After finishing all the primary wedding arrangements, Elena sat alone in her room looking over the Blaise documents when–
Kkiiigeu.
The unlocked window swung open, and Kuhn casually landed inside the room. Elena had been expecting him.
“Welcome, Sir Kasha.”
“I came here to report on your request from the other day.”
“Did you find the men who broke into Mirabelle’s room?”
“Yes, but I don’t think you will need to do anything about it.”
“What does that mean?”
Kuhn answered, his expression blank but courteous.
“There were a total of eight men that went into Mirabelle’s room. One of fell off his horse and was paralyzed, one was caught gambling illegally, one had an arm cut off, another was attacked by an unidentified man–”
Kuhn informed her that in a short amount of time, all eight men had each been involved in some kind of accident. It was difficult to believe that it was not intentional. Elena listened with her mouth agape.
“…How is that possible?”
“They moved as one unit, and someone other than you had a grudge.”
“That’s perfect timing for me.”
Despite the distribution of vengeance, Elena still regretted not being able to punish them with her own hands. The other party must have had their grudge the same time she had. She wondered who had gotten to them first.
‘There is no one else but me who could make them pay for what they did to Mirabelle…’
Kuhn noticed that Elena’s expression still remained troubled.
“If it isn’t enough for you…shall I deal with them permanently?”
“While I am still resentful, they have been punished enough. Let’s move on from it.”
“I understand.”
Elena’s eyes fell on a spot of blood on Kuhn’s white sleeve. Apparently his wounds hadn’t fully healed yet, and she looked at him anxiously.
“Are you hurt?”
“Why are you asking that all of a sudden?”
“Your sleeve…”
Kuhn followed Elena’s gaze at and replied in a casual voice.
“Oh, this is not my blood. I had to deal with some people recently.”
Watching him speak so calmly, Elena remembered that Kuhn was a brilliant assassin. The question, “Shall I deal with them permanently?” did not sound like an empty suggestion. In a way, both Carlisle and Kuhn were similar in that respect.
Elena shook her head, and her thoughts turned to Carlisle. She wondered how he was doing these days. She was knee-deep in wedding planning and had not contacted him in some time.
“The Crown Prince…how is he doing?”
“He is the same as usual.”
His reply was curt, and Elena didn’t know what to say. Kuhn opened his mouth again as if he realized that his answer was too short.
“Shall I tell the General that you want to know about his well-being?”
“There’s no need to. I just thought about him and wanted to ask.”
“Yes, I see.”
Kuhn’s answer was immediate and short.
“By the way, I see there are some new workers at Blaise mansion these days.”
Elena nodded without any qualms, knowing that Kuhn kept a watch on the mansion.
“Yes, that’s correct. I was worried there weren’t enough hands to help with the wedding.”
“I see.”
Kuhn seemed to be deliberating with himself for a moment, then spoke in a low voice.
“Anyone suspicious?”
“Mirabelle and the butler would have thoroughly checked everyone’s resume. Why? Is something bothering you?”
“No. I’m just keeping an eye out for any new people coming into the mansion.”
He brushed aside her worries, yet his words left an impression on Elena. She didn’t think there was an assassin that could touch her, but Mirabelle was in the house. Fortunately, her brother Derek was here as well, but it was safer not to have any dangerous people around.
There were a few other concerning thoughts that snagged her mind. Helen had once sent someone to tail her, and Stella Viviana could decide to send an assassin to put to sleep any rumors.
“If you notice anyone suspicious, please let me know.”
“Of course. You have my careful extra attention, so don’t worry.”
“Thank you.”
When Kuhn finished saying what had to be said, he did not delay and made to leave.
“If you have nothing more to say, I will go now.”
“I’ll tie a handkerchief if I need you.”
“Understood.”
Kuhn disappeared silently through the window. Elena turned towards her documents again, and not long after there was an urgent knock on the door. She looked up, puzzled.
“Come in.”
Michael rushed through the door, looking flustered. It was unusual for him to look so harried that Elena could not help but wonder what this was all about.
“What’s going on?”
Michael held out a red invitation to her. Since the announcement of her marriage with Carlisle, she received dozens of letters each day. Another letter was nothing special. Elena gave Michael a questioning look, and the butler took a deep breath and quickly spoke.
“A man from the Imperial Palace came and passed this on to me.”
“The Imperial Palace?”
Not too long ago, Emperor Sullivan had discreetly delivered her a red invitation.
‘The Emperor wants me to have dinner with him again?’
Elena opened the invitation to confirm the sender, but what she saw was a completely unexpected name.
Second Prince Redfield. Ophelia’s biological son, the biggest obstacle to Carlisle.
‘Why did he…?’
Another white piece of paper with a note was inserted in the invitation, written by Redfield’s hand.
[I wanted to know the person who will become my sister-in-law soon, so please accept the invitation. -Redfield]
She cast her memory back to the imperial ball, and remembered the look and tone of his voice as he placed the tiara on her head. What was the feeling that she had?
Somehow it was ominous.
