I Became the Substitute for the Runaway Heroine - Chapter 78

“May I ask a favor of you?”

The Grand Dowager gestured toward Odette, offering her arm. Odette stepped forward cautiously to support her, and only then did the elderly woman continue her walk.

“I heard you told them you would inform the Princess of Gawain’s… mistakes.”

“Yes, Madam. Please don’t worry about that. I will meet Her Highness and convince her that this marriage simply cannot happen.”

“Thank you, truly. If he were to actually get engaged to the Princess, it would not be easy to depose Gawain.”

So, she has made her decision, Odette thought. It was the right move for the sake of Belmonte.

“You must have heard of the Key of Obelon.”

Since arriving in the South, the story of Obelon was all Odette had heard.

“Yes, Madam,” Odette nodded obediently, and the Grand Dowager came to a halt.

A warm breeze swept through the garden, shaking the roses and sending petals of red, pink, yellow, and white fluttering through the air. It was a sight so beautiful it could draw a gasp from anyone, but the Grand Dowager’s expression was so somber that Odette lowered her gaze.

“On the day the Duchy fell, the previous head of the family commanded the Divine Beast to protect Obelon. The Beast killed everyone who tried to enter and locked the gates himself. I possess the Key of Obelon, yet I cannot enter.”

The Grand Dowager was now staring at the statue of the Great Horned Deer.

“Only someone who can subdue and command the Divine Beast can enter Obelon. My grandson is the one who possesses that qualification.”

The Sword of Obelon. A sacred relic known as the ‘Hero’s Sword’ because it was said there was nothing it could not cut. For generations, no master of the sword had been born, leaving Belmonte with no choice but to kneel before the Imperial Army.

But finally, the master of the Hero’s Sword had been born.

Caesar Maise. The only direct bloodline of Belmonte had returned alive from the war. It should have been a cause for great celebration, yet the Grand Dowager wore a bitter smile.

“But my grandson was raised as an Imperial. He is arrogant and stubborn.”

“…”

“He seems to have no intention of restoring the glory of Belmonte. Wouldn’t giving the Hero’s Sword to such a man be… excessive?”

Why are you asking me? I’m just a passing guest, Odette thought. She blinked under the Grand Dowager’s gaze before hesitatingly speaking.

“If you truly wish for my opinion… I will venture to speak.”

Odette took a breath and continued. “I have heard that the Saint’s Staff and the Hero’s Sword choose their own masters.”

“So, you are saying the decision is not mine to make?”

“With my limited knowledge, yes. The timing might be delayed, but eventually, the Hero’s Sword will find its way to its master, one way or another.”

Just as the Saint’s Staff had found its way into Odette’s hands. Until a few months ago, she never dreamed she would be the ‘Master of the Saint’s Staff.’ But at some point, she began to glimpse the consciousness of others through dreams and started having prophetic visions. In those dreams, the Staff had asserted its presence, calling out to her.

Fate. It was likely fate.

“I see.”

The Grand Dowager fell into deep thought, staring at the deer statue. For a split second, a flash of deep sorrow crossed her face before vanishing. Though she could hide her expression, she could not mask the coldness in her voice as she spoke.

“If anything should happen to me, will you tell ‘him’ that it is beneath that statue?”

It? There was no way the Hero’s Sword was buried under a statue. The sword was said to be in the heart of Obelon, the Southern Holy Land.

Then she must mean the Key of Obelon.

Odette asked, looking bewildered, “Why are you telling me this? I’ll be leaving soon.”

“One never knows where a connection might lead. Or perhaps… should I call it destiny?”

Odette swallowed hard. “What kind of destiny?”

“It is said that when the three sacred relics scattered across the continent gather in one place, a hero who will lead the next generation shall be born.”

The Grand Dowager took Odette’s hand and wrapped hers around it warmly.

“I beg of you.”

Odette couldn’t bring herself to ask what she was begging for. She had a feeling the person the Grand Dowager was entrusting to her was Caesar.

But that couldn’t be right.

“Vera! Slow down! You’ll fall if you keep that up.”

On her way back from the meeting, Odette stopped as she spotted Vera running through the garden.

“Saintess, I’m a fast runner!”

“Still, be careful! Look where you’re going!”

Vera and Jaina disappeared quickly behind the shrubs. Emma, chasing after them, approached Odette while panting for breath.

“Phew, once the Baroness told them they could pick flowers, they started running like wild things. I suppose since they’re children, they heal from their wounds quickly.”

“I don’t think so,” Odette shook her head gently.

How can anyone ‘quickly’ get over losing their mother? Losing a mother was like having a giant hole ripped into your chest. That hole couldn’t be filled by anything else. It hurt—it hurt so much. You beat your chest and pour out tears until you simply get used to living with the scar. The wound itself never truly goes away.

“By the way, what did you talk about with the Grand Dowager?”

“Hmm?”

That she’s Caesar’s grandmother.

She couldn’t say that. How did we manage to flee all the way here, of all places? If she dwelled on it, she’d only get goosebumps. Caesar wouldn’t visit his maternal family anyway, and Helena had promised to let her know if there was any word of him coming. Helena hadn’t even asked why she was so curious about his visits.

“She just seemed to have a lot of worries.”

“I heard the Marquis is a profligate who’s gambling the family fortune away. Everyone is whispering about how much he’s changed.”

“…The Grand Dowager likely has a plan.”

When the elderly woman held her hand and said, “I beg of you,” she looked like someone who had made a monumental decision. Odette’s heart felt heavy, wondering if that resolution might threaten the Grand Dowager’s safety. But what could she, a mere outsider, do?

Though, she felt she could at least ensure the engagement between Marquis Belmonte and Trisha fell through.

No! I must make sure it does.

As Odette stood lost in thought, Emma spoke up.

“Oh, right! I’ve finished the parasol using the staff.”

“Oh, really?”

“I’ll show you now.”

The parasol, made by covering the Saint’s Staff with fabric and lace, looked remarkably convincing. The staff was wrapped in ribbon, and even the handle was perfectly disguised; it was unrecognizable. By attaching rings and wire ribs to the staff and covering it with cloth, it became a beautiful parasol.

“Wow, no one would ever guess this is the Saint’s Staff.”

“Right? You can carry it around without any worries now.”

“Yeah.”

Just then, Jacques approached with long strides, having returned from gathering information outside.

“Lady Odette, may I speak with you alone for a moment?”

Once Emma took the hint and stepped away, Jacques lowered his voice.

“I’ve discovered that the House of Belmonte is Caesar Maise’s maternal family.”

And you call yourself a first-class informant? Odette thought. Wasn’t he supposed to gather info faster than anyone? How could he only find this out now? He might as well have found out tomorrow—and they were leaving tomorrow.

Odette glared at him. “I thought it was going to be something new. Is that all?”

“Wh-did you already know?” Jacques’s eyes widened, clearly not expecting her to be aware.

“Yes.”

“If you knew, why aren’t we running away?” Jacques looked at her with terrified eyes.

Admittedly, if they were caught by Caesar, Jacques would be in just as much trouble as Odette. However, Odette shook her head as if that would never happen.

“I’ve been told Caesar doesn’t visit his maternal home. He’s likely reached the capital by now.”

The Grand Dowager seemed to have no intention of helping Caesar. Caesar must be well aware of that by now. Realizing he could only trust his own abilities and his subordinates, wouldn’t he be accelerating his revenge?

Which means he won’t be coming here.

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