It Turned Out She Wasn't a Favored Concubine - Episode 43

The days at the Edelheit estate were the most peaceful I’d experienced since entering Arne’s body.

First and foremost, I loved that Erich couldn’t drop by whenever he pleased. Back at the Arlin Palace, I had to endure daily announcements of the Emperor’s arrival. He came without fail—so much so that if he didn’t show up early in the morning, I’d find myself anxiously waiting for him. And it wasn’t rare for him to visit twice in one day.

That kind of unwanted anticipation was incredibly stressful.

Ever since that bloody day, the maids at Arlin Palace had come to fear his visits. Every time I faced Erich, I felt a chill from the invisible scent of blood.

Even though I told myself logically that everything was fine, I couldn’t fully control my emotions. His beautiful smile only deepened my fear. But here, at least, I was free from that terror.

I relished the freedom I had belatedly realized. Not in the sense that I behaved recklessly like Arne once did in the estate. Rather, at Edelheit, I could escape Arne’s shadow. The servants, unfamiliar with Arne’s notorious reputation, treated me like an ordinary young lady. Not as the ill-tempered Arne, but as the visiting sister of the head of the household. No one turned pale at the sight of me, nor did they react with surprise or confusion at my normal behavior.

I could simply be myself.

It was ironic, really. That I felt least influenced by Arne in the very estate where she was born and raised.

Didn’t Louis tell me to treat this like a vacation? I had scoffed at the idea when he first said it, but now this life truly felt like a “retreat.” A peaceful rest I’d never properly enjoyed even in my original world.

If there was one flaw in this perfect rest, it was Louis’s attitude. His personal vacation lasted only a day. After bustling around all day, he returned to his role as my maid the very next morning—serving me with even more devotion than he had in the palace.

One of his routines was bringing cakes from a famous bakery in the capital. Ever since arriving at the estate, I’d enjoyed tea time without Erich, and each time Louis would present a new cake from that bakery. I savored each one, but was shocked to learn he’d been buying them with his own money.

The cakes were exquisite, but the estate’s chef was more than capable of making tea-time desserts. When I asked Louis why he spent his own money, he said buying cakes from that bakery had been a personal goal.

Apparently, even noble ladies queued for those cakes, so it made sense that purchasing them could be a dream. But wasn’t eating the cake the true fulfillment of that dream?

Yet Louis only bought them—he never ate them. I was the one enjoying them. So I immediately filled a three-tier cake stand with the bakery’s latest creations and invited Louis to a tea party in the garden.

“Louis, I’ve been meaning to do this for a while. Finally got the chance.”

Louis looked between me and the colorful cake stand and burst into tears. He hadn’t cried even on that bloody day, but he always shed tears in the strangest moments.

Word of this reached Giscal. One evening at dinner, he seriously asked about hiring the famous bakery’s head pastry chef. His earnestness made me laugh out loud.

“Oh, having it occasionally is enough, isn’t it? If you hired that chef personally, the noble ladies would be furious.”

I joked lightly while slicing a steak with a tangy sauce. Giscal pondered for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

Naturally, I compared him to Erich. Erich would’ve ignored my opinion and hired the chef for the palace, punishing anyone who dared complain.

He always claimed to act for my sake, but did so entirely on his own terms.

Giscal, however, was different.

He respected my opinions in all matters concerning life at the estate. He accommodated my needs but never pressured me when I hesitated or declined.

Maybe that’s why spending time with Giscal no longer felt uncomfortable. Of course, it wasn’t like we spent every moment together at Edelheit.

Giscal was the head of the Edelheit family, a marquis, and the commander who had just led a victorious war. He was incredibly busy.

He even spent nights away. When I asked Louis, he said Giscal often stayed at the palace to handle post-war affairs—using rare Motus to communicate with subordinates in Armatan and review documents.

How smoothly and advantageously post-war matters were handled was a national concern. So Giscal always returned to the capital only after everything was settled—except for this war.

Why was that?

I tried to guess, but no convincing reason came to mind.

Then I remembered the Motus I received from Perlo. He’d given me a third-stage Motus shard, promising to share results once his research was complete.

It was meant to receive messages from him, but it was also my only way to contact him. He probably didn’t know I was staying at Edelheit.

Honestly, since we both held Motus shards, my location wasn’t that important. Still, out of curiosity and boredom, I took out the red Dimotus from my jewelry box.

I tore a piece of paper from my notebook and wrote a simple note: I’d be at Edelheit for a month. It wasn’t much, but the idea of initiating spatial transfer for the first time made my heart race. I’d only ever been transported—never sent anything myself.

I removed the red cloth that acted as a barrier and brought the note close to the third-stage Dimotus. The moment it touched the shard, it should vanish in a red glow and travel to Perlo through a mysterious path. I leaned in with anticipation.

But…

“Huh? Why isn’t it disappearing?”

I blurted out in surprise. Swallowing nervously, I tried again. Still, nothing happened. The note remained.

“What’s going on?”

Despite all the Motus books I’d read, I had no idea how to troubleshoot a malfunctioning shard. And this one was crafted by a genius Motus artisan. If even his creation didn’t work, how could I possibly understand why?

I tried other objects—sapphire ring, feather pen, silk handkerchief—but nothing transferred. Staring at the red shard, I muttered,

“Is it broken?”

A Motus that couldn’t transfer anything was just an overpriced rock. My once-thrilled heart turned cold.

“Your Highness, is something wrong?”

Louis entered with freshly laundered loungewear, having heard my sigh.

I sighed again and slumped over the table. The red Motus shard lay atop it.

“What’s with the rock?”

An accurate description, really. I chuckled bitterly.

“Yeah, it’s just a rock. I’m a bit tired—could you bring me something sweet and a drink?”

“I’ll be right back.”

Sweets were the best remedy for stress.

So much for the flawless genius Motus artisan.

I considered tossing the useless red rock out the window but ended up stashing it in my vanity drawer.

Realizing that the expensive Motus I’d received was just a worthless red stone left me feeling gloomy.

Just then, Louis returned with sweet cakes and cookies. Truly, sweets were the best cure for a bad mood. I cut a bite-sized piece of cake and popped it into my mouth. The sweetness spread delightfully.

But…

I took another bite. The cake, topped with rich whipped cream, was delicious. Yet something was missing. Compared to the famous bakery cakes Louis had bought with his own money…

“Louis, what was the name of that bakery again?”

“Pakia Bakery. You really do prefer their cakes, don’t you?”

He asked with confident certainty. I nodded, feeling a bit guilty toward the estate’s chef.

“This cake is really good, but those bakery cakes are just… I get why you went out of your way to buy them.”

“Of course! It was one of my goals!”

Louis exclaimed proudly, clearly in high spirits.

“What kind of goal?”

“Well, naturally, a goal for Your Highness. If you’re feeling bored, you might enjoy visiting it yourself. Just seeing the colorful cakes in the display case lifts your mood. And there’s a festival happening in the western plaza right now.”

“A festival?”

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