Do You Know Why You Were Summoned?

Standing before Queen Emilenne Filienne, Count Maurice Clavel could not stop his face from breaking into a smile.

When Isabella had confidently told him that her plan was proceeding smoothly, he had been seized by an indescribable unease. Yet soon after, a letter arrived from the royal family stating that a peace treaty with the neighboring country seemed likely, and that they wished to reward House Clavel for its service.

Isabella, who had not shown herself for several days, was apparently staying at the palace.

Forgetting for the moment the pile of petitions arriving one after another from his faltering domain, Maurice went to the palace in high spirits.

Waiting for him in a lavish chamber was the ever-influential Queen Emilenne Filienne.

Noel was standing behind Emilenne, but Maurice did not even pay him any mind.

Resting her chin on her clasped hands in a relaxed posture, Emilenne smiled.

“Do you know why you were summoned, Count?”

Thinking inwardly that her manner of speech was as grandiose as ever, Maurice tilted his head.

“Well now… I did receive words of praise in your letter, but since we merely carried out our duty as loyal subjects, I cannot for the life of me imagine why I should be granted such good fortune…”

Putting on a feigned look of ignorance, Maurice was in fact counting on his fingers all the rewards he had fantasized about during the journey to the palace.

‘Will it be money or land as a reward for achieving peace…? If it’s land, perhaps I’ll even be granted a higher title. I may even recover Marguerite. And Isabella—when did she ever manage to ingratiate herself so deeply with the royal family? Leaving beautiful Isabella behind truly was the right choice. Could it be… a royal marriage?’

Struggling uselessly to rein in his slackened cheeks, Maurice waited for the next words.

The Queen’s smile did not change. She did not speak of rewards, only continued to gaze steadily at Maurice. Noel, too, stood upright like a statue, smiling faintly.

Feeling as though there was something cold in their gazes, Maurice blinked.

“I hear my daughter Isabella has been permitted to stay at the palace…”

Unable to endure the silence, Maurice searched for another topic.

One that, to him, was joyous—an honor.

“Yes. That is precisely the reason you were summoned today. In truth, Noel here has grown close to Lady Isabella.”

Emilenne nodded.

Color returned to Maurice’s face.

‘A royal marriage!’

“Noel says he was deeply moved by Lady Isabella’s feelings for her elder sister. Lady Isabella repeatedly appealed to us, saying that her sister was being ostracized in House de Broy, treated like a servant, and that she wished her to be returned to her family home.”

Forgetting the ominous intuition he had felt earlier, Maurice became convinced of a happy ending.

Isabella would secure ties with the royal family—and Marguerite would surely return to House Clavel as well.

Nodding repeatedly, Maurice put on a pitiful tone.

“Yes, yes, indeed. Sending her to such a household tore at my heart. But for the sake of the royal family, for the good of the nation, we believed—”

“But all of that was a false report.”

Unable to comprehend Emilenne’s words as they cut him off, Maurice stared blankly, mouth agape.

“…Pardon?”

“Lady Marguerite has stated that she was treated with care by House de Broy. When Noel investigated, it seems that Lady Marguerite’s account is the truth.”

Emilenne was still smiling. But Maurice was beginning to understand that it was nothing more than a mask.

“Lady Isabella submitted false accusations to the royal family and attempted to frame innocent people. That is an act of defiance against state governance.”

As Maurice’s face drained to an ashen color, Emilenne leaned in, her smile vanishing.

All that remained was a piercing, razor-sharp gaze.

“For questioning, we had Lady Isabella stay at the palace. She admitted to her actions—but claimed that everything was done under her father’s orders.”

“That’s impossible!!”

Letting out a shriek, Maurice kicked over his chair and sprang to his feet.

Though clearly panicked, his behavior toward the Queen was outrageously rude, and Noel frowned.

“I have always had trouble with Isabella! That child lies constantly and repeatedly tries to undermine Marguerite—she’s always been that way. From childhood, she’s shifted her crimes onto others—”

“Then are you saying, Lord Maurice, that you had no knowledge of Isabella’s actions?”

Regaining his composure, Noel spoke in a calm voice.

Emilenne hid her expression behind her fan. She knew well that the gentler and softer Noel’s tone became, the greater his anger.

“Yes! Exactly so. Isabella told me nothing. I only learned today that she had even met with you, Lord Noel—”

At Noel’s words, Maurice nodded frantically.

His mind was filled with nothing but the need to brush away the sparks now raining down upon him.

Forgetting that it was he himself who had left Isabella unchecked, he loudly proclaimed his own innocence.

“I see. Very well.”

Noel smiled broadly.

“Then the insufficient upbringing of Lady Isabella—the supposed heir—her rudeness, and her lack of respect for the law… all of that is due to your failure of supervision, Lord Maurice.”

“Ah…”

Mouth hanging open, Maurice stared at Noel.

Until Marguerite had married out, the household affairs had been divided between Maurice and Marguerite. Anything difficult was pushed onto Marguerite, while Maurice only had to dote on Isabella. If the marriage proposal with House de Broy had never arisen, Marguerite would have remained at home, and that comfortable arrangement would have continued.

And who was it that had ordered the marriage between House de Broy and House Clavel?

—Queen Emilenne Filienne.

That same Queen was now narrowing her eyes at Maurice from behind her fan.

“You and Lady Isabella are parent and child, Count and future Count. A title cannot be entrusted to those who lack such awareness. Wouldn’t you agree, Your Majesty?”

“Yes, indeed.”

“You cannot produce a criminal from within your own family and then claim ignorance. Such excuses will not stand.”

Images of Lucien and Marguerite crossed Noel’s mind.

Marguerite, who had tearfully offered to dissolve her marriage to protect House de Broy.
Lucien, who had stood proudly and asserted the truth to protect her.

Compared to them, how selfish were Isabella—still crying and screaming—and this Maurice.

Looking down at Maurice, who had collapsed weakly onto the floor, Noel no longer wore a smile.