetly and gestured, the knight pushed the box toward Ivanka. Inside the black box were over a dozen emblems caked with blood.
“Uu-ugh!”
As Ivanka retched more violently, a twisted sneer hung at the corner of Eliza’s lips.
“Tell Her Majesty that I have punished those who betrayed Richmond, and fortunately Richmond is at peace as it was not swept up in civil war. Ah, and should she require documents regarding Richmond’s traitors, tell her I shall send them personally should she ask.”
“Ugh.”
“Do eat more at your leisure and leave slowly. However, Richmond’s winter roads are treacherous. Travel carefully, Countess Tyrien.”
Smiling gently at Ivanka, Eliza passed by her side with a soft rustling of fabric. By the time Eliza reached the main doors of the hall, Ivanka had finally vomited up the contents of her stomach, and Eliza walked on unconcernedly and commanded:
“Gather the leftover food and feed it to the pigs.”
“Yes, my lady.”
To think she would vomit from such a minor upset stomach—how troublesome. The things I will give her in the future will be far more horrific than this.
Eliza Richmond let out a silent laugh.
And roughly an hour later, having barely calmed her nausea, Ivanka Tyrien fled from Duke Richmond’s castle as if escaping. As she spat out curses filled with malice, she began to tremble violently from the maddening chill seeping through the door cracks.
“Damn Richmond…!”
The duke and duchess seemed to embody the black panther.
Ivanka ground her teeth and clenched her fists tightly. Eventually, all her resentment flowed toward Hazel Chernin.
Had that wretch sent proper people, the outcome might have been different!
“Grace—she couldn’t handle that one woman!”
But soon, realizing how exceedingly incomprehensible this was, she fell into deep thought. Inevitably, Edward Rinko’s words came to mind.
“The Duke, Eliza Richmond, and Grace Taylor have joined hands. Do not take this situation lightly. Rinko is only the beginning.”
Yesterday’s expression of the Duke, his fluster, vividly came to mind, and Ivanka’s round eyes narrowed.
Shortly after, she hurriedly wrote a letter, and one of the three falcons the inspector traveled with began to beat its wings.
＊ ＊ ＊
In the Black Tiger Hall of the Dekhan Imperial Palace, a massive black tiger emblem hung lengthwise, larger than Richmond’s blue eagle coat of arms. Beneath the roaring tiger emblem was a golden imperial throne, upon which lay the hide of the black tiger that the late emperor had raised.
From behind Hetbiga, who was gazing at the throne, a priest in holy vestments approached and bowed. Without turning to look at him, Hetbiga opened her mouth.
“How is His Majesty faring?”
“He has not yet regained consciousness, but he is in good health.”
“That is a relief.”
“Do not worry too much, for he will soon awaken—this is what the High Priest told me to convey to Your Majesty the Empress.”
Hetbiga laughed soundlessly, a brief puff of air. Instantly reining in her laughter, she turned gracefully and spoke to the priest.
“Yes, do convey that I earnestly hope for the same.”
As the priest bowed and withdrew once more, Hetbiga turned back toward the throne with an expressionless face. And she began an earnest prayer. It appeared to be the anguished prayer of an Empress for the unconscious emperor she had tended for over a decade, but the content of what she inwardly prayed for was rather far removed from an anguished Empress.
Please, let the Emperor die as soon as possible.
The God who had mostly been on her side cruelly refused to answer this particular prayer easily. So Hetbiga prayed a bit more devoutly.
Please, let him die already.
How long had she been praying like that? A lady-in-waiting quietly roused her.
“Your Majesty the Empress, a falcon sent by Chief Lady-in-waiting Ivanka has arrived.”
The Empress’s serene eyes snapped open.
She hurriedly returned to her room and opened the letter; its contents were not the least bit pleasant. Biting her lip and exhaling hot breath, she immediately summoned Count Jaksen and Countess Jaksen.
“What is the matter, Your Majesty the Empress?”
In response to Count Jaksen’s question, Hetbiga flung the letter before him.
“Read it.”
Count and Countess Jaksen put their heads together over the letter Hetbiga had cast aside. Two pairs of eyes rolling along at a steady pace stopped at a certain point as if by agreement. Then they simultaneously raised their eyes as wide as lamp flames and looked at Hetbiga.
Hetbiga sneered at the two of them.
“What do you think of the notion that woman may yet become the Duchess of Richmond? You complained that you could not even find a trace of Grace, and it seems you had good reason, did you not?”