Another tragedy unfolded at Viscount Ida’s estate.
The Baron’s wife, moved by pity for the adopted son whose life had been ruined by a single mistake, secretly visited him. However, her visit ended in catastrophe.
Her reasoning for undertaking such a perilous visit can be surmised through the testimony of a maid who accompanied her.
“After all, he was family. When the Viscount passed away, the only person left to share her grief was Lord Dieter. Perhaps she hoped to speak with him to find some relief from her suffocating sorrow.”
It seems she wanted some sort of explanation from the man who had killed her husband.
While her motive was deeply pitiable, from an objective standpoint, her choice was undeniably foolish.
Her visit was interpreted quite differently by Dieter, who had just begun to regain his senses as a criminal.
Dieter, waking on the cold floor of the underground cell, struggled to accept what had transpired while he was unconscious.
At first, he denied his father’s death, then his own guilt, and finally concluded that the entire situation was a conspiracy aimed at framing him.
The mastermind, Dieter surmised, was none other than the Viscount’s wife, who stood to inherit everything in his absence.
Seizing an opportunity when the Viscountess let her guard down, Dieter assaulted her maid and snatched her pocketknife.
With it, he attacked the Viscountess, slashing her face nearly ten times before being startled by his own actions and fleeing.
As the visit had been made at dawn, when few were around, Dieter managed to evade capture and escape.
“Lord Dieter believed the Viscountess had conspired against him.”
“My word, how could something so horrifying happen?”
“He wasn’t in his right mind. He had no memory of the incident and seemed even more confused because of it. The Viscountess, trusting the Dieter she had always known, made the mistake of unlocking the door....”
Amaia, speaking in a somber tone, trailed off and lowered her gaze.
Her face bore fresh scratches, a testament to the struggle she had endured with Dieter.
The abrasions, as though caused by a fall, hinted at the ordeal she had faced the previous night.
Onlookers watching her testimony were filled with pity.
Though they had heard whispers of the tragedy that morning, the detailed account was far more shocking than anticipated.
“The Viscountess is very frightened of visitors, so we plan to restrict access to the servants’ quarters for now. I will personally bring her meals upstairs for the time being.”
As Amaia spoke, the gathered staff nodded in unison as though rehearsed.
When Amaia entered the kitchen, the entire staff crowded around her, leaving the once-busy cooking area eerily empty.
Amid the focused listening, someone accidentally burned the dough left on the pan. Despite the growing smell of burning, no one returned to their station, leaving the culprit unidentified.
“Well, is there anything else we need to be mindful of?” the head chef asked in a reassuring tone, stepping forward as the group’s representative.
Amaia maintained her professional demeanor as she conveyed a few precautions.
Dieter, refusing to accept reality, muttered repeatedly, as though trying to convince himself, “This is a dream. It’s just a ridiculous dream...”
Yet, the fact remained—Dieter was imprisoned on the charge of killing his father. He needed to come up with a way to escape the consequences of this crime.
After a long pause, Dieter finally looked up and said the words they had been waiting for.
“Madam, could you not help me escape? Please, help me flee in secret. You know what will happen to me if I stay here... Please, I beg you, out of pity.”
After a long, agonizing hesitation that visibly tormented Dieter, Carmen finally agreed to his plea.
And so, Dieter’s escape was carried out in a calm and mutually satisfactory manner.
Through tears and snot, Dieter left behind heartfelt thanks as he mounted the horse prepared for him.
The generous travel funds Carmen provided played no small part in hastening his departure.
Though no one could guess what Dieter might think upon hearing the distorted rumors about himself later, one thing was certain: he could never return to the Viscounte’s estate on his own accord.
****
“Amaia, come over here. Can you check if I’ve tied this correctly?”
“I’ll do it for you.”
Amaia instinctively responded, shaking off her wandering thoughts as she walked briskly to Carmen.
Carmen was struggling to fasten the string of her veil at the back of her head.
The hook needed to be secured from behind, making it difficult to manage on her own.
With swift precision, Amaia resolved Carmen’s difficulty and stepped back, murmuring with admiration.
“No one will be able to tell who’s under that.”
“As long as the body shape is similar, I suppose you’re right.”
Carmen agreed, gazing into the large mirror on her vanity.
It was an intriguing situation, enough to catch Iona’s attention as well. Her gaze lingered on Carmen.
Feeling slightly uncomfortable under the scrutiny, Carmen asked cautiously, “Does it not look the way you imagined?”
“No, it’s just... the appearance reminds me of someone.”
--- End Of The Chapter ----
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