The Villainess's Secret Bedroom Service
Chapter 45: Decision To Trust

Chapter 45: Decision To Trust

"Since when do you serve tea here, and where did you acquire a tray?"

Felix’s unexpectedly loud inquiry jolted Laith from her silent reverie. She quickly glanced toward the opposite end of the hallway before pivoting her entire body to face him. Her voice resumed its usual quiet pitch as she inquired,

"What are your thoughts on her?"

Felix furrowed his brows in confusion.

"Her? Who do you mean?"

The girl let out an irritated sigh and rubbed her forehead underneath the black hood.

"Rosalie Ashter. Can we truly trust her?"

Uncertainty clouded Felix’s expression, and he could only offer a shrug in response.

"I wish I could provide you with a reassuring answer, but thus far, she appears relatively harmless. What sparked this sudden curiosity anyway?"

Laith discreetly pressed her gloved hand against the inner pocket of her dark cloak, where she had hidden the note. Opting to evade the question, she hoped that time would unfold the answers she sought without the need for an immediate explanation.

***

"So you wish for me to personally inspect Lord Ashter’s trading carriage?"

Damien regarded Laith with an inquisitive gaze, his dark eyebrows slightly raised, while absently tapping a golden fountain pen on the polished surface of his expansive wooden desk. Laith nodded in response, avoiding verbalizing her reasons, which clearly left both Felix and Damien somewhat unsatisfied. The duke reclined in his chair, crossing his powerful arms before his chest.

"Why this sudden change? You mentioned earlier that his trading reports were satisfactory. What has prompted this shift in your perspective?"

Laith hesitated, grappling with the realization that her decision to trust Rosalie’s written message was somewhat irrational and impulsive. Nonetheless, she found herself placing her faith in it. Her dedication to assisting Grand Duke Dio in his investigations compelled her, despite the pain of suspecting Lady Ashter’s own brother. Despite their relentless efforts, Raphael Ashter had managed to elude their grasp. Therefore, even if it seemed improbable for Rosalie to betray her own family, Laith had decided to rely on her lead.

Even if it meant deceiving her own savior.

"I... overheard some courtesans discussing Raphael Ashter’s intentions to transport a sizable batch of pelts this time. Furthermore..."

She impulsively chose to reiterate the contents of Rosalie’s note, continuing her explanation,

"After careful consideration, I have concluded that Raphael is the only individual granted unrestricted access to the trading gate due to his involvement in the export of luxury furs and leather. Consequently, it is logical to intensify our suspicions regarding him."

The duke assessed Laith’s behavior with a long, intense stare before finally, closing his eyes, and agreeing to her offer with a slow nod.

"Very well then. Felix,"

He turned his gaze to his aide and issued a firm directive,

"Dispatch a message to Sir Christian, instructing him to assemble a specialized raiding team. Ensure utmost secrecy, with no disclosure to either the nobility or Imperial Council. The team shall be stationed at the trading gate on the day of Lord Ashter’s departure. Laith and I will join them at that time."

"Yes, Your Grace."

Felix responded with a brief bow before swiftly departing, leaving Laith and Damien alone in the room, enveloped by an uncomfortable silence. While the duke nonchalantly returned to attending to his paperwork, Laith couldn’t shake off her restlessness. She longed to inquire about Damien’s fiancée, yet the words remained trapped within her mouth.

Conflicted and confused, it was the first time she experienced such turmoil.

’Raphael Ashter is perceived in high society as a caring and doting brother... Why would she betray him so readily? Why hasn’t His Grace ever tasked me with investigating that girl? I can only hope my decision to trust her wasn’t a mistake.’

***

Rosalie took a deep breath, savoring the crisp, refreshing autumn air as it gracefully filled her lungs. The scarce rays of sunlight caressed her exposed skin through the thick canopy of tree branches, leaving a pleasant sense of fading warmth. Summer had bid its farewell, making way for September to gently paint the thriving flora with warm, fiery hues of yellow and red.

Seated beneath the majestic willow tree, Rosalie immersed herself in the gratifying task of constructing miniature wooden birdhouses and feeders. This labor of love was intended to assist the small wild animals in braving the impending challenges of cold weather. She had observed the harmonious coexistence of wildlife and the Grand Duke’s mansion during her leisurely strolls. The proximity to the forest seemed to dissolve artificial boundaries, welcoming the creatures into the captivating splendor of Damien’s gardens, where they found solace, formed new families, and thrived.

Considering the Capital of Rische’s reputation for its harsh weather during the cold seasons, and with the imminent arrival of the first rainy period, Rosalie felt a warm-hearted determination to aid the little creatures in need. Her stay at the duke’s estate left her with ample time, and this act of kindness seemed like a worthy endeavor.

’Today is the day Raphael sets off for the trading gate. Richard told me that Damien had left the mansion at night. I wonder if Laith believed me and they are planning to raid his equipage...’

Lost in her contemplations and the potential outcomes of her efforts, Rosalie failed to notice that there were now four individuals under the willow tree instead of three.

"My Lady?"

Rosalie finally raised her head upon hearing Aurora’s gentle voice calling her, and her gaze shifted towards one of the maids who had appeared seemingly out of thin air, holding a white envelope in her tanned hands.

"Pardon me, My Lady, but a letter was delivered to the mansion just now, and it is addressed to you."

Lady Ashter arched her thin eyebrows in bewilderment as she received the envelope, completely taken aback by this unexpected occurrence. Yet, there was no mistaking it – the white sealed paper bore the elegant penmanship of her name, "Lady Rosalie Ashter," carefully written in golden ink, glistening with an air of intrigue.

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