Chapter 58

At the heart of the Bistor Empire lay the capital, commonly known as Pellena.

If an outsider were to ask which household owned the grandest mansion in Pellena, they would receive a variety of answers.

However, if they inquired about which street boasted the most magnificent estates, there was only one response.

The Loyes District.

It was a neighborhood where only the highest-ranking noble families clustered together, an aristocratic quarter so vast that the commoners’ concept of a “street” would need to be multiplied dozens of times to capture its scale.

And today, one of the grand mansions within the Loyes District was presenting an extraordinary sight.

Standing out even among its opulent neighbors, this estate featured a grand pediment roof with towering, intricately carved columns adorning its front.

A wrought-iron fence, sculpted into the shape of rose vines and crowned with spear-like tips, stretched endlessly, enclosing an area so vast that simply walking its perimeter would be exhausting.

Even after passing through the main gates, visitors had to remain in their carriages for a while before reaching the mansion itself.

The front yard—large enough that high-ranking noble families often used such spaces as auxiliary training grounds—stretched the distance of ten four-horse carriages lined end to end.

At the entrance to the residential quarters, a massive fountain gushed crystal-clear water, large enough for multiple carriages to circle around it with ease.

Throughout the courtyard, life-like sculptures were strategically placed, their craftsmanship so exquisite that they appeared almost alive, ensuring that the grounds remained picturesque even in the dead of winter.

And if the estate had a front yard, it naturally had a back yard as well.

In truth, the rear garden was even larger than the front.

After all, a grand noble house of the Loyes District only occupied the capital during the social season. The rest of the time, they resided in their respective territories—yet their estates in Pellena alone were vast enough to accommodate dozens of people comfortably.

Today, however, one-third of the breathtaking front yard was covered with wagons and crates.

It seemed as though every single servant in the mansion had been mobilized, bustling about in a flurry of activity.

“Faster! Move faster!”

“Stack them carefully—don’t let anything topple over!”

They carried crates, loaded them, and then carried even more.

Standing before the grand fountain, directing the chaos, was a middle-aged woman. Beside her stood a small girl, watching the commotion with evident delight.

Despite recently turning twelve, the girl’s youthful features made her appear even younger in the eyes of most.

Her silver hair was woven into an intricate braid, adorned with delicate gemstone chains. Her sky-blue eyes gleamed with excitement, and a radiant smile graced her delicate features.

Ordinarily, such a smile would be considered breathtakingly beautiful. But to the servants, it was a sight they dared not look upon directly.

Because the silver-haired girl, Valentin Elandria, was a strict and demanding master.

“Delma, did you pack my red dress? The one with the rose embroidery?”

“Of course, my lady. I made sure to include all your favorites.”

The forty-something woman, who had just been barking orders at the servants with a stern face, instantly softened her expression when responding to Valentin.

Pleased by the response, Valentin nodded imperiously, satisfied.

“As expected. My brother says there isn’t a decent dressmaker there. Can you believe I won’t even be able to take Madam Feuillet with me?”

Though she spoke in a tone of complaint, her voice carried an undeniable thrill.

Delma, ever attentive, nodded fervently.

Madam Feuillet was the owner of the boutique favored by House Elandria and was someone Valentin adored.

“That’s unfortunate, my lady. But at least you’ll be able to see Madam Feuillet again during the holidays.”

“That’s far too long to wait. It’s absurd!”

Valentin pouted, just as her brother, Nellusion Elandria, emerged into the courtyard.

Following closely behind him was his trusted knight, Joseph Caron, who wore a serious expression as they spoke.

Seeing his sister’s antics, Nellusion sighed and addressed her with an exasperated look.

Standing side by side, the siblings’ matching silver hair and sky-blue eyes made them look even more alike.

“Valen, didn’t I tell you yesterday? All of that won’t fit in the dormitory.”

“Then I’ll just move into a bigger house!”

“There is no such dormitory. Nor is there any need for one. Just take what you need for studying.”

Though the dormitory where Nellusion resided in Carten was already a mansion fit for high-ranking nobles, it wasn’t large enough to accommodate all the items Valentin was cramming into over a dozen carriages.

“This is the dignity of a duke’s daughter!”

Valentin declared as though it were a profound statement.

In truth, most of the things she said were declarations like this.

Joseph chuckled, charmed by her audacity, while Delma gazed at her as though she were the most precious existence in the world.

“Oh my, to have such an admirable sense of nobility at such a young age.”

“Don’t encourage her, Delma. Valen, I already said no.”

Valentin was about to protest again, but Nellusion’s expression had changed.

Gone was the look of exasperation—his face was now calm and composed, though his eyes remained firm and unyielding.

As she stared at his expression for a long moment, Valentin eventually pouted.

“…Fine.”

“Delma.”

With an unwavering tone, Nellusion called out to Delma.

Immediately, she raised a hand and commanded the servants.

“Stop! Unload all the crates! We’ll have to repack everything!”

The servants were miserable, but none dared to show displeasure.

Valentin Elandria was the little tyrant of this household, and Delma, her beloved nanny, wielded immense influence.

To displease them meant immediate dismissal—without so much as a letter of recommendation.

One by one, the crates of clothing, jewelry, dolls, and picture books were unloaded back into the courtyard. Each container was a solid, high-quality trunk that spoke of wealth.

Nellusion did not doubt that his instructions would be followed.

Just as he turned to head back into the mansion, his gaze landed on one of the servants.

It was a lower-ranking maid, but one whose name he happened to know.

“Isabelle.”

Maidservants were not typically involved in heavy labor, but due to the shortage of hands, Isabelle had been helping move boxes, sweating under the summer sun.

Upon hearing his voice, she quickly straightened and stopped working.

“Yes, my lord.”

“You’re coming with us. There’s someone I want you to look after.”

“A child?”

Isabelle hesitated, unsure whether this meant she was being dismissed and sent to serve in another household.

Seeing the uncertainty on her face, Nellusion smiled gently—a breathtakingly handsome smile that would make anyone’s heart flutter.

“You’ll still be paid by our household. The child is a distant relative of ours and will likely need someone to attend to her. Just watch over her and let me know if anything happens. I’m concerned about her staying alone. Can you do that?”

Who would dare refuse? The servants respected and admired Nellusion.

Unlike Valentin, who treated them as less than insects, he was kind to everyone. And his words—full of consideration—even went so far as to provide a maid for a distant relative. Who else would do such a thing?

Even though Isabelle knew her status was far beneath his, she couldn’t help the way her cheeks flushed slightly. She bowed her head and nodded.

“Yes, my lord. I’ll do my best.”

“Good.”

Satisfied, Nellusion turned and headed back into the mansion.

As he walked, Joseph, his loyal knight, spoke quietly beside him.

“Are you referring to Miss Truydd?”

“Yes. It would be best if others started seeing her as someone under the protection of our family.”

To Nellusion, the son of a duke, it was only natural that a noble young lady should have a personal attendant.

Perhaps, if Nerys weren’t as useful as she was proving to be, he would have kept his distance. But things were different now.

Joseph hesitated before speaking again.

“About that incident last time…”

“I know, Joseph.”

Nellusion’s voice remained calm. “That’s precisely why I think Nerys should have a maid. Someone needs to keep an eye on her—to make sure she doesn’t do anything she shouldn’t. She’s just a child, but that makes it even easier for her to be manipulated.”

His blue eyes glinted briefly, and Joseph felt reassured.

After missing a perfect opportunity to kill Cledwyn Maindulante, Joseph had replayed the events of that night over and over in his mind.

Where had the plan gone wrong? How had he escaped? Did he have help?

No matter how much he thought about it, Joseph kept coming back to Nerys Truydd.

She had known his name despite never having been introduced. She had appeared at exactly the right moment.

She had spoken as if her classmates were about to rush in at any second, making it seem like they were on the verge of being caught—but later, he found out that classes had been held in the next building over.

And yet, her explanation had been flawless.

She had claimed to have mistaken the location and that someone else had redirected her.

Considering how often Nellusion and Joseph were seen together at the academy, it wasn’t unreasonable that she would know his name.

Even so, it was suspicious.

Joseph had been growing increasingly uneasy about how lenient Nellusion was toward Nerys.

But now, it seemed he had misjudged. Nellusion wasn’t being careless.

—

In the courtyard, Valentin watched the servants repacking her luggage with much greater irritation than before.

She had spent many nights imagining her life at the academy, planning her outfits down to the finest detail. Now, those plans were being ruined.

Seeing her sulk, Delma smiled in an attempt to lift her spirits.

“My lady, you’ll still be able to bring all your favorites. Surely Lord Nellusion wouldn’t want you to go without even a single toy.”

“That’s not the problem.”

Valentin’s face twisted with frustration, an expression ill-suited to her delicate features.

“It’s Megara. You heard what she said.”

Megara Lykeandros was a year older than Valentin and exceptionally beautiful.

Valentin liked that about her.

Whenever the Lykeandros family was nearby, she often spent time with Megara. Being with her meant she rarely got scolded by adults.

However, Valentin had little respect for Megara’s status. When Megara wasn’t around, she spoke of her with disdain, referring to her name without honorifics.

Delma quickly recalled Megara’s visit to the mansion a few days prior.

She had spoken mostly about her life at the academy. There hadn’t been many remarks that could have offended Valentin.

Before Delma could say anything, Valentin grumbled.

“She had the audacity to call my brother by a pet name and act like she belonged to our family! I was irritated the moment I saw it. That uncultured, unsophisticated girl. How dare she speak as if she represents our house when I, the true heir, am right here?”

Ah, so that was it.

Delma carefully humored her.

“My, how arrogant of her. It’s utterly absurd. She doesn’t even share your surname.”

“Exactly.”

Valentin’s eyes flared with indignation.

Delma knew that once Valentin got fired up about something, she wouldn’t let it go easily.

She simply gazed at the girl with boundless affection.

She also remembered Nerys.

It had been a little over a year since Nerys and her mother had visited the mansion, requesting financial support for her tuition.

A daughter of a lowly knight—so utterly beneath Valentin that the comparison was laughable.

The mother, at least, had proper enunciation, though her etiquette was lacking.

The daughter? A disgrace.

Delma had been worried that merely placing such a wretched creature in Valentin’s presence might be contaminating.

After Megara’s visit, Valentin had asked Nellusion about Nerys.

His response had been:

“She’s useful. Maintain a cordial relationship with her.”

Useful.

Valentin had scoffed at that.

What use?

Weeds should be pulled out before they could steal the nourishment meant for good seeds.

That was how the world worked.

Letting the unworthy gain a foothold was a mistake.

Valentin declared haughtily,

“I won’t stand for this. I’ll make sure she trembles at the mere mention of my name.”