Chapter 10
Something unexpected happened the next morning that I hadn't quite planned for, and it was something I had completely forgotten about.
After the fun of the previous evening—and having sent Odette and Katia home with promises to write soon—I'd woken up with one mission: get through breakfast and mentally rehearse for my afternoon meeting with Chancellor Veltin.
I'd spent the entire morning outlining my questions, trying to strategize how I'd bring up the Shadow Walkers without sounding like a paranoid conspiracy theorist with a death wish.
Which... was difficult, since we hadn't exactly plotted that arc very well in the book.
But then, just as Father was making a passionate argument that strawberry jam was superior to orange marmalade and Julian was halfway through a sentence about the latest cavalry drills, a servant burst into the room.
"Urgent correspondence, Your Grace," the messenger panted, holding out the letter with both hands.
I knew before he even opened it. Father's face, usually slack with good-natured sarcasm or some ridiculous joke, tightened. He read it once. Twice.
Then he stood.
"We're leaving. Within the hour."
My stomach dropped. It was the first time I'd seen him so serious since I'd woken up in this world. "What happened?"
He handed the letter to Julian, but it was addressed to all three of us. I scanned it as Julian read aloud:
"One of the silver mines near the northern mountains has collapsed. Several workers are missing, and several more are dead. Including the Baron, who'd been on a routine visit the day the mine collapsed." Julian's jaw clenched as he continued to read the letter. "Of course it had to be that mine."
I blinked. "What do you mean?"
Julian sighed, as Father talked urgently with the messenger, begging for any additional details he could provide.
He was clearly shaken at the news of the deaths of one of his vassals.
"It was a mine newly opened last month, and quite promising.
Father had just signed a trade agreement with Aradonia, but they'll have to go back to the drawing board now if we want enough supplies before winter. "
Father pinched the bridge of his nose. "They suspect it may have been sabotage–though I'm loathe to believe it. Who on earth would want to kill Baron Weisly? He'd never harm a soul." His voice had started to regain composure, but he was still slightly shaken.
Julian looked grim. "Labor disputes can be deadly, father," was all he said.
"And now it's a crisis." Duke Leeland sighed.
I sat back in my chair, my appetite gone. "So we're returning?"
"Today," Father said grimly. "We'll leave the moment the carriage is ready."
A pang of guilt—and relief—tightened in my chest. I'd forgotten this would happen.
This same thing had happened in the Novel—and Rosaria had insisted on staying behind.
Which was smart, on her part, to focus on her Crown Princess Duties.
But I was different from her. This just gave me an excuse.
A legitimate reason to cut my stay in the capital short, before anyone could throw another surprise tea party or ask if Roland and I had started choosing flower arrangements for our wedding.
"Send a message to Baron Ygard and Vesslen, we must meet immediately at Baron Weisly's residence upon my return." He placed a hand on the servant's shoulder, who was just about to leave. "And please, send our sincerest condolences to Lady Weisly and her son."
It was hard–seeing the bright and cheery Duke Leeland look this upset. It gave me all the more sense of urgency..
"I'll pack," I said, rising from my chair.
Julian glanced at me, brow raised. "No protest?"
I smiled tightly. "No time for one."
Because this wasn't just about fleeing awkward courtship or political theater anymore. This was real. Our duchy was falling apart. And I was going to fix it, piece by piece, if I had to claw through the rubble myself. It's the only way to secure my future.
The sun was still low in the sky, casting long shadows across the courtyard as servants scrambled to secure trunks and saddle bags. Julian stood near the horses, checking straps like we were heading into battle. He always took his packing very seriously.
We wouldn't be leaving with the fancy procession the Capital usually afforded a Duchy—rather, we were set to leave as quickly and fashionless as possible.
Some of the nobles, friends of my father, who had heard were quick to arrive and share their condolences.
Even the King and Roland came to see us off, and Katia did as well.
I tugged my gloves on slowly, delaying the inevitable. I'd already written a short note to Odette—she wasn't an early riser, and waking her up just for a hug felt like tempting fate. Besides, I was pretty sure she'd respect the abruptness. "Efficient exit," she'd probably call it.
"Lady Rosaria!" Katia called, practically tripping over her own feet in her rush. "I—I just heard. Is it true? You're leaving already?"
I turned to face them and smiled, a little softer than usual. "Afraid so. A mine collapsed in the North. It's bad."
Katia's hands flew to her mouth. "Oh no... that's terrible. Is everything alright?"
"They're fine. A few injuries, and sadly Baron Weisly... didn't make it. Unfortunately, just a mess to clean up—and I'm rather impartial to cleaning messes." I paused, shaking my head.
Katia gasped, "That's awful, I'm so sorry, Rosaria."
Roland made his way through the gathering of Nobles and cluster of servants shuttling luggage around. I could see the red tinge Katia's ears as he approached, and stood a few feet beside her.
"Rosaria, I offer my sincerest condolences," He said, in a very stoic, princely manor.
"Thank you. It's certainly a matter to not be taken lightly, as I'm sure you know," I said grimly. Then, to add a touch of dry humor to lighten the mood, I added a small chuckle, "At least this gives you a break from me publicly embarrassing you in front of Duke Robain. Enjoy it while it lasts."
"Take care of yourself, Lady Rosaria," he said, politely, not rising to the bait, "We'll see each other again soon."
I nodded. "You as well, Prince." It was a simple yet polite farewell, but much better than the one that had happened in the novel. Things were changing, and at least now the Prince and I were on neutral ground.
Katia stepped forward, pulling me into a surprisingly firm hug for someone who usually acted like she'd break if hugged too hard. "Please send word when you arrive. I—I'll worry."
"I will," I promised, squeezing her back. "And you. Keep visiting the palace garden."
Katia blinked. "But why would I—"
"She means don't forget the climbing roses," Julian muttered, in passing. He'd clearly already picked up on my plans. Smart little bugger.
I smirked. "Exactly."
Katia looked slightly confused, but I could see the blush forming on Roland's cheeks as he looked away, clearly warring with the guilt within himself.
-—
The journey home was quiet. Not somber, exactly—but heavy. The kind of quiet that sinks into your bones after a long day, where even the rattling of the carriage wheels seems respectful.
I stared out the window, watching the landscape shift from the pristine, manicured elegance of the capital to the more rugged beauty of our duchy.
Our lands were beautiful in a different way—wild and sprawling, flecked with silver-laced stone and evergreen hills.
It was a strange kind of comfort, and I felt strangely tied to it.
I guess I am still Rosaria, in some way.
On the journey, we spent hours talking of our plans.
Duke Leeland was more grim than I'd ever seen him, mourning the loss of one of his closest friends.
His mood lightened as we continued, but it was still jarring to see.
I never want to see him when he's angry, I thought. Maybe he's not just a fool.
The Duke would leave as soon as we returned to the Manor, without a moment to rest. With a company of his closest knights and servants, he would journey to Baron Weisly's territory to appoint the new Baron Weisly, a young boy barely past sixteen.
Then, he would hold a long meeting with his other vassals, including the city Lords, to come up with a plan.
No matter how much Julian and I begged to let us come with him, the Duke held firm. It threw a wrench in my plans, but it also served to put me in my place and force me to slow down. That's right, I can't move too fast. Instead, I would focus on cleaning up the manor while my father was gone.
I had a few ideas of where to start, but not much was written about Rosaria's home life in the novel, so I was going in blind.
We were received by the entire staff, chiefly the head Maid, Clara, head Butler Vespin, and Knight Captain Alaric.
I adjusted my gloves and stepped into the drawing room where the senior staff awaited our return.
They bowed in unison. My father, ever too trusting, had left the estate in their hands while we were away.
The hands of snakes. I smiled coolly, letting my gaze sweep over them.
The grand halls of the Leeland estate felt strangely unfamiliar after weeks at court.
Not that I had ever grown comfortable with them, as I'd spent more time at the castle in this world, but Rosaria's body seemed to welcome them as a familiar and comforting sight.
The towering chandeliers, the scent of aged parchment and polished wood—it was home, yet something about it felt.
.. tainted. Perhaps it was because I now saw it with new eyes.
Immediately upon our return, Father had gathered his company to leave, while Julian had retired to his room, pouting slightly about not being able to go with him. However, as soon as father left, I had requested the staff to meet me here. Now, they looked at me with questioning eyes.
"At ease," I said, settling into the high-backed chair at the center of the room. "Let's keep this brief. I want a report on estate matters. Financials, household affairs—spare no detail."
The Butler, Vespin, a lean man with graying hair, cleared his throat. "Of course, my lady. I have already prepared the necessary documents for your review." He handed me a stack of parchment—too thick.
Too much information meant an attempt to overwhelm. I made a mental note of it.
The head maid, a woman named Clara who had served in the household since Rosaria's childhood, smiled warmly. "The estate has been well cared for in your absence, Lady Rosaria. We maintained all operations exactly as you left them."
I met her gaze. Something about her felt... off. Whether it was her cold gaze of indifference, or the authority she gave off that rivaled my own, I knew I didn't like her. I didn't like the way she looked at me.
"I'm sure you have," I said lightly. "I'll review everything myself, of course. My father trusts you all completely, but I find I have a new appreciation for understanding the finer details of our house's affairs."
The slightest flicker in her expression. Gone in an instant.
"Of course, my lady," she said smoothly. "I will personally assist you however I can."
A loyal servant—or someone who wanted to keep me from looking too closely?
I smiled. "I'm sure you will, Clara. In fact, why don't you join me later? I'd love to discuss the management of my personal accounts. I have so many questions about the way things were handled in my absence."
Another flicker. A pause before she bowed. "As you wish, Lady Rosaria."
Oh, yes. This would be fun.