In the end, the first to speak was Orchid.
“No matter how you look at it, this is unbelievable.”
Orchid’s voice was filled with disbelief.
“Is there really not a single person here who told the kitchen about Liliana’s request?”
Changing the meal menu was nothing significant.
Especially for a noble family—more so.
They were no ordinary house; they were the Valentine Marquis House.
A prestigious clan trusted deeply by the Emperor himself.
Any other noble family hearing about this situation would scoff in disdain.
“Not even one person?”
No one readily answered.
“That’s not my responsibility.”
Amid the uneasy silence, everyone trembled with anxiety.
“I only do what I’m told. Who usually handles this?”
“I’m not the only one who didn’t do it… I hope I’m not going to be the one held accountable. The person responsible was originally…”
“I thought someone else would step up. Who was it before?”
Their thoughts all led to one conclusion.
‘Iris Valentine.’
Everyone recalled her face.
The calm, principled second lady of the house with her distinctive lavender hair, unlike anyone else in the Valentine clan.
Even such a trivial matter had passed through her hands and been managed.
But no one dared to utter that name aloud.
It was a name taboo for far too long.
Silence stretched like a shadow.
“I believe the message was conveyed, but it seems the kitchen didn’t act on it.”
A voice avoiding responsibility.
Though spoken by a senior steward, the truth remained unclear.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Liliana pouted.
“How could my request have been ignored? I’ve been saying it for days!”
“In that case, may I ask who exactly conveyed the message? We need to find the person in charge…”
“How am I supposed to remember everything? I have plenty of other difficult tasks!”
“S-still, surely someone remembers.”
“I mentioned it casually, but it should have been heard! It worked fine before, so why now?”
“Everyone’s been so distracted… I apologize, miss.”
“This is ridiculous.”
Their father, Kaidrich, who had been silent, spoke with a solemn tone.
“How on earth is the estate being managed to end up like this?!”
One of the stewards hurried to the kitchen.
“What? This was today?”
The kitchen master’s response was even more absurd.
“Forgive me, master. Without the ingredients arriving, the kitchen cannot prepare the dishes…”
The kitchen master’s voice trembled in fear, sensing the tense atmosphere.
“Especially the seafood Lady Liliana favors—it’s rarely caught even on the Eastern Coast, so it must be specially requested from the merchants.”
Kaidrich frowned deeply and raised his voice.
“Then how were we getting it before?!”
He was furious that the head of the household had to micromanage even such trivial meal issues.
“Before, the dishes would be served on the table promptly the day after the request.”
It felt like he was losing control over the household.
“There’s no major crisis, so what’s changed? Stop spouting nonsense.”
Under the scathing words of the enraged head, the kitchen master hung his head low.
“That’s because back then, the ingredients were delivered under Master Orchid’s orders, so the situation was different.”
Orchid responded with a baffled expression.
“Me? Why would I, the heir, be involved in something like that?”
“The servant who brought the ingredients insisted they were seafood that Lord Orchid personally procured for Miss Liliana! I’m certain!”
The head chef pleaded earnestly.
“Is that so? When Liliana begged for something, I—”
Orchid tried to recall, but the memory was hazy.
“—I asked Iris to handle it.”
Iris Valentine.
The name surfaced again, this time spoken directly by Orchid.
What had only been a whispered thought among them now resounded aloud, solidifying into a heavy presence that weighed down the air.
On the day Iris left, not only family but also the manor’s servants were present.
Dressed in a humble wedding gown, Iris addressed her family with a few final words.
‘This is likely the last thing I do as a member of your family.’
‘I am no longer part of your family. Your convenient daughter no longer exists.’
Her cold voice was so detached that it scarcely seemed directed at her kin.
‘So live on like this forever, as if I had never existed among you from the start.’
Kaiderich’s boiling anger twisted his face violently.
“Do you think things fall apart just because some girl’s not here? Don’t talk nonsense when you’ve got nothing to say!”
Iris’s words had struck a nerve deep within Kaiderich’s volatile temperament.
“What were the housekeeper and steward doing for the family to end up like this!”
At the head’s roar, the steward and housekeeper nearby hurried over.
But they had no excuses to offer.
They had been stuck in their habitual ways, doing things as always.
‘Then what do we do now?’
‘Who takes over the tasks Iris was handling? What exactly was she doing?’
It was a question far too late.
The situation had already erupted, and no one could quell the head’s volcanic fury.
“This house doesn’t need incompetent servants who can’t even fulfill the master’s demands!”
Kaiderich rose abruptly, shouting with lethal intent.
“Have everything properly prepared for Liliana by tomorrow!”
Unable to release all his frustration through yelling, Kaiderich overturned the table before him.
The marble surface shattered under the grip of a mighty swordmaster.
The carefully arranged dishes crashed loudly, scattering in chaos.
“If something like this happens again, none of you will remain unscathed!”
Kicking the half-broken marble aside, Kaiderich stormed out of the manor.
The banquet hall was a wreck.
Broken plates and mashed food lost all semblance of form and even became repulsive.
The meal could not continue under such conditions.
Orchid, unable to soothe the sobbing Liliana, prepared to take her out for a meal instead.
‘What kind of chaos is this?’
The servants who witnessed the scene were still dazed, leaving the mess untouched.
‘I never realized how much work Miss Iris had been handling.’
Only after she vanished did they fully grasp the weight of her absence.
Even those who took orders from Iris were astonished.
One person had managed countless small tasks, overseeing and managing everything.
“Do you know exactly what kind of work Miss Iris was doing?”
The Valentine steward quietly asked the housekeeper.
“I know some of it… but can all of that really be the housekeeper’s job? It must have been too much.”
“Then who else was doing it?”
Valentine remained engulfed in chaos, as no one stepped forward to bring order to the situation.
‘I don’t even know what’s what anymore.’
Uneasy suspicions surfaced without warning.
‘Could it be that our Valentine clan...’
‘Is something about to happen?’
Yet, they brushed off these fears far too lightly.
‘What could possibly go wrong just because one person is missing? Things will keep running somehow.’
‘After all, this is the Valentine clan.’
None among them truly grasped the severity of the matter.
Even those who sensed it barely made an effort to change anything.
They had lived like this all along—too accustomed to the stagnation.
But all troubles begin from the smallest things.
And if nothing is done, they only worsen.
Thus, the calamity destined to befall them had yet to even begin.
Iris naturally woke early at dawn.
‘Habits are terrifying things.’
Back in Valentine, she was always the earliest to rise.
The first to stand, the first to head straight to the training grounds for morning cultivation.
That discipline persisted even in Leontheim.
“Ah.”
Only after arriving at the training grounds did Iris become fully aware of herself.
Even though it was the day after the wedding.
‘How relentless.’
She crossed the training grounds, still holding onto the chill of the early morning air.
Honestly, she found her own stubborn persistence somewhat amusing.
Birds in the garden pecked at the seeds, tilting their heads as they watched her.
‘Yeah, I know.’
What’s so special about a sword that I’m still doing this?
‘Especially when I have no talent.’
Clinging to something that brings no reward only leads to misery.
Iris had lived through countless efforts that led nowhere.
‘More than anything, I already know.’
The Iris from the past understood that trying like this would ultimately be meaningless.
She could never feel the flow of magical energy. She was destined never to become a Sword Master.
‘So why is it?’
Iris let out a bitter smile, gently caressing her rapier.
‘…I don’t want to give up.’
Was this resolve or mere obsession?
After a long, sorrowful gaze at her blade, Iris sank down briefly where she stood.
She had already come all the way to the training grounds.
Given the circumstances, it was only natural to proceed with cultivation as usual.
But her troubled heart would not settle easily.
“I don’t want to…”
“If that’s the case, then don’t.”
A voice came from behind.
Iris startled and turned around.
There stood Cedric, his face rather tousled, and he was dressed in comfortable indoor robes.
Her cheeks flushed slightly at the glimpse of his loosely tied robe, and she quickly averted her gaze.
“You’re up early.”
Thinking about it, this was another change from before.
In the past, she would meet Cedric at the training grounds only from the next day onward.
Before she could properly look at him out of an inexplicable embarrassment, something warm touched her cheek.
Startled, she tensed her shoulders, but Cedric lifted the cup with both hands toward her.
It was warm black tea.
“How did you find the training grounds?”
Cedric, holding his own cup, casually sat down beside her.
Unlike Iris, who sat properly with her knees together on the floor, Cedric relaxed with a laid-back posture.
‘He keeps making me think strange things.’
There was a languid yet sly quality to him, stirring curious imaginations.
It was easy to see why people praised or envied him.
“I asked Steward Vincent yesterday.”
Iris lied naturally.
It wasn’t untrue, as that was how it had gone in the past.
Still, a subtle pang of guilt made her instinctively tilt her head to the side.
“I see.”
Cedric’s garnet eyes watched her sword.
‘Clean.’
Unlike a normal rapier, its tip curved upward like a hook.
The opal gem set at the center of the hilt resembled Iris’s own eyes.
She always kept it spotless—one could almost see the dust on the training ground floor reflected on its blade.
‘So different from mine.’
Cedric’s own sword was always dirty, drawing scolding from the steward.
I don’t want to…
Why had she said that?
‘You can see how dearly she treasures it, how much effort she puts in.’
Why did Iris wear such a sad expression?
“Milady.” “What?”
“Do you truly have no desire to wield the sword?”
The question pierced her chest as if probing without hesitation.
Yet Iris did not flinch.
‘That’s just Cedric’s way of speaking.’
“No.”
Iris answered honestly, briefly considering how to avoid the question but choosing sincerity instead.
Cedric always acted as if nothing interested him, yet his perception was sharp.
‘If I lied, he’d know immediately.’
Despite Iris’s inconsistent reply, Cedric did not press further.
Rising from his seat with his usual steady gaze, he asked,
“Lady, would you spar with me once?”
Iris took Cedric’s outstretched hand and stood.
Reading anything from his face was difficult.
“Is there a particular reason?”
Instead of answering, Cedric retrieved his sword, which he had left somewhere in the training grounds.
If no one told you, no one would imagine that blade belonged to the Duke of Leontheim.
It had been poorly maintained and left neglected.
Yet, in Cedric’s presence, even such a sword seemed like a legendary blade bearing a profound history.
He nonchalantly spun the sword once in his hand and said with a calm voice,
“I want to understand you better, my lady.”
Then, tilting the corner of his lips into a gentle smile, he asked,
“Will you grant me the chance to know you?”
The crimson light in his eyes held earnest sincerity.
Perhaps because of that,
Or perhaps for reasons even she did not know,
‘My heart races.’
It was a trembling that felt, somehow, almost frightening.
Iris gazed silently at Cedric.
Cedric showed a hint of concern.
“To be honest, I don’t like the sword.”
At his words, Iris nodded awkwardly.
“...I see.”
“That’s why I’m curious. What kind of sword does someone who loves their blade wield?”
Iris didn’t say she loved the sword herself.
But he spoke as if she did.
‘Do I really look like someone who loves the sword?’
Looking back, he often asked for sparring matches like this in the past.
“Milady, how about sparring with me today?”
Of course, Iris thought it was nothing more than a trivial game, without any deeper meaning.
Cedric probably had no grand intentions either.
It was only Iris who read more into it.
“No. I’m tired today.”
So, she always refused.
Her refusals were stubborn to the point of seeming strange.
Among knights, sparring was a common occurrence.
But Iris truly did not want to spar with Cedric.
“I’m afraid.”
It wasn’t the sparring itself that scared her.
“I’m afraid Cedric... might change.”
Crossing blades was entirely different from watching with the eyes.
Cedric would inevitably come to know her true skill level.
Just like her father, her older brother, and Liliana had.
“He’ll find out again.”
How lacking and pathetic she really was.
“It was always like this.”
Once the family learned the truth beneath, they all turned their backs on her.
Despised her, dismissed her, rejected her.
They even slandered her other efforts.
Iris closed her eyes tightly.
Without realizing it, she kept getting pulled back to that time.
“I don’t want to think about anything.”
No matter how much she tried, nothing would change; it would only cause pain.
But even that was beyond her control.
The crushing weight of that miserable memory surged vividly, pressing down on her whole body.
At some point, she was dragged back again, forced to become the helpless, scarred child she once was.
From behind, a clear, pure voice scratched at her ears like a blade.
“Ahh-ya!”
Young Iris was engulfed by strange anxiety. She stopped her training and looked back at Liliana.
Liliana was excitedly running to their father.
Chapter 15