Chapter 91

That night.

I was wandering around the castle.

I wasn't aimlessly strolling; I was warming up my body in preparation for the entrance examination the next day.

'I'd like to swing my sword in the spacious garden, but...'

In the castle, only the king and his personal guards are allowed to carry weapons, so the most I could do was run or stretch.

"Hey! The woman standing dazed in front of the rose trellis, who are you?"

"Cut it out, man. She's a guest of His Majesty. I've seen her walking in the garden for the past three hours, so let's just pass by quietly."

"Three hours? It's the same person, right?"

"Hmm."

It's the same person, you guys.

'I did walk for too long.'

It was suspicious for a woman with brown hair to be wandering around for three hours late at night.

Maybe it's because I inhaled the overwhelming scent of roses for too long, but my sense of smell seemed to have numbed at some point.

My mind was so blank that all the杂念 about today's events seemed to fly away.

Just as I was about to turn and head back, a man standing in front of the rose trellis caught my eye.

That noticeably upright posture...

"Drashero?"

Hearing my voice, the man standing there turned to look at me.

Actually, I was a bit uncomfortable around Drashero.

I was uncomfortable right after we met again at the noble's meeting, but after we toured Count Serenye's gallery together today, I became twice as uncomfortable.

The blade of guilt that pricked my conscience had become even sharper.

'Besides, he saw me swinging my sword.'

When I burned the head of Viscount Medeis, I used my right hand to avoid arousing suspicion from Drashero, but it still felt awkward.

'If a maid asks why I swing a sword, what should I say?'

That it's a hidden weapon of the Weatherwood family? Or just a hobby for physical fitness?

I didn't have the courage to get closer, so I stopped at a distance and asked.

"Why are you standing there dazed?"

"Nothing in particular."

Since he said it was nothing, I was about to ignore him and continue on my way.

But it felt a bit rude to pass by without a word, so I glanced at him and noticed a drop of red blood on his fingertip.

No, even if I wanted to, I couldn't be so heartless as to ignore a wound.

"Did you get pricked by a thorn?"

"Yes. It's dark..."

What's with the excuse?

'It's really nothing, I guess.'

But a small spark can turn into a big fire if you're unlucky.

Sigh, I have no choice. It's time to use the 'First Aid Kit for Hardworking Maids.'

First aid kits are essential for travel.

It was fortunate that I had bought one during a sale at a general store in preparation for this day. (I bought it two days before departure.)

The problem is that it's in my room.

"Follow me."

"Excuse me?"

"I said, follow me."

Drashero, looking puzzled, followed me obediently until we entered the main building, climbed the stairs to the second floor, and opened the door to my bedroom.

Standing in front of the open door, Drashero looked at me with a complicated expression.

"Miss Daisy, what do you intend by bringing me to your room?"

"I have a serious intention. I want to treat your finger."

"It's not a wound that needs treatment."

"Still, come in. I'll apply some medicine and send you out right away. I have no ulterior motives."

Come in nicely.

If not now, I might never get to use the 'First Aid Kit for Hardworking Maids.'

Perhaps my warning glance worked, as Drashero stepped inside hesitantly.

I opened the tin box with excitement. Shiny new bruise ointment and disposable adhesive bandages were inside.

"Give me your hand."

A large, rough hand came into view. A piece of flesh was torn under the fingernail, and it hadn't healed yet.

Just as I was about to hold his wrist to disinfect his finger,

"Let me ask you one thing."

His extended hand was suddenly grabbed.

"Are you really Daisy Pagger?"

He asked very strongly.

At that moment, I forgot to breathe and could only stare blankly at Drashero's rough palm.

I was afraid to meet his eyes.

'So suddenly?'

To ask such a thing so abruptly and incoherently?

Just before my breathing became rough from the quickening heartbeat, I quickly regained my composure and looked up.

I shouldn't show any signs of being flustered here.

I put on the most annoyed expression I could and replied.

"I am a maid."

"I can see that. What I mean is... whether Berti Rushan or Daisy Pagger is your real name."

...Berti Rushan? How does this guy know my friend's name?

...

Oh.

"His Excellency Janail, the Duke, has been responsible for the security of the southern islands of the empire for the past four years. After the war, there have been rare survivors appearing from the islands, and it is also the Duke's duty to protect and monitor these survivors."

So that's how it was discovered.

'Some of the villagers knew about Berti's death. Did they do a background check?'

I sighed in relief. My identity hadn't been exposed.

Still, it would be hard to deny everything. I needed to understand the purpose of his question first.

"I don't understand why you're asking this. If Berti Rushan is my real name, would it create a problem that didn't exist before?"

"It would, since the person is already dead."

"Did you see the body?"

As I asked, Berti's face, buried in the ground, came to mind.

Next, Andert appeared in my mind. The long scar that ran from his cheek to his jaw.

The vivid scar that proved he was alive.

I felt a surge of anger but managed to suppress it and continued.

"Did you see Berti Rushan's body? If he's not dead, what if he's alive and well?"

"You think he could be alive, even though everyone thought he was dead."

Drashero, who had been looking at me with a clear gaze, slowly closed and opened his eyes. He was hesitating.

I didn't know what he was hesitating about, but after a short, heavy silence, his hesitation came to an end.

"Is that your story? Andert."

My heart sank.

"…What are you talking about?"

Before I could finish asking, he flipped my hand over.

As my hand flipped, my arm also flipped, and Drashero pulled up my sleeve without hesitation.

And there it was.

The marks of the oath, side by side.

"Do you remember the photo I received from Count Serenye today? There were three men in the photo: me, Duke Janail, and Andert Pagger."

I recalled the three men who were undressing in the photo.

"The oath mark was also imprinted on Andert's arm in the photo. In the same position, at the same angle, and of the same size as yours."

...Oh no.

'Shit.'

No, no. It's not over yet.

'This is a stretch. Four years ago, I only had two oath marks on my arm. It can't be the same as now, when I have three.'

But I couldn't point out the number of marks.

It might be a lie from Drashero.

The oath marks might not have been visible in the actual photo. Pointing out the difference in number would be problematic.

Drashero already knew that I had two marks on my body four years ago.

So, mentioning the photo was likely a trap.

"This is just a coincidence. It's too weak to be used as evidence."

I thought this was the most reasonable response.

Until Drashero's tightly closed mouth opened as if he had been waiting for it.

"Miss Daisy, I have been with some of the best swordsmen on the continent for nearly ten years. My talent with the sword may not match theirs, but I have the skill to protect my own life. You held the sword with your right hand to deceive me."

"Proof?"

"It's simple. If you were right-handed, the enchanted earring would have been worn on your right ear. Using the opposite ear would be inefficient. Also, you usually used your left hand in daily life. When drinking tea, giving directions, picking up objects, and even when leaning on one leg, you always used your left side."

He looked down at my right hand, which he was holding tightly, and continued.

"But you used your right hand when shaking hands. Like when we met at the airport. In a society where most people are right-handed, this is a common habit of left-handed people who are considerate."

I couldn't speak for a moment.

Because Drashero's continuous questioning was so, so creepy.

'When did he investigate all of this?'

I already knew he was a sharp man, but this was too much.

"...So, just because the oath marks are in the same position and you think I'm a left-handed swordsman, you're suspicious of my identity now?"