IDLYA 6

chapter 6

However, the reason Niveia could speak so confidently was because she was certain that Marquis Solen would not detain her.

After all, he at least maintained the outward appearance of a man with a conscience.

The public image of Marquis Solen—upright and righteous.

That wasn’t entirely false.

You could tell just by the fact that he had continued sending money for over ten years, even to a daughter he wanted to erase from his life.

Which meant, at the same time, he was also a hypocrite.

Just look at how he buried his past of ignoring and despising Niveia, only to pour all his affection into a new daughter.

Someone like you would never detain me—even if I am still your daughter. You hypocritical man.

“So why do you think I came all this way? If you grant me a few requests, I can consider this debt settled.”

“…Let’s hear it.”

“First, allow me to stay in this house. About two weeks should suffice. The annex should still be empty, right? I’d like to stay there. And don’t interfere with my comings and goings.”

“Fine.”

“Second, I’ll be receiving all possible support under the Solen family name. You’ll arrange a pass for me to enter the imperial palace, and I’ll also need to purchase some luxuries.”

She said she wouldn’t collect the debt—not that she would spend frugally.

Niveia intended to use the Solen name as a stepping stone to meet Joachim XII.

If it was necessary for marrying him, she was prepared to sell not just the Solen name, but its territory and even its mines.

In fact, she fully intended to.

Unaware of her true intentions, Marquis Solen seemed to think this was a fairly reasonable deal if it cleared his debt.

His noticeably brightened expression revealed his thoughts clearly.

“Anything else?”

“That girl from earlier. She was pretty.”

At the sudden change in topic, the Marquis’s face twisted in irritation.

“Do not dare take interest in my daughter.”

“She’s my sister, isn’t she? Even if she’s illegitimate.”

“And yet you still dare speak like that, when your own mother was a mere maid?”

“Is that my fault? Or the fault of a certain foolish man who couldn’t resist a bit of temptation?”

It was almost amusing how quickly the Marquis became emotional the moment his daughter was mentioned.

A man who understood one thing but not another.

For the head of such a great house to be this foolish—Solen’s future was obvious.

At the same time, Niveia felt a hollow emptiness.

I am your daughter too… yet when you say ‘my daughter,’ you don’t mean me.

Watching his flushed face, she turned her gaze toward the window.

Beyond it lay the same garden where she had met him and the girl earlier.

People had changed—but the garden, meticulously maintained, remained the same.

Somehow, that was disappointing.

Turning back to him, she asked:

“She looked about ten. When are you planning her debut?”

“Do I need to tell you twice not to take an interest in her?”

“Am I in a position to be ordered around? Don’t make me repeat myself.”

There was a limit to how much foolishness she could tolerate.

As Niveia’s brows slightly furrowed, the Marquis finally seemed to recall the amount written on the invoice.

“…She debuted last winter. Is that enough?”

“That’s good. I was planning to take her to an imperial palace party. With the delegation here, the palace halls should be open every day.”

“Why would you go to a palace party?”

“You don’t need to know. I promise I won’t do anything harmful to her. I quite like children.”

Besides, one victim of someone else’s sins was already enough.

Picking up the invoice from his desk, Niveia’s touch was cold and devoid of emotion.

“Then I’ll see you again if there’s business.”

With the same elegant bow she had shown before, she left the Marquis’s office.

Since the Emperor of Winfried was staying at Thierry Palace, Niveia had much to prepare in order to enter the imperial palace.

First, she needed to visit a dressmaker. Then a jeweler.

Time was short if she wanted to be ready quickly.

“My goodness! Niveia! Is that really you? I was so shocked when I heard you’d returned… If you came, you should’ve come to your mother first! Nia! I’m talking to you—where are you going?!”

In other words, she had no time to deal with a suddenly affectionate mother.

“You ungrateful brat! Now even you ignore me?! It’s not enough that your father abandoned me—now my own daughter too…!”

Hypocrites were bad enough—but the shameless were worse.

She had guessed that the Marchioness’s treatment would have worsened after the illegitimate child was brought in—but seeing her now, she looked even more pitiful.

Older, more worn-down than ten years ago.

Only the gaudy jewelry she wore—perhaps to patch together her shattered pride—still sparkled.

She would struggle like that until she destroyed herself.

That future was obvious.

And Niveia bore no responsibility for it.

She resumed walking toward the annex.

Behind her, the Marchioness continued shouting insults—but Niveia paid no attention.

A noisy summer cicada—or the Marchioness.

To her, there was little difference.

After concluding her deal with Marquis Solen, the first place Niveia headed to was the most famous dress shop in the capital—Madame Laurent’s boutique.

There, she practically swept through the store buying clothes.

“From here to there—I’ll take everything.”

She even used that cliché line.

Going to the imperial palace in modest attire would be worse than not going at all.

Of course, buying extravagant dresses was the right choice—but even so, Niveia was clearly overspending.

Even Madame Laurent herself asked in surprise:

“Miss Solen… would you like these as well? They’re quite outdated…”

“That’s fine. I’ll take everything. Send the bill to the Solen household.”

“My, how generous. Very well.”

Pleased with her boldness, Madame Laurent covered her mouth as she laughed.

Though known for her pride, she was now utterly deferential to Niveia, who was spending enough to buy an entire estate in a single day.

Something unimaginable in the past.

Back then, Niveia had lived on minimal funds, maintaining only the barest level of dignity.

It was all outdated clothes anyway.

Looking at the old-fashioned dresses, she thought coldly.

Simple designs with no frills, emphasizing the body line—just like the ones she used to wear in Eustache.

Because those were the only dresses Solen ever sent her.

At the time, she hadn’t even considered buying new clothes to follow trends.

She was already looked down on for her origins—if she were also seen as wasteful, it would only disgrace the family.

Thinking back now, it was laughable.

No matter how modest she lived or how hard she tried not to stand out, they had already treated her as a thorn in their side.

There was no need for that anymore.

After signing the bill, Niveia left the boutique.

Next stop: the jeweler.

When Valer returned to the ducal residence, he doubted his ears.

“Niveia… signed the engagement termination papers?”

“As you see, Your Grace. She packed her belongings and left during the day.”

Valer stared at the document in disbelief.

He read it again and again.

There it was—Niveia Solen, written in elegant, slightly slanted handwriting, no different from any noble lady’s.

Impossible.

Earlier, Valer had left work early to return home.

Even if “early” meant after sunset—it was still much earlier than his usual near-midnight return.

He had planned to offer her tea.

She always smiled so brightly just at the sight of him—he had foolishly assumed that if he apologized first, she would quickly forgive him.

In truth, more than guilt, he simply wanted to get rid of this uncomfortable feeling as soon as possible.

But what awaited him at the estate was not Niveia—

Only a single sheet of paper.

The termination document.

“…Ha.”

After a long silence, a hollow laugh escaped him.

The paper slipped from his hand onto the desk.

Smiling in disbelief, he said:

“Steward. Both you and I are being deceived. There’s no way Niveia would suddenly break off the engagement. For ten years, no matter how many times I told her to leave, she clung on persistently. She must be plotting something.”

There was even a strange certainty in his dark eyes.

From the beginning, he hadn’t believed the document was real.

For ten years, she had been a woman who spoke of love no matter how coldly he treated her.

And now she suddenly breaks the engagement? Leaves the estate?

Impossible—no one in their right mind would do that.

He didn’t know what she was planning—but it wouldn’t work.

Valer’s handsome face twisted in irritation as he strode forward.