There were numerous voices. At least four, perhaps. If they had one thing in common, it was that all those voices were laced with a snarling hostility.
"Seeing that black hair, she must be an illegitimate child."
"Even if she's an illegitimate child, noble bloodlines don't produce black-haired offspring, do they?"
"Maybe she dyed it. Can't resist getting close to His Majesty's side, can she?"
At one person's words, the others laughed uproariously.
"I don't get it. If she's a Martinek, she wouldn't lack anything."
"Why? I get it. Opherta, you know about it. Heard any rumors from that side?"
Opherta was the Empire's backworld. Of course, the quality of the rumor cannot be good. The same goes for the stories that pass beyond the wall.
“If you touch this man and that man, you will probably want to touch His Majesty the Emperor at least once.”
"Ugh, how vulgar. You shouldn’t call a woman like that a lady.”
"Just calling her a lady is fortunate enough. Helen got slapped, you know. If His Majesty changes his mind, her neck might be on the line."
At the mention of Helen's name, Simoren confirmed that the gossiping individuals were the maids who had served Annette in the past at Shayen Palace.
'If the maid who got slapped was named Helen...'
Maids in the imperial palace, especially those who had to serve the imperial family, were usually brought in from noble families. Mabel also became a palace maid for the same reason. The only reason why noble daughters, who may have been raised properly in their respective families, volunteer to serve someone is because it becomes their network and career.
So, if rumors spread about a maid being slapped, it would only tarnish her reputation. Unless you were present at the time, or involved, you would not be able to say without hesitation that someone was slapped in the face like that.
'But even considering that, they're going too far.'
Despite the fact that Martinek's lineage may be somewhat distant from the noble families, receiving the title of Marquess still stands. Moreover, the gossip among the maids was hostile enough to furrow Simoren's brow, even though he had no particular affection for Annette.
"Really shameless. Seeing as how she came in to imitate a dead person, she must have quite thick skin."
When this topic finally came up, Simoren's patience reached its limit. Those maids had to pay the price for mocking him.
Simoren immediately reached for the hilt of his sword, but
"How dare they now..."
"What's wrong?"
He was stopped.
Surely, just a moment ago, Annette, who had been standing by his side, had somehow come close and placed her hand on top of his hand holding the sword.
"It's not wrong, is it?"
"...Are you serious?"
To endure such an insult right in front of him? Simoren frowned, giving her a doubtful look, but there was not even a flicker on Annette's expressionless face.
"Then do you want to say that your opinion is different from theirs?"
No, it was rather chilling. Even though she didn't intentionally meet his gaze, her indifference shook him to the core.
"You also think the same. That I'm shameless, a woman with a thick skin who came here to imitate the dead."
"...I..."
Simoren's lips parted, but his suppressed voice couldn't form a sentence. He always lost his words in front of Annette. Her words were true.
Unable to continue speaking, Simoren sent a cold gaze at Annette, who was staring at him without any expression.
"If they need to be punished, it's my job, not yours. A knight who shares the same opinion as them won't help. So leave it to me."
"But the fact remains that they're mocking Lady Annette. And it's also a knight's duty to punish such individuals."
Simoren tried to continue speaking, but he couldn't understand why he was saying these things. Even though Annette's words were true, Simoren also shared the same opinion as the giggling maids beyond. He disliked Annette, and that sentiment remained unchanged.
So surely, just a few days ago, or perhaps just a few hours ago, Simoren wouldn't have felt so frustrated. If Annette hadn't laughed and made eye contact while showing him the shortcut. At least, if Annette had shown even a slight sign of anger at those words...
"I'm too exhausted to deal with them one by one, Sir Lindel."
...If he hadn't seen Annette's true feelings, he wouldn't have been able to know what was going on inside her.
"You also judged me without a shred of doubt, just by looking at my black hair. Why wouldn't they do the same?"
"...I'm truly sorry for what happened then."
"There's no need to apologize. Since everyone in this world probably thinks the same way."
Saying that, Annette turned her head towards the setting sun. Some time had passed during their conversation, and now the sky was red and the surroundings were bathed in twilight. The faint crimson also settled on Simoren's pale gray hair.
But even amidst that, Annette’s hair remained black.
Due to being entirely black, the twilight couldn't color her. It seemed to have no effect on her whatsoever.
Except for one thing, Annette, looking at the setting sun, seemed to long for something.
Standing in front of Simoren, she was like a swaying reed. Like a sedge by the riverbank.
Firm yet graceful lines.
Against the backdrop of the twilight, Annette's voice fell like falling leaves.
"I'm really tired. I just want to go back."
Her murmuring voice was as silent as soaked paper.
"Even more so when I see you. Sir Lindel is indeed a good brother. Mabel really likes you."
Even though it sounded like it was being said to someone else, Annette's gaze shifted toward Simoren. Though he couldn't accurately discern her inner thoughts, Simoren could sense her regret hovering over her expression. It resembled a kind of longing.
Regret for something she could never have, or something she had let go.
Annette never said much, but even that alone conveyed a clear message to Simoren.
Annette's "brother" meant only one person.
‘Was there any intervention from Rene Martinek?’
If Annette came here under Rene's pressure, then her behavior was somewhat understandable.
What Simoren couldn't understand until now was the lack of motive behind Annette's actions.
But Rene is the leader of Opherta. If he has any ambitions, he could certainly use someone of her lineage. That is the most plausible hypothesis.
‘Of course, this is just my speculation…’
So there was a need to confirm it at least once. As the voices that were whispering exchanged conversations, they had vanished. In the returning silence, after much inner conflict, Simoren spoke up.
"Lady Annette. I heard what you told Noah."
"About what?"
"That your goal is to calm His Majesty's madness."
"Oh, that's right."
"That mean... I want to know what you mean."
The difficult words came out colorlessly, yet Annette easily nodded her head.
"There's no need to think so deeply about it. I just want the moment when I'm no longer needed here."
"If that moment comes..."
"When His Majesty's madness completely subsides, then there will be no purpose for me to be here anymore."
And then she could leave too.
"As you've seen just now, there's nowhere here where I can breathe freely."
It would be really nice if there was even a place where I could close my eyes for a moment. Muttering so, Annette looked terribly tired.
Everything he had been wary of about her now seemed ridiculous.
Now, Annette reflected in Simoren's eyes was a doll. A marionette who had been used for her lineage's ambition and was now a substitute for the dead where there was no one else to be kind to her.
Although Annette still didn't seem appealing to Simoren, there were already various emotions within him regarding her. Pity, guilt for what he had done wrong, and even a kind of sympathy.
[I’m talking about Lady Annette, brother. I didn't know, but she was the same age as me. I think that's why we communicate quite well. I thought she was a cold person, but it turned out she was more cheerful than I thought.]
Simoren was a good brother and a kind person. At least to the extent that he couldn't ignore the voice of his conscience.
So after much deliberation, he finally spoke up.
"...Three years ago, there was a place closed off by imperial decree. It hasn't been opened since then, so if you like, you can spend some time there."
Simoren closed his eyes tightly before finishing his sentence. To tell Annette a secret was, from his perspective, akin to committing his first major indiscretion.
Because of that, he didn't even notice the hint of surprise in Annette's black eyes, which had until a moment ago worn an innocent expression.
"A closed-off place... Thank you for your offer, but, can I really go to such a place?"
"It's a place no one ever looks for. Just once should be fine."
"Is that so?"
The corners of Rowell's mouth gradually lifted.
"Thank you so much, Sir Lindel."
If Simoren had opened his eyes at this moment, he might have been able to anticipate what consequences his judgment would bring.
However, Simoren couldn't bring himself to open his eyes, and he also couldn't know that he was being deceived by the woman in front of him.
To Simoren, who knew nothing, Rowell whispered with a smile.
"We have two secrets now."
It feels like we've become much closer, don't you think?
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