The Duchess.
Her existence was even present in the ga.
However, after Lady Esralda's death, her figure was nowhere to be seen in the Edelgard Ducal House.
She was rely a character from a mory episode recounted by Lady Iris, who narrated past events.
Currently, I’d heard she is alive and well, with no health issues to speak of. Yet here I was, summoned by such a person. To quickly clean up, I jumped into the bath, had Ingrid tidy up my appearance, and made sure I was presentable enough to stand before nobility before following the maid who ca to fetch . I was led to a place I rarely ever approached.
"Madam, I have brought Libertà-sama."
It could be called a balcony overlooking the ducal estate’s garden.
To call it simply a "balcony" would be an understatent—it was so vast that while tennis might be impossible, it could probably host an Olympic table tennis match.
At a table set in this space sat a single woman.
Surrounded by a butler, maids, and knights, she elegantly sipped her tea.
The first wife of Duke Edelgard—Duchess Catheria.
At the maid’s announcent, she set down her cup.
"My apologies for summoning you so suddenly."
"Not at all."
I bowed slightly in response to her apology.
"Would you serve him so tea as well? And could he take a seat there?"
"Then, pardon my intrusion."
The fact that she wanted to speak while seated rather than standing suggested the conversation might be lengthy.
I sat in the chair pulled out by the butler, now facing the Duchess directly.
Now then, what topic would co up?
Given her good relationship with His Grace the Duke, I didn’t expect anything outrageous—but that was only by my standards.
From a noble’s perspective, even sothing like a dragon hunt might be casually requested as if asking for a shopping favor.
I hoped I wouldn’t be tempted to retort with "Easier said than done."
As I worried, tea was served. I reached for it, took a sip, and widened my eyes at the unexpectedly fruity, sweet flavor—far stronger than the usual black tea I imagined.
"Did it not suit your taste?"
"No, it’s sweet and delicious."
"Yes, it’s my favorite blend."
To serve her preferred tea—did that an I didn’t need to be too wary of what was coming?
The Duchess smiled warmly, her mood seeming pleasant, but I had no clue what might be going through her mind.
"Are you curious about why I summoned you?"
"...To be honest, yes."
"I thought so. Being summoned by a noble—let alone the wife of a Duke—would naturally make anyone curious."
Did my expression give it away?
No, for a battle-hardened Duchess well-versed in noble mind gas, my face was probably an open book.
She wore a troubled smile, resting a hand on her cheek as if understanding, but my noble conversation skills were likely failing spectacularly.
For a mont, I considered deflecting, but quickly realized it was pointless and admitted the truth. That seed to be the right move, as she began speaking after a brief preface.
"You’ve heard about Esralda, haven’t you?"
"Yes, that things have taken a rather serious turn."
"Indeed. This matter is no longer just an issue between houses. A public annulnt hinted at in front of the entire academy, followed by actions that hurt Esralda. To let this slide would tarnish the Edelgard Ducal House’s na."
Where had the earlier calm atmosphere gone?
And past , who had been optimistic just seconds ago—this was nobility.
The conversation had taken a sharp turn into aristocratic gravity.
Well, it made sense as a reason for summoning .
"However, my husband is handling that matter."
"Yes, I’ve heard as much."
This issue shouldn’t involve . If I stepped in, things would only get tangled and worse.
So why was the Duchess bringing it up?
The flow of the conversation felt like she was confirming mutual understanding.
As if ensuring there were no discrepancies in our perceptions.
What did she want?
If she expected to read her mind, I had to assert that I lacked such skills.
If I had psychic mind-reading abilities, I’d be unstoppable in PvP.
While lost in irrelevant thoughts, I tried piecing together her intentions.
"This will protect the Edelgard Ducal House’s honor. Yes, at least our house’s honor. But Esralda’s wound—being publicly rejected—will remain."
Ah, that’s it.
Now that she ntioned it, she was absolutely right.
The other party was clearly at fault—evidence had made that much obvious.
With the Duke’s intervention, the incident would be resolved, but Lady Esralda’s reputation would still suffer.
Sympathy would follow, but in noble society, such pity was far from favorable.
"Cheated on, the other party was wrong, how pitiful."
In simple terms, those three phrases sumd it up—but for nobles, it wasn’t a fatal wound, just an unsavory mark.
"I want to make that wound as shallow as possible—no, ideally, heal it entirely."
A mother’s love for her daughter drove her actions.
"Does the Duke know about this?"
"He does. Though I haven’t told my daughter."
"Then, well..."
If this were reckless, it’d be a problem—but with the Duke’s approval, there was no harm in brainstorming.
What the Duchess wanted from was reputation restoration.
Marriage would normally suffice, but she seed to be seeking sothing else.
"The quickest thod would be for you to rise as a hero and take Esralda as your bride—"
"Let’s pretend I didn’t hear that."
"Oh? Do you have complaints about my daughter?"
"It’s more about the ‘becoming a hero’ part."
She wasn’t serious, right?
Though frad as a joke, I swear her eyes glead for a second.
"How disappointing."
"Is that really fine as a mother?"
"It’s because I’m her mother that I want her to have a good match. Though at your age, perhaps Iris would be more suitable?"
"Let’s stop there. A commoner like has no place in such talks."
"Unless you beco a hero—"
"Ah, it seems ti is up. My apologies, but—"
"Oh my. Then let’s hurry to the main topic."
Like her husband, the Duchess seed oddly fond of .
The condition for marriage was becoming a hero, so I held back—but the idea of marrying my in-ga "waifu" filled with both joy and guilt.
So, sensing danger, I subtly tried to exit the conversation, and the Duchess gracefully relented.
"To counter disgrace, we could bestow honor instead. The simplest way? If she was stolen by a Saintess, then why not beco a Saintess herself?"
"What do you an?"
"Make it so she can boldly declare, ‘Your fiancé is blind!’ Have His Majesty himself bear witness. That way, the other side’s excuse—‘I had to protect the Saintess’—crumbles, reducing them to just a cheating scoundrel."
So I casually proposed the idea that ca to mind.
I’d heard the details of Lady Esralda’s broken engagent.
The tiline of excuses was a ss, but the other party’s argunt boiled down to: "I had to protect the Saintess, and I was the most suitable for the role."
A laughably flimsy justification for infidelity, though their use of "justice" showed they cared about appearances.
So why not make their excuses even flimsier and crush them outright?
If Lady Esralda beca a Saintess and proved it, it’d expose the other party as nothing more than a scumbag who abandoned one Saintess for another.
"I see."
"Plus, having a Saintess in the Ducal House would be a significant advantage. Many nobles would want to marry her, no?"
"Not a bad proposal."
By adding benefits for the Ducal House, her expression shifted from motherly concern to aristocratic calculation.
"But is becoming a Saintess that simple?"
"It is."
"......"
"What?"
The only issue was whether she could beco a Saintess—and on that, I could confidently say yes.
But my imdiate answer made the Duchess widen her eyes before she chuckled wryly.
"Just as my husband said. ‘Be prepared—you never know what he’ll say.’"
"A fact is a fact. No need to lie."
"Even if it’s true, hearing ‘becoming a Saintess is easy’ isn’t sothing one can just accept."
The Saintess job’s acquisition conditions weren’t particularly difficult.
But it required so know-how.
The job itself wasn’t hard to obtain, but adding titles to any job made things exponentially tougher—a staple in gas.
"We’ll consider the Saintess matter. When the ti cos, we may ask for your help."
I avoided delving deeper, simply stating that acquiring the job alone was easy.
Relieved, the Duchess then requested my cooperation.
"I’ll help, but no strange requests, alright?"
I didn’t mind assisting, but I drew the line at additional unreasonable demands.
"I’ll handle it appropriately."
Her non-committal response was so noble of her.
The Saintess job had three requirents:
1. Max out a non-offensive light-attribute magic skill (Purification works, but Heal is ideal).
2. Equip the Saintess’ Hair Ornant (Sounds rare, but it’s craftable with mithril and light spirit stone—even a Level 3 artisan can make it).
3. Visit a branch temple of the Light Goddess Laithea with the above conditions to unlock the quest.
Clear the quest, and voilà—Saintess.
Simple if you know the steps, but tricky otherwise.
"This is all it takes to beco a Saintess?"
"Yes, that’s all. Should I write down the quest details for you later?"
"...Give them to my husband instead."
Her reaction was as if she’d been led on a wild goose chase.
Most job conditions in this world weren’t clearly defined, which explained why Saintesses were so revered.
The quest itself was tedious but doable with the right steps.
"Understood."
Though before that, Lady Esralda’s job would need adjusting—but if she wasn’t asking, she likely already knew how.
The final decision rested with her parents and her.
"Still, it lacks a decisive edge. The other side is slippery—they’ll resist bitterly and likely hold a grudge."
"Then why not make them regret switching by making Lady Esralda even more radiant?"
I thought this direction was safe—but I’d let my guard down.
"Like , my daughter is already beautiful. She uses your rice lotion daily. How much more radiant can she—"
"There’s Spirit’s Blessing—a superior version of the rice lotion. It works on hair, skin, everything. A truly all-purpose costic."
I knew won were relentless about beauty, but this was the one ti I realized I’d slipped up.
As I sipped my lukewarm tea, I recalled an item I’d once made—a potion variant with costic effects.
Originally a money-making sche, it was absurdly effective.
Having seen the "before and after" from in-ga events, I knew its power—and carelessly ntioned it.
"Details."
"Huh?"
"Explain. Now."
"No, this was just a—"
"Na your price. I’ll pay. So speak. You’re not leaving until you do."
And just like that, I’d stepped on a dragon’s tail.
Faced with the Duchess’ overwhelming aura—not as a noble, but as a woman—I could only nod with a smile.
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