After finishing their conversation with Marquis Branford, Ghislain and his group followed the butler to meet Rosaline.

The marquis's mansion was heavily guarded, with soldiers stationed in every corner, as if to warn them not to even think about escaping.

Belinda, nervously glancing around, tugged on Ghislain’s sleeve and whispered to him.

"Young Master! What were you thinking? How did things get this out of hand?"

Out of nowhere, he had barged in, claiming he could cure the marquis’s daughter in exchange for a favor. It was a proposal so absurd that anyone hearing it would be left speechless.

'Well, he’s always been like this, but this time the opponent is too powerful. Strong-arming the kingdom’s most influential noble!'

Some nobles were notorious for executing their servants for even the smallest mistakes. The more powerful they were, the more ruthless they tended to be.

'This isn’t like dealing with the Magic Tower. At least the wizards wouldn’t kill nobles indiscriminately…'

And the biggest problem was that Marquis Branford didn’t need Ghislain’s help like the Magic Tower had.

'Ah, I’ve gotten too complacent lately because things have been going well.'

Everything Ghislain had done recently had turned out perfectly, so Belinda had grown too relaxed, thinking that nothing could go wrong, which was now proving to be a mistake.

'I should’ve stopped him before he even came to the marquis’s mansion!'

Belinda bit her nails in frustration, glaring at Ghislain.

Gillian kept his head down, avoiding eye contact as he scouted possible escape routes.

“If things start going wrong, let me know in advance. I’ll carve a path for us to escape.”

Despite the growing concerns of his companions, Ghislain just smiled confidently.

Seeing his self-assured grin, everyone could only sigh in resignation.

As always, they could only hope he would somehow succeed.

Claude, meanwhile, began to formulate a plan in case things went south—to take the marquis’s daughter as a hostage.

'Judging by the marquis’s personality, it probably won’t work, but… you never know.'

It was basic protocol to gather information about the potential hostage before making a move.

Marquis Branford’s reputation was well-known, even to someone like Claude, who came from another kingdom.

But he knew very little about the marquis’s daughter, Rosaline.

Claude cautiously asked the butler walking beside them.

“So… what kind of person is Lady Rosaline?”

“You may not know her well, being from the north. She was quite famous in the capital.”

“Oh? For what?”

Claude bit his lip nervously. He hoped she wasn’t some kind of expert in swordsmanship or magic—those would be difficult hostages.

The butler spoke with a note of sorrow in his voice.

“She was incredibly bright from a young age. After the death of the marquise, she took over managing the household.”

“Just household matters? She didn’t do anything else?”

The butler scowled, snapping back at him.

“Do you dismiss the duties of the marquis’s household as mere ‘household matters’? Do you not understand the difficulties of managing a noble family’s estate, let alone an entire region?”

“Ah… sorry…”

Claude scratched his head awkwardly, murmuring an apology. The butler glared at him for a moment before continuing.

“Ahem, anyway, aside from that, she also sponsors several organizations.”

The butler, with pride, began listing Rosaline’s accomplishments.

“Our young lady is the patron of many guilds.”

‘Patron of the Cardenia Textile Guild.’

‘Patron of the Cardenia Stonemasons’ Guild.’

‘Patron of the Cardenia Woodworkers’ Guild.’

‘Patron of the Cardenia Sculptors’ Guild.’

‘Patron of the Cardenia Glassworkers’ Guild.’

‘Patron of the Cardenia Society of Natural Philosophy.’

‘Patron of the Cardenia Astronomical Society.’

‘Former Vice-President of the Gentle Ladies’ Reading Society.’

‘Former Vice-President of the Gentle Ladies’ Tea Appreciation Society.’

And the list went on.

Her influence extended to a wide range of fields—science, literature, the arts, and philosophy. Despite her illness, she had continued to fund and manage these organizations.

Claude could only blink in disbelief, his eyes darting from side to side.

'So, the person we’re about to treat is that kind of person. If we fail, we’re all dead.'

The butler, seemingly just getting started, spoke with even more enthusiasm.

“And what about her temperament? She’s always been so calm and gentle, never speaking a harsh word to anyone. Her kindness is unparalleled.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.”

Claude's eyes gleamed. If her personality was really that kind, perhaps she would show mercy if things went wrong.

“Absolutely. She regularly donates essentials to the less fortunate in the capital. If not for her illness, she would be doing even more.”

Ghislain’s companions, now fully captivated by the butler’s praise, couldn’t help but express their admiration.

She sounded like a truly remarkable person. In her own way, she wielded just as much power and influence as her father, Marquis Branford.

But Ghislain, appearing completely indifferent, didn’t seem to be paying any attention at all.

In fact, it was as if he already knew everything or just didn’t care. He gave no reaction to the butler’s words.

Claude sighed, glancing at Ghislain with a mix of frustration and bewilderment.

'Where does he get that confidence from?'

Sometimes Ghislain’s arrogance was impossible to comprehend.

Still, Claude found some relief in the news that Lady Rosaline had a kind personality. Perhaps that would be their saving grace.

Belinda, also feeling somewhat reassured, asked in a slightly more relaxed tone.

“I heard Lady Rosaline was supposed to be getting married soon. Even with her illness, was that still going to happen?”

The comings and goings of the Branford household were closely watched by many, and rumors about Rosaline’s upcoming marriage had spread throughout the capital.

Even Ghislain’s group, who hadn’t been in the capital long, had heard about it.

The butler, however, looked slightly displeased as he answered.

“To be honest, if not for her health, that marriage proposal would never have been considered. The young lord she’s set to marry is infamous in the capital for his idleness... Ahem, but that’s all I’ll say on that matter.”

“Oh, so she’s being forced to marry someone she doesn’t really like because of her illness?”

“It’s not exactly that, but…”

The butler trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

Claude clicked his tongue inwardly, deciding to change the subject.

“Well, I’m sure she’ll be able to get along with her future husband. A woman of such excellence is surely a blessing to the marquis's household.”

The butler’s face darkened at that remark.

“She used to be like that…”

“...?”

Before Claude could ask what he meant, they arrived at Rosaline’s room.

Knock knock.

The butler knocked gently on the door. A quiet voice came from inside.

“…What is it? It’s not time for my meal yet.”

Claude immediately sensed something was off.

The voice was low, repressed, carrying an undercurrent of resentment and bitterness.

‘Something’s wrong. Why does she sound like that?’

Claude wasn’t the only one who noticed. Ghislain frowned and tilted his head.

Trying to dispel the tense atmosphere, the butler cleared his throat and raised his voice.

“You have a guest, my lady.”

“…A guest?”

“The marquis has sent someone to treat your skin condition. Baron Fenris is here.”

“…Send him away.”

Her tone was sharp, filled with irritation.

But the butler couldn’t back down. The marquis had already ordered Ghislain to begin the treatment, and no one in the mansion, not even Rosaline herself, could defy that command.

The butler sighed deeply and spoke again.

“This is a direct order from the marquis.”

“…I said, send him away.”

“I’m sorry, but I’ll be opening the door now. Everyone, be careful.”

“Huh? Careful of what—”

Without further explanation, the butler shut his eyes tightly and flung the door open, immediately diving behind it for cover.

The servants, who had followed closely behind, huddled together, hiding behind the butler.

Whoosh!

As soon as the door opened, something flew out of the dark room at high speed.

“Huh?”

Ghislain, surprised, casually tilted his head to the side.

The object whizzed past his face and headed straight for Claude behind him.

“Gah!”

Claude flinched and squeezed his eyes shut. Thankfully, Wendy, who was standing nearby, swiftly caught the object in mid-air.

“A candlestick?”

Wendy held a beautifully decorated candlestick in her hand.

If it had hit Claude in the face, he would have been seriously injured.

Claude let out a stunned laugh.

‘What happened to her being gentle and kind?’

Far from the soft, kindhearted woman he had expected, Lady Rosaline’s greeting was nothing short of violent.

Noblewomen never behaved like this, especially in front of others. It would bring shame not just on themselves, but on their entire family.

Yet here was the daughter of Marquis Branford, acting without a care.

The butler, clearly embarrassed, kept clearing his throat, trying to explain.

“Ahem, this isn’t like her… She’s been a bit on edge lately…”

‘Judging by how smoothly you dodged that, it seems this has happened more than once.’

The servants clung to the butler, trembling in fear.

Claude narrowed his eyes, glaring at the butler, who quickly averted his gaze.

Just as Claude was about to demand answers, a sharp voice rang out from inside the room.

“I told you to leave! What’s with this nonsense about a cure? Just leave me alone!”

Whoosh!

More objects began flying out from the dark room.

Candlesticks, books, cups, plates, picture frames, vases, incense burners—anything with weight to it was being hurled out indiscriminately.

The butler and the servants stayed safely behind the door, leaving Ghislain and his companions to dodge the incoming projectiles.

But they weren’t ordinary people. They easily dodged or deflected everything thrown at them.

Soon, a frustrated voice came from the room.

“Who the hell are you? What do you think you’re doing? Do you want to die? Get out before I tear you to pieces! Butler, call the soldiers!”

The person who was supposedly too gentle to ever use harsh words was now casually threatening to kill them.

It didn’t sound like it was her first time using such language, either.

“Hmm…”

Ghislain was genuinely caught off guard.

In his previous life, there had been no mention of Rosaline Branford having such a foul temper.

His companions, equally shocked, stared at the butler, their mouths hanging open.

Thud.

The butler quietly closed the door again, coughing awkwardly.

“Ahem, perhaps we should give the young lady a moment to cool down.”

Claude couldn’t hold back his frustration any longer.

“Didn’t you say she was kind and gentle? That she never used harsh words?”

“Well… she used to be.”

“What?”

“Before she fell ill, she was practically an angel. I swear.”

“Wow… unbelievable.”

The butler’s unapologetic defense of his mistress left Claude speechless.

Despite her violent outburst, he continued to support her without question, simply because she was the one he served.

After a few moments, the room finally grew quiet. The butler smiled awkwardly.

“She should have calmed down by now.”

Creak…

He carefully opened the door again.

This time, nothing came flying out.

Only then did Ghislain and his group cautiously peer into the room.

A woman stood with her back to the light, shrouded in shadow.

She wore simple, plain clothing, far from what one would expect of the daughter of a marquis.

Her face was hidden behind a mask, and her hands were covered in gloves, concealing her skin.

The light from the hallway cast a glow over the mask, and through the small gaps in it, a pair of piercing eyes glared out at them.

Gulp.

Everyone swallowed hard, none of them daring to step further into the room.

Rosaline’s voice, low and controlled, filled the darkness.

“Leave. Before I kill you all.”