It Turned Out She Wasn't a Favored Concubine - Episode 44

“A festival?”

When I showed interest, Louie visibly lit up and began excitedly talking about the festival. I listened with genuine curiosity.

The Edelheit estate was very comforting, but also quite dull. Life at the palace had its routines too, but Erich’s presence and Arne’s past misdeeds kept the tension alive. At Edelheit, however, there was no tension—my emotions were so relaxed they were bordering on complacency.

“Ah, of course, ensuring Your Highness’s safety is the top priority.”

Louie, who had been happily rambling about the festival, suddenly emphasized this with seriousness.

“Then shall we talk to Hans and Martenal?”

At Louie’s call, Hans and Martenal entered the drawing room attached to my chamber. While Louie prepared tea, Hans spoke first.

“Your Highness, what brings you to call us?”

“It’s nothing serious. I just wanted to go out for a bit…”

Before I could finish, Hans’s brow furrowed deeply.

“Nothing serious? As someone responsible for Your Highness’s safety, this is a grave matter. I’ll summon the royal guards immediately.”

Sensing he was about to leap into action, I quickly waved my hand.

“I’m not planning to go out right this moment.”

“Right, calm down. Why are palace guards always so unnecessarily hasty? So, where would you like to go?”

“First, Pakia Bakery and the western plaza. Isn’t there a festival happening at the western plaza?”

“Ah, since you’ve come out of the palace, you want to check out the festival? Great idea. Honestly, lounging around the estate is fine for a day or two, but…”

Louie cleared his throat behind us. Martenal quickly corrected his wording and nodded. Then Hans spoke up.

“I’ve heard the festivals held at the four plazas of the capital are for commoners. They’re noisy and chaotic—not suitable for Your Highness’s dignity.”

Hans opposed the idea with a solemn expression.

“Moreover, in a place like a festival where countless strangers gather, we cannot predict what threats may arise to Your Highness’s safety.”

Seeing Hans’s stubborn and rigid face, I realized going out wouldn’t be easy.

“If there’s even a slight risk to Your Highness, it’s best not to go…”

The first to be swayed by Hans’s opposition was Louie. Just moments ago, she had been so excited, but concern for my safety quickly subdued her. It was a shame.

“Louie, you should go. You can tell me all about it afterward.”

“No, it wouldn’t mean anything if I went without Your Highness.”

“Don’t be like that. Oh, wasn’t your childhood friend Mary staying at the estate? Go with her.”

Louie averted her gaze and replied,

“Mary returned to the Edelheit territory.”

“What? She just got here!”

“She just… did, apparently.”

Louie’s vague response was uncharacteristic. Ever since Mary’s name came up, Louie hadn’t met my eyes—as if she were hiding something.

“Your Highness should go with your maid. What are you saying?”

Martenal slammed the table and stood up.

“Just because guarding is difficult doesn’t mean you can block a lady’s joyful outing! Are you saying your convenience is more important than hers?”

Hans stiffened at Martenal’s accusation.

“Of course not. Then I’ll assign all the guards currently stationed at the villa to escort Your Highness.”

“All the ones who followed me here?”

“Yes. If that’s not enough, I’ll call for reinforcements from the palace.”

“But wouldn’t bringing all the guards from the villa be a nuisance at the festival?”

Hans’s eyebrow twitched violently. Just as he was about to object, Martenal chimed in.

“Exactly! If you parade around with dozens of stiff guards, people will start avoiding you. Do you want the lady to be embarrassed?”

“That’s…”

Hans clenched his teeth, unable to respond, and lifted his head.

“Still, we cannot neglect security. Plazas have many blind spots, so we need a large escort.”

“That’s not necessarily true. The number of escorts depends on their skill. With the current guards, you’d need dozens, but a highly skilled swordsman could handle it alone.”

Martenal raised one finger as he spoke. Hans glared at him.

“You’re not suggesting that swordsman is you, are you?”

Martenal shrugged.

“I’m not that arrogant.”

“Then who are you talking about?”

“You know who I mean. Who else but our captain?”

Hans tensed his jaw, and I leaned forward over the table.

“You mean Giscal?”

Martenal snapped his fingers.

“Exactly! If you ask him, he’ll definitely agree.”

Suddenly asking Giscal to escort me—just for a casual outing? That was out of the question. I shook my head.

“No, he’s busy with post-war matters. I can’t ask him for something like this. It’s fine, I don’t need to go out.”

“Come on, if you say that, the captain will be disappointed. He thought about his sister even on the battlefield. He used up so much stationery writing to you. At first, I thought he was writing to a new lover.”

“How do you know Giscal and I exchanged letters?”

Surprised, I asked. Martenal scrunched his nose.

“You were struggling so much, I helped a little. Just a little. I peeked at the contents, and even a fiancée would run away from those letters.”

What on earth did those letters say? I stared at him suspiciously, and Martenal quickly added,

“I didn’t write them for you! I just taught you that letters to family aren’t official documents. And don’t tell the captain!”

“I didn’t know your mouth was so loose.”

Startled, Martenal turned around and knocked over his chair. From behind the door, hidden in the shadows, Giscal stepped forward.

“The door was open, so I overheard. May I come in?”

“Uh-huh.”

Giscal avoided my gaze as he asked for permission. Meanwhile, Martenal stood frozen, unable to sit, mouth agape. Giscal stared directly at him.

“I came to ask your opinion on the 3rd Division’s treatment. Your voice was loud and clear. Come to the training grounds later.”

“Uh, the training grounds? Why? I could explain everything about the 3rd Division right here…”

“You’ve been distracted lately. I think your body’s stiff. Let’s spar.”

“Eek!”

Martenal let out a strange scream. Giscal ignored him and turned to me, though his gaze still didn’t meet mine.

“You’re going to the western plaza festival?”

“It just came up. I don’t have to go.”

“Post-war matters are mostly settled. What’s left is paperwork. I don’t have much to do.”

“No, there are guards at the villa…”

Feeling burdened, I tried to decline, but Martenal jumped in.

“That would be inconvenient! Let’s just set a date. How about tomorrow?”

“Isn’t that too soon? People need time to prepare…”

“What’s there to prepare? We just go! Everyone wants to go to the festival, right? Strike while the iron’s hot—let’s go tomorrow!”

Martenal looked around with pleading eyes. Hans raised an eyebrow, wondering what was wrong with her. Louie turned away. Giscal didn’t react. Everyone ignored her, and she looked pitiful. I had to respond.

“Uh… then shall we go tomorrow?”

“Yes! You’re the best, my lady!”

Martenal raised her thumbs and cheered.

“Then it’s settled. We’re going tomorrow!”

She confirmed again, and I looked around.

“Is everyone okay with that? If no one minds, tomorrow should be fine.”

“If Your Highness wishes to go, any time is fine. But you don’t need to consider her.”

Louie whispered in my ear, glaring at Martenal.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m ready anytime.”

With Giscal and Hans agreeing, there was no need to change the date. I glanced at Louie and made the decision.

“Then let’s go tomorrow.”

Once I gave a firm answer, Martenal clenched her fists in triumph. She looked at Giscal and declared,

“Since the lady is going out tomorrow, I can’t spar today. One match with the captain and I’ll be bedridden for two days! Haha, such a shame.”

Her face showed no regret as she stretched her lips into a forced smile. It was clear why she pushed for tomorrow. Giscal sighed.

“I’ll postpone today’s sparring, but be prepared next time.”

“Of course. So, shall we discuss the 3rd Division here?”

Martenal pounded her chest confidently, smiling now that the sparring was postponed.

“No, come to the office. I’ll be going now.”

Giscal quickly turned and left the room.

“It’s just a few words—why go all the way…”

Martenal muttered, watching Giscal’s retreating figure. Then she gasped and looked at me with a meaningful expression.

“I guess you were a bit embarrassed because I mentioned the letters.”

“Embarrassed?”

That word didn’t suit Giscal at all. I nearly had cognitive dissonance. But Martenal was serious, now focused on how to avoid sparring with Giscal, saying one match would leave her bedridden for a week.

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