Baby Prisoner of the Winter Castle

Chapter 7

After checking on the Northern Wall, Maximilian returned to the estate within a day. To do this, he rode through the night and gave up on sleep. He himself wasn’t sure why he was in such a hurry.

One of the knights with him had remarked with a sly smile, “I am sure it is because Her Grace cannot wait to see you.”

However, the duke didn’t agree. She certainly wouldn’t be waiting for him. He could tell by the uncomfortable look on her face whenever they encountered each other. Even so, he found himself rushing back home. He could have just told himself he simply wanted to go home as soon as possible, but he still searched for a reasonable excuse.

“Understood, my lord. But you must return quickly—you promised to hold a grand banquet for everyone.”

Quentin’s words were the perfect cover for him.

“Right, I promised a banquet,” he muttered, gripping the reins tightly.

It was dawn when Maximilian reached the estate. He had not notified anyone of his arrival in advance, so only a few servants rushed out to the gate to welcome him. And since he didn’t care much for appearances, he simply handed them his coat and walked into the lobby. It seemed his wife was notified in a hurry. She rushed out to greet him, looking restless.

“W-welcome home.”

It was only natural, but he could tell she wasn’t particularly welcoming.

“Thank you.”

Though they had spent a whole year apart, there was nothing more to say to each other and nothing much to discuss either. Just by looking around the lobby, Maximilian could see that she had taken good care of the estate while he was away. For a moment, he wondered whether he should thank his wife of small stature—who was only as tall as his chest—but kept his mouth shut, since doing so would only make her more uncomfortable.

“Well, then…” he eventually murmured and turned around.

“Um, I…”

But for some reason, his wife called out to him first. This rarely happened in their marriage. He stopped in his tracks, slightly taken aback. He turned to look at her in puzzlement.

“Th-the child…”

Her voice was so soft that Maximilian had to lean down to hear her better.

“Please help her… I’m sorry.”

*

“May I answer her question, Your Grace?” Clarisse asked Maximilian, her amber eyes wide open.

After examining the child’s clothing and the room, he clearly understood what his wife meant by “help her.”

The maid grew pale as she finally realized who was standing behind her. “Y-Your Grace!”

That maid… Maximilian remembered this maid. His wife had brought this woman with her from her former home, the House of Darington. He recognized her because she never left his wife’s side. For a split second, he was filled with a mix of emotions. Is my wife’s closest servant really this disgusting of a human being?

The maid bowed nervously and offered an excuse. “Th-there must be a misunderstanding, Your Grace. I was only asking her if Your Grace may have brought a guest from the south.”

“I see.”

“That is all, Your Grace. I swear. But this lady here was acting as if I had asked her something terrible.”

“She is not a lady. She is a captive.”

Bessie smiled brightly at this answer and raised her head. She had addressed Clarisse as a lady since she heard that the duke had taken good care of her on their journey here, but she had absolutely no intention of treating this princess from a fallen kingdom as her superior. It seemed that the duke was not showing pity on the girl either, so Bessie was sure he would trust her more. She was his wife’s handmaid, after all.

“Yes, Your Grace. A remnant of the awful Kingdom of Grezekaiah. In any case, I was having some trouble dealing with this defiant child. I will teach her some manners…”

However, Bessie had to lower her head and stop when she noticed the duke’s sharp glare. She felt as though she would suffocate with just the cold look alone.

“Do you have no respect for the law?”

“P-pardon me, Your Grace?”

“Clarisse Lenon Grezekaiah must remain alive and healthy until the age of eighteen.”

He looked around the shabby room and glared at Bessie again. “Yet, there isn’t even a fireplace in here. Are you aware that if the captive dies from a cold, the punishment is execution?”

“No, Your Grace! I did not mean to…”

The maid quickly racked her brain. “D-Duchess Sheridan ordered me to do it!”

The duke didn’t respond. He simply looked at her with an even more piercing gaze.

“M-my lady… she ordered me to…”

Bessie’s voice became quieter and quieter as she realized that he didn’t believe her. Maximilian waved his escorting knights in.

“Put her in the dungeon.”

“B-but, Your Grace!” Bessie screamed in protest

However, the duke ignored her and calmly stated her charges. “She has broken the law and the king’s orders. Not only that, she has attempted to frame her mistress.”

The maid’s eyes widened. When the knights grabbed her arms to drag her away, a servant from the garden approached the duke and handed him a dirty pouch. It was the pouch Bessie had thrown out the window a moment ago.

“It was found under the window, my lord.”

The duke took it and glowered at the maid. “And you also tried to kill my guest?”

A guest? The maid blinked in confusion. “Y-Your Grace?”

The duke held up the pouch containing Clarisse’s rocks. “This. This is my guest.”

“Th-they are just rocks.”

“No, its name is Squishy.”

“Your Grace?”

“The four of them together is Squishy,” the duke added as though he was explaining something important.

Of course, Bessie didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

“Take her away,” Maximilian ordered.

The knights dragged the desperately struggling maid to the dungeon.

*

The atmosphere within the estate became tense after the duchess’s handmaid was punished. The servants were scared that they might be accused of turning a blind eye to Bessie’s acts. They knew the duke placed great value in following the law and the king’s orders. However, he didn’t punish anyone else besides Bessie. He simply prioritized improving the treatment of Clarisse.

First, he put Rosalie—a maid he could trust—in charge of the child. Rosalie had begun working as a maid at the age of eighteen. She was now fifty-two, a veteran among the servants. The duke had actually wanted to appoint her the head maid of the estate, but she had requested that she maintain her position as an ordinary maid.

“This child is a captive, so you don’t need to serve her like a lady.”

The quick-witted maid smiled and replied, “Yes, but children still need an adult to take care of them.”

“That’s right. And as for her clothes…”

He looked up and down at Clarisse’s ragged dress. The sleeves were loose, and the fabric seemed much too thin. The girl could easily trip and fall over the hem or catch a cold. I can’t believe they dressed her in that. Maximilian was relieved that he had rushed back to the estate. The little girl would certainly have fallen ill if she had endured the harsh winter of Sheridan for any longer in such thin clothes.

Clarisse seemed to have noticed his concern, and she quickly piped up, “I am fine, Your Grace!”

After everything the duke had done for her already, she didn’t want to make her savior worry about what she was wearing as well. It would certainly be irritating to him.

“I must get you some thicker clothes.”

“I-is that what prisoners wear in Sheridan?”

“Well…”

The duke furrowed his brow, falling deep into thought. Of course, prisoners didn’t wear furry outfits. But if he gave the child the usual prisoner uniform, she would surely freeze to death long before she turned eighteen.

“Something like that.”

He nodded, reaching his decision. The important thing wasn’t what she wore—it was how Clarisse would be treated in this estate.

“You will be imprisoned here until you are eighteen,” he warned the child in case she had forgotten.

“I will live here quietly, and I will not have any birthday parties.”

When Clarisse repeated the agreed-upon terms, the duke nodded with satisfaction. There was no reason to dislike bright, obedient little children.

“That’s right. And to do that, nothing harmful must happen to you.”

Afterward, Maximilian provided Clarisse with a “prison cell” that would keep her safe as she grew to be the age of eighteen. To Clarisse’s surprise, it was a children’s bedroom that was quite close to the duke and duchess’s bedroom. It had been set aside for their own child someday.

“Th-this is much too extravagant for me. I do not deserve this, Your Grace.”

The duke calmly explained why he had chosen this room. “Don’t focus on how it looks—think of its practicality. It’s on the second floor, so it will prevent you from trying to flee through the window.”

“I will not run away.”

“As long as you’re my captive, I must prepare for every possibility. There are always soldiers standing guard in the second-floor corridor as well.”

The duke nodded with a satisfied look as he grabbed some chunks of chopped wood from a pile in the corner of the room and tossed them into the fireplace. The embers burned brighter, radiating with warmth.

“Thus, this room is the perfect cell for a captive here at the Sheridan Estate.”

“The perfect prison…” Clarisse muttered after him.

Meanwhile, Rosalie returned with a thick cotton blanket and held it out for the duke to inspect. He touched it and nodded.

“It may be best to give her one of the lighter ones. We cannot have her crushed by a heavy blanket before she turns eighteen.”