The Fake Madam Disappeared
Vol. 1 - Ch. 87

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Chapter 87 

“It’s true.”

The maid trembled.

“I heard someone calling from inside, so I went in... and Madam was awake.”

“Then why is she like that now?”“I... I don’t know.”

The maid looked as if she might burst into tears at any moment as she gave her account. She had heard someone calling from the room and entered to find Daphne sitting up, fully conscious. When Madam told her to fetch someone, anyone, she had left the room and happened to run into Benjamin.

After delivering the message to Benjamin, he had hurried off to fetch Edmund. But by the time they returned to the room together, they found Daphne with her eyes tightly shut again, just as she had always been.

“I swear she was awake.”

The maid’s hands trembled under Edmund’s icy stare.

“Your Excellency, I have no reason to lie.”“Then how could someone who spoke just minutes ago fall unconscious again so suddenly?”“I... I don’t know…”“What’s going on?”

A presence at the doorway made them turn their heads. The woman was standing there, having slipped through the door left ajar.

“I heard a commotion…”“Saintess.”

Edmund immediately approached her.

“Daphne woke up but then lost consciousness again.”“Ah.”

The woman nodded, as if she understood exactly why.

“That’s to be expected. Her condition was very poor. It means she’s gradually recovering.”

Edmund turned to look at Daphne again. She was still pale, her heartbeat faint and slow. But for now, there was nothing he could do but wait.

“...Benjamin, call the others.”

— — — 

“What’s the situation?”

Those who had been briefed by Benjamin now looked at Edmund, tense with anticipation.

“No further complications yet.”“Then... is she really the Saintess?”“Yes.”

It was shocking enough that a Saintess had appeared out of nowhere but even more surreal was that this Saintess had healed their Madam.

“Then why hasn’t the contents of the oracle been announced?”

The exact message of the oracle was unknown, but it would have at least included a description of the Saintess.

Divine power had the capacity to revive even the dead. Because of this, Saintesses were often exploited the most. When an oracle descended, the temple would go into a frenzy, desperate to find the Saintess, who could be anywhere in any condition.

Normally, the oracle’s message would be made public, and whoever brought the Saintess forward would be rewarded handsomely. But this time, that hadn't happened.

According to the intel Johann had obtained, the oracle had come down at least a month ago. Rumors about the Saintess had only started spreading a week ago. Plenty of time had passed for the temple to release the oracle.

“It seems there’s been a schism within the temple.”

To verify the truth about the oracle, Johann had unintentionally dug deep into the temple’s inner workings.

“We suspect a coup led by the High Priest.”“He’s held power for decades, of course he wouldn’t give it up to someone who appeared out of nowhere.”

Alec clicked his tongue. Though the High Priest possessed immense divine power, he was notoriously greedy. A man like that would never share the power he believed was his by right.

“What about the Emperor?”

The Emperor had caught on to Edmund’s departure to the north and had repeatedly dispatched royal knights. But as winter set in, snowstorms rendered the region inaccessible. The storms were so severe that not even seasoned traders could make it through. At this time of year, the mansion was essentially cut off from the outside world.

“They kept trying, but withdrew last night.”

Even those born and raised in the north avoided going out in this weather. For the capital’s knights, who had likely never experienced such cold, it was an impossible mission from the start.

“They didn’t find another route. They’ve returned to the palace.”

After a brief pause, Edmund asked, “Was it by imperial order?”

Johann hesitated, then opened the report he’d been holding. It was a detail he had nearly missed.

“...No. The order came from Marquis Bled.”

Sergei was tightening his grip on the imperial court. He had already extended his reach far enough to command the royal knights. The real problem was that Sergei’s ambitions didn’t stop at gaining power. There was something else, something hidden behind it all.

“Benjamin.”

As the others dispersed, Edmund called him back.

“Is there something you need?”“Keep an eye on the woman.”“Pardon?”

Benjamin instinctively questioned him, but then quickly realized Edmund was referring to the Saintess. Suspicion flickered in his eyes.

“Is something wrong with her?”

She had been verified as the Saintess. She had healed Madam. There was no reason to doubt her.

“She claimed to have crossed the northern lands to survive. But she has no signs of frostbite on her hands or feet.”

Edmund had been watching her closely. Frostbite was practically inevitable for anyone who crossed the north. Even the locals bore the scars of it. And the calluses on her hands weren’t from hard labor.

“Even if she is the real Saintess, she didn’t approach us with pure intentions.”“...I was careless.”

Blinded by the hope of saving their Madam, Benjamin had failed to notice those smaller details.

“Stay by her side. Don’t let her out of your sight.”“Yes, understood.”

After Benjamin left, Edmund turned back to his documents. But the words swam before his eyes, and with a grimace, he set the papers down.

There was something about the Saintess that felt oddly familiar. Edmund searched his memory, but instead of answers, a sharp headache struck. With a faint groan, he urgently lit a cigarette. As smoke curled in the air, the pain slowly began to subside.

Four days. Just four more days.

Edmund inhaled deeply, trying to suppress the inexplicable unease churning inside him.

* * *

Damian’s days followed the same routine.

“That’s all for today’s lesson. Well done, Young Lord.”

Damian gave a small nod and rose from his seat. There was a bit of time before his next lesson, so Edmund had instructed him to spar with Vent.

“...What am I looking at right now?”

While walking down the corridor with Vent, Damian suddenly stopped. There was Benjamin and the Saintess. Benjamin seemed to be giving her a tour of the mansion. Strangely, the two looked quite familiar with each other for people who had only just met.

“Ah, the steward is giving her a tour.”“At her request?”“No, it was by His Excellency’s order.”

His father?

Damian frowned. An unpleasant feeling clung to him like oil. He turned his head sharply.

“Vent, let’s spar.”“Ah! I completely forgot the important errand the steward asked me to run!”

Vent, quick to catch on to Damian’s mood, bolted away at full speed. Left standing alone, Damian let out a dry chuckle, then turned to head back on his own, only to run into Baroness Nouvelle.

“Oh, Young Lord.”

A bright smile lit her face.

“Good news?”“My Madam’s condition has greatly improved.”

Baroness Nouvelle had just come from Daphne’s room and was on her way to report to Edmund when she encountered Damian. She couldn’t help but share the news.

“Her complexion has returned. At this rate, she may wake up very soon.”

The Saintess’s power was astounding. Without magic stones, Daphne should have been on the brink of death but in just one day, she had shown dramatic improvement.

“Oh dear, I’ve kept you too long. I’ll be off, Young Lord.”“...Alright.”

Damian only nodded after the baroness had passed. He stared into the air, lost in thought.

Mother is going to wake up?

Suddenly, a strange emotion surged within him. It was neither joy nor anger, just something indescribable. Feeling an odd tightness in his chest, Damian stepped outside with only a coat thrown on.

Though he had left the mansion, there was nowhere to go. Under a barren tree that barely blocked the snow, Damian stared up at the falling flakes. The bone-deep cold made his thoughts blur.

“Young Lord?”

A voice from behind made him turn.

“Summer.”“You’re back!”

Summer set down the shovel she was holding and walked over with a bright smile. 

The two embraced lightly, and Summer whispered, “Is Madam doing better?”

Though she now worked as a gardener, Summer had once been a blacksmith for the Black Knights and was still connected enough to know what was happening at the estate. Damian nodded.

“She’s recovering.”

“Thank goodness.”

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