STVC 07

Chapter 07

“Ah, yes.”

I mostly read genre novels secretly in my room, while the rest of the books I read in the library.

Since Dein had mentioned it, they were probably only referring to the regular books.

That was a relief.

I enjoy reading, but I’m not fond of stiff theoretical texts.

The duke’s library contained countless textbooks on economics, administration, military science, and the like, but even a brief glance gave me the impression: Ah, I could fall asleep within five seconds of reading this.

However, theoretical books about magic were different.

They talked about mana, dragons, elves, wizards—almost like a fantasy novel.

Of course, I didn’t read books titled The Principles of Magic, but rather ones like The History of Magic.

“Then I’ll ask you one question. Mana exists everywhere, even if you can’t see it. But it isn’t evenly distributed. Why is that?”

“Um… that’s because of mana affinity.”

I had read this in a book called The Correlation Between Magic and Spirit Arts.

Despite its stiff title, it was actually a biography of a mage.

I had left it on the side of my bed just by looking at the title.

It was meant as a bedtime read for nights I couldn’t sleep. But one sleepless night, I opened it—and unexpectedly found it so interesting that I stayed up all night!

The story began with a question: What distinguishes those who can become mages from those who cannot, in terms of affinity with nature? It followed Mr. Irregler, a third-circle mage, on his adventures!

It was gentle, yet full of clear philosophy and heartfelt moments.

Mr. Irregler hits the limits of his talent and falls into despair, then embarks on a journey to confront the world. Between his adventures, he explains his realizations and magic in an easily understandable way.

It felt almost like reading a self-development book.

“Yes. Mana affinity isn’t limited to humans. Those who can’t sense mana wouldn’t know, but there’s a high concentration of it around this red liquid. That’s your mistake, Bern.”

“I don’t know anything! I can’t even see mana!”

“I know. That’s why you made the mistake of putting Hargren fruits in with Laifroof.”

“You mean you did put Hargren in?!”

Dein’s voice erupted in shock and anger.

Hargren fruit? That was a word I’d never heard before, unlike Laifroof.

“Hargren fruit alone is a poison that causes headaches and fever. You added it to recreate the smell of blood, but at the same time, part of you probably hoped Sernia would get poisoned by it.”

“Ah… no, it wasn’t that. Hargren…”

Ah, so it was a poisonous fruit.

I wouldn’t have known; I’d only seen the plants in the greenhouse and garden.

At the duke’s remark, the nanny turned noticeably pale.

“But when you mix Hargren with Laifroof, it changes. It’s no longer a poison—it becomes a medicine.”

“Medicine?”

“A potion that slightly boosts mana. The increase is so subtle that mages rarely use it, but sometimes commoners use it to regain energy.”

Wow. The duke really knows a lot.

Magic, curses, and now even poison and herbs—your knowledge rivals a mage’s.

I gawked in admiration at this new side of the duke.

“Close your mouth. Dust will get in.”

“Yes, sir!”

The duke continued casually.

“Duke, that’s a wild assumption. Even if everything you said is true, it doesn’t prove I’m the culprit.”

“Why do you think I gathered everyone here? Because the culprit must return to the scene.”

Could it be the duke knew too? The cliché that the culprit always comes back to the scene!

The nanny tried to make an excuse, but he didn’t listen.

He passed by her without a second glance, heading straight for the wardrobe.

Not the dress room, but the closet where my favorite clothes and pajamas were kept, which he flung open.

Clatter.

Inside were red gloves and an apron.

The initials on the apron proved it belonged to the nanny.

“The maid who cleans the room arrived earlier than expected.”

“It’s a frame! The apron was stolen a few days ago, and I was looking for it! Someone is trying to frame me!”

The nanny’s acting was incredible.

Totally Oscar-worthy! Now, tears welling in her eyes, she screamed that she was being framed, and Dein glanced at Bern with a look of pity, as if unsure whether to trust her.

“A frame, Bern. Your time to confess is almost up.”

“……”

The duke’s expression was unwavering.

He was so resolute that it was almost terrifying.

Indeed, the apron could have been taken by someone else, just as the nanny claimed. But the duke urging her to confess—does that mean there’s still undeniable evidence?

The nanny’s mask began to crack.

She seemed to be questioning whether she had made a mistake that even she hadn’t realized.

Her previously brazen, indignant expression faltered.

Finally, she bit her lower lip and muttered softly.

“…Why.”

“What did you say?”

When Dein approached, she stepped back and shouted.

“Yes! I did it! I tried to curse Sernia! But why didn’t it work? I followed the instructions the mage gave me exactly—why!”

The nanny raged, frustrated that her curse hadn’t taken effect.

As she tore at her hair and collapsed, the duke clicked his tongue sharply.

“A curse requires a price. You didn’t pay any, so the curse didn’t work.”

“The price… that liquid and the doll were supposed to be enough, you lousy mage!”

“You should be grateful to the mage who taught you poorly. Had you paid the price, you would now be in the same state as that doll.”

“Th-That…”

The nanny buried her face in her skirt and sobbed.

The duke simply drew his sword with a dry motion.

The blade looked sharp enough to slice even solid metal like tofu.

No matter how I look at it… that’s the one, right? Decapitation, that’s the one.

I urgently grabbed the duke’s waist.

“Duke.”

“What is it?”

His green eyes, as sharp as his silver blade, fixed on me.

I hesitated for a moment when our eyes met, but I didn’t back down.

“Please let me punish the nanny.”

“Noble curses are a grave offense.”

The duke spoke as if he could behead her at any moment.

The nanny shivered and cowered at his intimidation.

“It was just an attempt. And before punishing her, I want to hear her reasons.”

“Speak.”

He agreed to listen to her explanation.

The nanny calmed herself and spoke with effort.

“If only Sernia hadn’t existed, my child could have had that position! It was originally my child’s spot! But Sernia took it!”

“Your child?”

“Mrs. Bern.”

I already knew she was married into a viscount’s family.

But she had a child. Yet she had never returned to her family since the twins were born. If she had a child, she would have taken leave to see them.

Dein looked at her with a hint of understanding.

“I couldn’t take a break to pay for the expensive medicine from my poor family. My child was very ill from birth, so I had to keep working. The duchess, knowing my situation, allowed me to bring my child to be raised here, but the duke said he couldn’t manage four children alone, so it was denied.”

“Mrs. Bern, that’s not Sernia’s fault.”

“If Sernia hadn’t existed, my child could have been raised in the duke’s house, in my arms! That child… sniff… probably doesn’t even know my face.”

As the nanny wept, Dein calmly intervened.

So that’s how it was.

The truth was simple. The reason was not grandiose, but I understood her love for her child.

It’s a little bittersweet.

The nanny knew I had lost my parents. Yet she blamed me entirely for her child growing up alone in the viscount’s house without knowing their mother’s face. Humans always rationalize things in ways that favor themselves.

No one really did anything wrong, but she needed someone to resent.

I vaguely realized why the curse incident happened four years later.

Those four years were the time the nanny needed to figure out the proper method for the curse. She had collected my hair and earrings four years ago to curse me but hadn’t yet found the method. Since curse methods aren’t easily discovered without a mage, perhaps in the original story, Sernia noticed something before the nanny could. The difference in the nanny’s attitude toward the twins versus me hinted at this.

I never noticed it at all.

Perhaps the original Sernia, living in the duke’s house, was far more sensitive and cautious than I realized, able to notice the subtle feelings the nanny directed toward her. That’s why she might have searched the nanny’s room before the curse method was found.

I watched the nanny cry, unable to organize the unknown events of the novel.

“Mrs. Bern, please stand up.”

For the first time, I called her by name.

She flinched and cautiously rose.

“Duke, please grant me the right to punish Mrs. Bern.”

“…Very well.”

The duke’s expression seemed slightly displeased but he accepted without difficulty.

I smiled faintly in gratitude and walked toward Mrs. Bern.

“Mrs. Bern, you are hereby dismissed. I will keep today’s incident a secret, but you are forbidden from working in a noble household. Return to the viscount’s house. Do not appear in society; live there. Forever. Take care of your beloved child.”

My calm voice echoed through the room.

Everyone’s gaze turned to me, probably surprised by the punishment I gave.

Dein looked at me with pride, and the duke gave a slight shake of his head and sighed.

Mrs. Bern knelt, tears streaming down her face.

“Sniff… I’m sorry, miss, I’m sorry.”

I neither comforted nor pushed her away. I simply waited until she calmed down.

I wasn’t angry. She had tried to curse me but caused no direct harm. Moreover, I could vaguely understand her motivation—trying to protect her child—even if what she did was wrong.

And I learned something important.

A narrative trick. You can’t take a novel at face value.

Even the same situation can be completely different depending on whose perspective the story is told from.

It feels like discovering a hidden story.

The matter was quickly resolved.

The nanny, Mrs. Bern, packed her things and left the duke’s house, while the staff efficiently tidied up my room.

“This room is now closed.”