Purple Heart (6)

On the dark night road, bright lights lit up here and there.

Luxurious carriages sped down the lined, illuminated streets, each flaunting its grandeur.

“I do not understand.”

Inside a carriage with all the shutters drawn, it was dark.

Though imperial spring hunts forbade royals and nobles from bringing attendants, most guests had left their servants waiting in the carriages.

“Did something happen, Madam? I heard the hunt ended without incident.”

The carriage’s mistress also had her closest maid wait inside.

The sharp-eyed girl could read her mistress’s expression well.

“There was an incident.”

“Truly?”

“I had never heard that he possessed such horsemanship, nor that he was a spearman.”

“Madam, of whom do you speak?”

The woman in the darkness slowly shook her head.

“I cannot say. But why would Lord Mote lend the shawl he cherishes like his own flesh to the Countess of Istevna?”

“Shall I investigate?”

The once-quiet carriage rattled lightly.

“Do so.”

“Yes, Madam.”

The maid replied with a reassuring smile.

“Tell the Marquis it is disappointing—no, regrettable. Say that our help ends here, and there will be no more letters.”

“Yes, when we return to the palace, I will deliver the message to Corinth House.”

The Duchess of Pfalz cast an annoyed glance at her maid for mentioning the residence of the Baroness of Goggins.

The maid lowered her head, waiting for her mistress’s mood to ease.

“It is time to let go. Truly, how unfortunate. A helper in the palace without wit, unable to warn the closest lady, forced instead to hint only to his young daughter. And then to cause such a ridiculous commotion—asking for three women to be eliminated? Absurd. I almost died. He will cause disaster one day. The deal ends here.”

The Duchess of Pfalz muttered softly to herself, so quietly that even the maid seated directly before her could not hear.

It was her habit to whisper her decisions aloud.

The maid strained to catch her voice, wondering if her mistress was contemplating her dismissal, but heard nothing.

Soon, silence filled the carriage.

The luxurious carriages arrived one after another at the imperial palace.

When guests changed into the carriages provided by the palace, only brief glances were exchanged.

Alicia, with Daisy seeing her off, boarded an imperial carriage.

The “Night of Opera,” hosted by the Empress, was held at the start of each new season.

Though usually hosted every season, at times it was skipped.

For women of society, receiving an invitation to a banquet hosted by the Empress was an honor.

To be invited to the Night of Opera itself was joyous, but human greed had no end.

Guests scrutinized the order of their invitations, the sequence in which carriages arrived at the palace, even the size of the carriages.

In fleeting moments, they measured their own status against others, and acted accordingly.

As Alicia switched carriages, she quickly scanned her surroundings.

The Empress summoned Alicia among the unmarried noble ladies.

Of those arriving at the same time, only Josephina Lirin was ahead of her in the order.

While transferring carriages, Alicia studied every lady’s face and recalled their backgrounds.

She was not examining them for courtesy’s sake.

Tonight, an incident was destined to occur in the palace.

“There is never a quiet day.”

The “Spring Night of Opera,” hosted by the Empress, began at noon.

Though called the Night of Opera, its true purpose was to build connections with the Empress.

At noon, guests paid respects and deepened ties.

Even the greetings had strict hierarchy and order.

Afterward, they viewed paintings or treasures the host had prepared, and sometimes purchased costly luxuries.

At times, an auction was held.

Once the endless display of refinement concluded, the main event began.

To host such banquets was both the duty and right of the Empress.

But it was a double-edged sword.

If the banquet went poorly, the Empress’s dignity suffered.

Low attendance, or an accident during the event, would all be blamed on her.

Yet even from the moment invitations were sent, her authority weighed heavily on noble society.

Since Empress Eleanor entered the palace, the opera house had become a space of utmost prestige.

For years, no matter how high a woman’s rank, unless she entered through the Night of Opera hosted by the Empress, she was considered provincial.

Such was the importance of this gathering, and the palace prepared thoroughly.

Yet this spring’s Night of Opera would be remembered for a string of mishaps.

The most meaningful Night of Opera—and the worst.

A night that could have gone down as the Empress’s most disastrous banquet.

From small accidents to grave ones, it seemed destined to be a night of misfortune.

Alicia wracked her brain the night before to recall every detail.

“Lady Josephina.”

Tonight’s chain of accidents began with Josephina.

On this first day, she was destined to encounter Pierre Gique, son of Count Gique.

It was when Pierre discovered Josephina in distress from an accident and aided her that the two grew close as lovers.

But as Alicia recalled, she began to suspect that Josephina’s original accident was not mere misfortune, but intentional.

Now, events had already diverged from memory.

Still, caution would do no harm, so Alicia resolved to accompany Josephina closely with an innocent face.

Josephina turned toward her.

She moved gracefully in a dress of pale green embroidered with large silver flowers.

“Lady Alicia.”

At her greeting, Alicia returned a polite bow.

Josephina returned a slight bow and stepped closer.

Alicia repeated to herself: a kind face, an innocent face, a good face—then steadied her voice.

“This is my first Night of Opera. Would it be acceptable if I waited with you in the reception room?”

“Of course.”

Josephina agreed readily.

“Lady Josephina. Lady Alicia.”

A palace maid who had been watching approached and spoke.

“I will wait with Lady Alicia in the octagonal reception room.”

Josephina told the maid.

“I shall guide you.”

The maid led the two forward.

It seemed the earlier guests had all gone ahead to greet the Empress, for the corridor was nearly empty.

“The octagonal reception room can host up to eight ladies. If any later arrivals request the same room, you will share it with them. Please understand.”

At the door to the octagonal room, the maid offered her apologies.

“Of course.”

“Yes.”

Josephina and Alicia replied together.

“It is an honor to serve you, ladies.”

With impeccable palace manners, the maid opened the door soundlessly.

The room, draped in deep blue silk, displayed the majesty and wealth of the Empire at once.

Its pillars and supports were veined marble.

The golden ceiling fresco, matched with chandeliers, glittered brilliantly in the sunlight.

Alicia stood awestruck, gazing around.

Josephina, accustomed to the palace, merely sat calmly in the prepared chair.

“Congratulations on winning the spring hunt.”

Josephina spoke to Alicia, who still stared wide-eyed at the room.

Startled from admiring the chandeliers and fresco, Alicia quickly composed herself.

“I was simply lucky.”

“Luck is a skill as well.”

Alicia offered a perfunctory phrase and started toward Josephina, then paused.

On Josephina’s usually bored face, a subtle shadow had fallen.

“I thought you would join the spring hunt. I was sorry not to see you there.”

Alicia carefully chose her words, searching for something to lighten the mood before asking directly, Is something wrong?

“I had intended to, but something came up.”

Josephina’s face darkened further as she spoke.

Alicia fought the urge to press too quickly.

“Something came up?”

Josephina did not seem intent on hiding it.

“Lady Alicia, do you know anything of the Baroness of Kvant?”

Alicia blinked at the sudden question.

“…The Baroness of Kvant—the beauty famed for the mole beneath her eye?”

“So you do know her.”

The baroness, famous for her beauty mark, was etched in Alicia’s memory for another reason.

She was Gregory Barker’s mistress.

Alicia was surprised Josephina had already discerned the baroness’s true nature.

“What dealings have you had with her?”

At Alicia’s question, Josephina slowly shook her head.

“None. I was only curious if you knew anything.”

In that short moment, Alicia agonized deeply.

Her deferential stance toward Josephina came from guilt.

Josephina’s life had already diverged sharply from before.

Any word from Alicia could alter it further.

The thoughts whirled chaotically in her mind.

“I have heard the Baroness collects foreign porcelain. Her collection is said to be remarkable.”

Alicia began with something commonly known.

Though ordinary, spoken in a hushed tone, it caught Josephina’s interest.

“So I have heard.”

Josephina, now newly kin to Alicia, studied her with curiosity.

The once-invisible Alicia Rain had shaken the empire’s society with her betrothal to the Grand Duke of Tessen.

“I do not know if it is mere rumor, but there is talk.”

Alicia leaned in as though hesitating whether to speak.

“What talk?”

Through her mother, a royal princess, Josephina already knew of the rare gifts Alicia distributed among the concubines.

Such gifts required not only wealth but intelligence.

“They say the Baroness is not merely a collector, but a mover of the porcelain trade itself. Some claim the shops she frequents are secretly hers. She acquires pieces so aggressively that others may have spread these tales to slander her.”

Alicia hinted as much as she dared.

What followed would depend on Josephina.

“An amusing rumor. It sounds rather plausible.”

Josephina looked up at the fresco, lost in thought.

Alicia also fell silent, measuring her memory.

The affair between the Baroness of Kvant and Gregory Barker had been caught red-handed.

Baron Kvant, returning suddenly from the southern frontier, had caught his wife in the act.

The largest porcelain shop in Baden was owned by the baroness.

Pretending to be a customer, she frequented the store, manipulating prices and encouraging purchases.

Among collectors, her influence was considerable.