This kind of interaction was not what Linko had expected.
She never held any hope that Emia would achieve her goals without resorting to extreme measures.
Having served nobility for years, how could she not know the true nature of this so-called noble class?
There were far too many sordid truths that simply wouldn’t hold up to scrutiny.
And yet, Emia’s carriage broke down at just the wrong moment, coincidentally running into them.
Such a clumsy coincidence, if investigated even slightly, would definitely reveal something fishy.
The task her master had entrusted to her was to deliver a message and create an opportunity for the two of them to communicate—not to stir up conflict.
[This is really frustrating…]
She complained inwardly but couldn’t help but intervene in their conversation upon hearing Flora’s obvious tone of estrangement, which was pushing the situation in a bad direction.
However, all this got her was Emia’s calm gaze.
One common trait among those in higher positions was that when they were in a good mood, even a filthy beggar could get a few friendly words from them, but when things went wrong, their default response was coldness and intimidation.
As the eldest daughter of the Delan family, Moliyaer was undoubtedly the most unhinged, but that didn’t mean the others were any more reasonable—even this second young lady, who mostly wore a smiling face.
Linko immediately respected Emia’s decision and obediently shut her mouth.
[What exactly is going on? Master, do you really allow the second young lady to act like this? Or have you made new plans and don’t need me to cooperate in advance?]
She was certain Emia’s warning carried full confidence that this matter wouldn’t cause her and Flora to lose their chance to talk.
The reason was unclear, but Linko didn’t believe such arrogant behavior, so clearly characteristic of noble elites, would bring about anything good.
Flora’s ability to influence emotions would only amplify the flaws of those scheming against her.
And if Flora was the healer who made the frostbite antidote, or anyone with a deeply inseparable connection to him, using the excuse of the coachman being poisoned to explain this accident would definitely raise her suspicions.
[Even if you really poisoned him and were prepared to silence him, what if she cured him and noticed something off from his reaction? What would you do then?]
Forget it.
Why worry so much?
She had done all she could.
After serving as a servant for so many years, she understood one principle well: masters never wanted the best, only what they most wished to do.
Whatever the outcome, it was Emia’s choice, and she would comply.
Linko felt a bit more disdain and dissatisfaction toward this young woman in the Delan family, who was considered on the same level as Moliyaer.
She no longer cared about anything else, only wondering whether the eldest young lady had deliberately leaked the information that their carriage would be the last to depart, giving her sister such an opportunity.
Flora was unaware of the subtle interaction between Linko and Emia and had no intention of paying attention.
In her impression, Moliyaer rarely returned home, and her relationships with blood relatives were uncertain.
Among the nobility, disputes over heirs were common.
Linko had already told her that many people did not get along with Moliyaer, and her sister might well be one of them.
For Emia to show a favorable attitude, it required Linko to actively create a space for their communication—meaning Emia was likely sent by the Duke of Delan specifically to contact her.
Otherwise, Flora would still have to worry about whether Moliyaer might lose her mind.
The three of them reached the carriage surrounded by guards.
Flora frowned upon seeing the coachman lying on the ground, a longsword stabbed through his chest, barely clinging to life.
“Miss, we’ve searched around and found no suspicious individuals, but the guards from the evening party did see something. Everyone in this area was knocked unconscious—probably by someone with ill intent.”
The captain of the guards immediately reported to Emia.
Flora glanced at her and noticed her momentary surprise, which didn’t seem like an act, stirring a strange feeling in her heart.
[I’m more inclined to think this carriage incident was staged by that girl herself. But what about the guards knocked unconscious? Could Moliyaer be using this as an excuse to back down? What does this mean…]
She suppressed her doubts and crouched down.
“I really don’t like seeing such bloody scenes…”
“Even if he was poisoned, that’s understandable, but other than killing him, there’s no better way to prevent an accident. Miss, I’m sorry you had to see this.”
The captain was considerate and even added that last line.
Emia wore a headache-filled expression.
She looked at Flora without speaking but clearly wanted her to respond quickly, stop staring at the dying, purpling coachman, and hurry to the banquet.
“Anyone else dead or injured?”
Flora asked lightly.
Emia paused, then nodded.
“Mostly minor injuries. Are you thinking…”
“Since it’s a banquet, it’s better to avoid any bloodshed, don’t you think?”
Flora smiled gently at her.
Only now, looking Emia in the eye face-to-face, she saw the absolutely beautiful face break into that smile, causing her to feel a little dazed.
“Y-yes.”
Emia replied instinctively, then realized she had given an unfortunate answer and glanced suspiciously at Linko.
The maid had by then grabbed Flora’s hand.
“Don’t…”
She whispered.
But Flora ignored her protest, the smile in her eyes deepening.
She reached up and touched the collar around her neck without looking away, tapping the emerald there twice with her fingertip.
[Do you understand what I mean? Moliyaer, do you want me to endure someone’s near-death suffering alone? You must be watching me now, so why not enjoy the expression of my pain?]
Her inner voice seemed to pass unimpeded to those who were always watching her.
A faint laugh, laced with mockery and anticipation, echoed in her ears.
“Fine, I said I’d respect you.”
In the evening breeze, it sounded like Moliyaer’s words—lighthearted and casual—were mingled into the air.
Flora did not dismiss it as a hallucination because the magical restraints had been lifted.
Someone really wanted to see what she was like now, and how a healer would react to such an injury.
Flora wrenched her hand free from Linko’s grasp, took off her gloves, and handed them to the anxious maid.
“What exactly is wrong with him? I guess we have to ask to find out.”
Flora said with a smile to Emia, whose face was growing pale.
“I’m sure you’re also eager to know, right?”
After speaking, she pulled out the sword stuck in the coachman’s chest, tossed it aside, and placed both hands over the wound, casting a healing spell.
The torment of poison and the searing pain piercing his chest—the coachman’s ordeal—became vividly clear to Flora as the healing progressed.
Yet her expression did not change at all.
The smile seemed frozen on her face.
This long-forgotten sensation did not bring fainting, vomiting, or loss of control—nor did it cause her to pass out.
She regretted her hasty decision.
Who would have thought that such an excruciatingly vivid pain relay would remind her of the devastating defeat their Emerald Heart squad suffered during their first giant beast hunt?
That time, Moliyaer had suffered injuries of this degree.
And all to save this healer.