Chapter 93
Ellen excused herself, leaving mother and daughter to enjoy their reunion in peace.
Nerys and her mother went to the room where her mother had been staying, embracing each other and exchanging heartfelt greetings for quite some time.
At first, her mother had been practically dragged to Maindulante, and reportedly caused quite the commotion. Knowing how her mother could occasionally be extremely headstrong, Nerys nearly broke into a cold sweat.
Apparently, the knights of Maindulante who had brought her had been called everything from kidnappers to bandits.
But after receiving consistent good treatment here and reading several reassuring letters in her daughter’s handwriting, she had quickly started adjusting to her new environment.
Nerys’s emotions were tangled. Seeing her mother alive and well before her eyes filled her with joy and gratitude, yet part of her still couldn’t shake the suspicion that this might all be a dream.
But as she felt the warmth of her mother’s hand and breathed in her scent while in her embrace, happiness welled up uncontrollably.
“My daughter… You studied at that tough academy and even graduated. Of course, it would’ve been such a waste for someone as smart as you not to attend school.”
Despite saying that, her mother still looked as though some things didn’t quite make sense. And that was understandable.
Nerys didn’t know what Cledwyn had told her. But if it were him, he likely hadn’t said anything at all.
He would’ve known that it was something Nerys herself needed to explain and justify.
“But sweetheart, aren’t you going to show your mother your face?”
At the end of their long conversation, that question finally came.
Nerys slowly removed her veil. Her mother’s face, which had only been partially visible through the sheer black silk, now appeared much clearer.
Her mother’s eyes widened in shock as she looked into her daughter’s eyes.
Nerys gave a bitter smile.
“…Strange, isn’t it?”
“Strange—absolutely not!”
Though clearly surprised, her mother quickly replied with conviction. Nerys leaned into her mother’s arms and spoke in a low, sullen voice.
“Just before I came here, I suddenly fell ill… and then this happened. I’m glad you’re here, Mom. If you hadn’t been… who knows? The House of Elandria might’ve dragged me back. They’d definitely try to use me…”
Memories of her past life flashed through her mind.
Nerys’s hands, wrapped around her mother’s waist, turned pale. It felt like the floor beneath her had opened up, sending her into an endless fall.
She knew how paranoid her words must sound.
To her mother, the House of Elandria was her birth family, the benefactors who had helped with tuition… Even if the relationship had long been strained, they weren’t outright enemies…
A moment later, a warm and slightly larger hand grasped hers firmly.
It felt like that sensation of freefall stopped. Nerys looked up at her mother, who was gazing into her eyes with a twisted, yet understanding smile.
Ah.
In that smile, Nerys realized that her mother had been thinking the same thing.
Relief that she didn’t have to explain everything in a long justification washed over her, followed by a wave of sorrow. Her mother was such a gentle and kind person—and yet, just hearing the beginning was enough for her to understand.
Enough to accept, without question, a paranoid plan to disappear with her daughter, just to avoid being found.
It meant that something must have happened—something awful enough to reveal the true nature of the House of Elandria and make her recoil in disgust.
When had it happened? When her mother had insisted on marrying her father and was effectively disowned? Or later, when Nerys began to excel at the academy and caught Nellusion’s eye?
It was likely both. After all, her mother had suspected the House of Elandria even when she was first brought here.
“My daughter. My sweet girl.”
Her mother cupped Nerys’s cheeks with both hands and kissed her forehead.
“It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. I’m here now. No matter what happens, I’ll protect you.”
It was a hollow promise. What strength did her mother have to protect her? Even in her previous life, her mother had said the same thing.
And what had become of her?
And yet, somehow… those words brought immense comfort, and Nerys wanted to cry. Now that they would live together… if they had to die, they could die together.
A moment later, someone knocked gently on the door.
“I’m terribly sorry to interrupt your time together.”
A young woman’s voice followed. Nerys raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar voice, and her mother brightened.
“Dora! Don’t worry, Liz. Dora’s fine. I’ll tell her to come in.”
“Yes, Mom.”
Creak. The door opened quietly, and a woman in her mid-twenties entered, dressed in a modest outfit.
Tall, with chestnut-brown hair, she bowed first to her mother, then respectfully to Nerys.
“I’ve been assigned to serve you, my lady. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to let me know. I’ll do my utmost to attend you.”
A personal maid, in other words.
When Nerys had first heard of the West Wing, she assumed it was something like the staff quarters. After seeing it in person, it seemed far too luxurious for that, but perhaps that was just how things worked here.
So why assign a personal maid, rather than using staff from the supposed quarters?
“Alright, thank you. Were you just here to introduce yourself?”
“No, my lady. A meeting is about to begin in the East Wing, and you’re expected to attend. I’ve come to escort you.”
Nerys paused for a moment, not knowing where the East Wing was. Her mother quickly filled her in.
“The East Wing is where the administrators of Maindulante work. Since you’re being called there, let’s talk more when you get back.”
Even after all their long conversations, it still didn’t feel like enough. She hadn’t yet said—why, years before her Jeweled Eyes awakened, she had sent her mother to this place where they had no connections…
She hadn’t found the words to say it out loud.
Nerys nodded and stood. Then she lifted the black veil and put it on once more.
“I’ll be back soon.”
—
“The White Swan Castle—what the people here call Penmewick Castle—is divided into three main wings: the Main Wing, West Wing, and East Wing. The East Wing is used for administrative meetings and housing officials of the Grand Duchy. The Main Wing houses His Grace the Grand Duke, as well as the banquet halls and dining rooms.”
As she guided Nerys to the East Wing, Dora explained the castle’s layout.
“Then what is the West Wing used for?”
“The West Wing was originally unused, but ever since Madam Truydd arrived a few years ago, she has been its sole resident. Now that you’re here, the two of you will be staying there together.”
Heavens. Nerys felt faint. She had asked him to protect her mother, not to hand over an entire palace wing.
Though she had always demanded advances without hesitation, Nerys had never once considered the things she received from Cledwyn to be hers by right. They were debts—debts she fully intended to repay.
From the herb garden, the house, the cost of cultivating stingberry pouches, to the wages of the people who had guarded her throughout the semester—Nerys kept track of it all, planning to pay it back in full.
She had resolved to use her full abilities to provide whatever Cledwyn required for his rule.
‘He didn’t have to go this far.’
Was he out of his mind?
Was it just an empty space he offered? Nerys didn’t believe for a second that he would make such a decision lightly.
Granting someone an entire palace wing… it was a heavy gesture, steeped in meaning. A lord’s castle was a highly symbolic space.
Nerys already knew that Cledwyn wouldn’t be present when she arrived—his coachman had told her as much.
And she’d assumed he must be away for some important matter, so she’d had no complaints about his absence.
But now, she truly wanted to ask him what he was thinking—his absence was starting to bother her.
Seeing Nerys’s expression, Dora gave a faint smile. Like Ellen, Dora had looked at her warmly from the beginning.
There wasn’t a hint of flattery in her gaze—only calm sincerity.
“There may be shortcomings, but I’ll do my best to ensure you and Madam Truydd are comfortable.”
“…Thank you, Dora. May I ask you something?”
“Anything, my lady.”
“I don’t think you’ve been a maid all your life. What did you do before this?”
In her past life, Nerys had often seen her sister-in-law Camille give orders to her own shadow corps, the ‘Silver Moon,’ and had occasionally been brought in for interrogations. From them, she’d learned to recognize that distinct rhythm in how such people moved—those utterly silent footsteps.
That same subtle aura lingered in Dora’s unconscious mannerisms.
“Yes, my lady. You are quite right.”
Dora answered directly, a slight blush rising to her cheeks.
“I was originally a soldier, part of His Grace’s personal unit, Yayeon. After I failed a mission and was about to be executed, Madam Truydd found me and saved my life. I retired then and came to serve her.”
Apparently, her mother had been discovering and saving people left and right. It seemed life up north had not been dull.
“I see.”
“Ah, but very few people know about that. I try to behave like an ordinary maid. You must have a remarkable eye for detail, my lady.”
Indeed—if a former soldier, clearly so in demeanor, were to accompany a woman who had suddenly appeared in the north and been given a palace wing, it would have drawn too much attention.
And the name “Yayeon”… “discovered” after a failed mission… Nerys’s hunch was probably right.
Yayeon was likely the name of Cledwyn’s personal intelligence division.
Not just anyone was admitted into such a unit. Her mother’s safety had clearly been “well” secured.
Eventually, the two crossed the Main Wing’s hall and entered the East Wing. The moment they stepped inside, the atmosphere changed.
Unlike the West Wing, the East Wing had a much larger entrance, and the courtyard visible through the windows was immaculate. To be honest, it looked as if every plant that couldn’t be maintained had simply been ripped out.
But there wasn’t a trace of leisure to be seen. Every corridor buzzed with officials, each moving quickly with serious expressions.
Dora navigated the East Wing as if she knew it by heart, leading Nerys through a maze of rooms and hallways. Finally, she brought her to a grand door on the second-floor corridor.
Since entering the East Wing, Dora’s demeanor had become a perfect imitation of an ordinary maid—so much so that even Nerys found it hard to tell otherwise. Just before opening the door, Dora said to her:
“My lady, you need bow to no one here but His Grace. If anyone says otherwise, they’re lying.”
“Understood.”
The door opened silently. Nerys stepped inside and took in the scene at once.
The grand size of the door made sense—this was a large room. Around a long table sat about twenty people, each wearing a bored expression.
But those bored faces changed instantly upon seeing Nerys.
Curiosity. Wariness. Barely concealed pride.
Nerys had a good idea of the role she’d been assigned here. A position where she would bow to no one, and could take responsibility in her own name.
A lord’s direct advisor.
In foreign territories or merchant states, advisors were usually retired experts hired for peace and comfort.
But in the Empire of Bistor, among nobles, an “advisor” was akin to a chancellor.
Of all the officials a lord could appoint, the advisor bore the greatest authority and responsibility—and the choice was always politically calculated. Their jurisdiction covered everything from administration, finance, and justice—essentially all affairs of the territory.
This custom of granting advisors such power dated back to when the beautiful Palos, one of the three ancient heroes, served as the founding emperor’s advisor. Though the Imperial Family had abolished the advisor system over a hundred years ago and replaced the title with Chancellor, nobles still used the old name.
Even so, it was far too heavy a role for a low-ranked girl who had just graduated from the academy, and many likely harbored doubts—but judging from their reactions, it seemed true.
‘Insane.’
Truly insane. What in the world made him give her such a position? Nerys could only laugh.
She absolutely could not falter at this first meeting. With head held high, she walked confidently to the highest seat—the only one left unoccupied.
