Chapter 114: The Household Purge.

Chapter 114

The cold morning air settled heavily inside the high-arched windows of the Northern Fortress, where Sigrid stood poised near the foot of the sweeping stone staircase.

Yesterday’s long carriage ride back from the Windermere estate had concluded only after deep night had settled over the barren horizon—a relentless reality how far and isolated the north was. This isolation was an inexplicit exile done out of cruel malice of the imperial crown, who had banished Duke Soren to this cold borderlands under the guise of strategic importance for whatever personal reasons they held. Yet despite the distance, Soren’s missives continued to arrive with uncanny punctuality, right before she retires.

Sigrid couldn’t help but let out a quiet, inward chuckle thinking of her formidable husband. Yesterday he sent her another missive and Sigrid wondered how he was able to do so despite being busy with war. Soren was unfailingly rigid in his duties, yet profoundly dense in matters of sentiment. His strict military discipline simply would not allow him to neglect correspondence, likely entirely unaware that his soldiers only penned such frequent letters to their beloved wives or family, not to a spouse holding an arranged title.

Nonetheless, she found a strange warmth in his stubbornness. That matter can rest for now, Sigrid thought, her smirk fading into a sharp mask of resolve. I have immediate venom to purge from this household. She turned her gaze to the long, double-column assembly of servants and fortress staff lined up before her.

Stepping forward until her velvet hem brushed the cold stones, Sigrid addressed the silent crowd. "I thank you all for gathering here on such short notice, and I extend my gratitude for your past service in maintaining the Northern Fortress. However, as of this very moment, every single one of you is officially relieved of your duties."

An instant, breathless hush fell over the vaulted chamber, only to be shattered seconds later by an explosion of outraged outbursts. Indignant voices echoed off the stone walls, demanding explanations and crying out against the blatant injustice of their sudden dismissal. The chaotic commotion increased until Chester stepped forward, his hand resting heavily on the pommel of his longsword as he let out a commanding bark that instantly restored a tense silence.

Sigrid’s expression remained utterly unbothered as she surveyed the anxious faces. "I am well aware that this decision appears harsh and sudden to your eyes, yet my choice is final and absolute. You will return to your quarters, gather your personal belongings, and vacate the fortress grounds before dusk. There are ample opportunities for employment within the northern town, should you seek them."

Fresh mutterings of discontent rippled through the ranks, though most servants kept their complaints restrained under Chester’s stern watch. Yet, near the back of the line, a sharp voice scoffed loudly, "You are a mere Duchess who arrived scant weeks ago! Only His Grace, the Duke, possesses the proper authority to dismiss the entire household!"

Sigrid turned slowly toward the source of the insolence, her deep crimson eyes locking onto a mid-ranking footman. She walked toward him with dangerous grace, her icy gaze bearing down until the man visibly withered. "Speak louder," Sigrid commanded softly, her voice slicing through the chill room. "Repeat what you just declared before your peers."

The footman swallowed hard, cowering beneath her unwavering stare as sweat beaded along his brow. "I... I merely meant that Your Grace has resided within this fortress for less than two months," he stammered, his bravado instantly evaporating. "Is it not remarkably irrational to replace every loyal servant in the citadel during the Duke’s absence, when none of us have committed any fault?"

"You raise an interesting point," Sigrid replied, her tone dripping with quiet sarcasm. "However, the underlying reasons for my domestic management are entirely beyond your concern. The Duke is my lawful husband, and before his departure, he made it abundantly clear to every living soul in this territory that full command of the fortress rests in my hands. Therefore, I shall exercise that authority precisely as I see fit. You are correct that none of you have committed an overt misdeed against me personally. However, you were all stationed here when Soren resided in isolation. Now that I am the mistress of this stronghold, I deem it essential to handpick my household staff with my very own hands."

For all I know, Sigrid reasoned internally as she turned back to the crowd, half of these unfamiliar faces could be spies plotting my sudden demise. They harbor no deep-rooted loyalty to Soren’s bloodline like his soldiers do, and any one of them could have been bought by the capital to act as an assassin. Addressing the trembling staff once more, she raised her chin. "To ensure your smooth transition, every dismissed worker shall receive a severance payment of three solid gold bars upon their exit."

Gasping exclamations echoed through the atrium as the servants exchanged wide-eyed, stunned looks. Three bars of solid imperial gold was an extraordinary sum—enough to secure a comfortable life for years without the burden of labor. "Consider this a final gesture of goodwill," Sigrid added smoothly, "so that none may claim they were cast into the winter cold to starve."

As the overwhelmed servants began breaking ranks to pack their belongings in hushed disbelief, Lilith stepped closer to Sigrid, her hands fidgeting nervously with her apron. "Milady... with the entire household dismissed, who shall take up the mantle of head maid? And how shall we manage the recruitment of new staff without leaving you unattended?"

Sigrid offered her faithful attendant a mischievous, reassuring. "You shall assume the position of head maid, Lilith."

Lilith gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. "M-Me? Head maid over the entire fortress?"

"It is only natural that my most loyal and trusted maiden takes charge of the household," Sigrid stated firmly. "Do not fret over the workload; I have no intention of letting you exhaust yourself. I shall arrange for proper assistance soon enough. Knowing full well how tiring it would be attending to me and the castle affairs."

Sigrid then leaned toward Chester, her voice dropping to an imperceptible whisper. "Ensure every last one of them vacates the gates without lingering. Do not permit anyone to wander into the private quarters under the guise of packing."

Chester gave a single, resolute nod before marching off to supervise the exit. Turning to her second guard, Sigrid added, "Maude, accompany him and secure the perimeter."

"By your command, mistress," Maude bowed low before swiftly following Chester toward the courtyard.

"Come, Lilith. Let us return upstairs," Sigrid instructed, sweeping up the grand staircase toward her personal chambers. Upon entering her bedchamber, she immediately sat at her writing desk, dipping a feather quill into dark blue ink. She penned a swift, letter addressed directly to her ally in the capital saying: Marquess, I send this urgent missive to ensure that the lingering scandals surrounding Maria and Ragnar remain ablaze within the high court gazettes. Do not allow their names to leave the lips of the nobility. She would make sure that they would never see the end to this scandal and it will only go worse from here.

She carefully folded the parchment, sealing it with dark red wax stamped with her personal crest. Standing up from her desk, Sigrid gathered the letter and motioned for Lilith to follow as she headed back down toward the main foyer. I must thoroughly weed out every rotten root within my circle before the capital makes its next grand move, she contemplated grimly as her slippers clicked against the stone steps.

Reaching the bottom of the staircase, she found Chester waiting near the heavy oak doors. He bowed deeply as she approached. "Every member of the former household has been paid and escorted beyond the outer iron gates, Your Grace."

"Excellently done," Sigrid praised, handing the sealed letter over to Maude, who had just returned from patrolling the perimeter. "Maude, deliver this letter directly to the Marquess. Ensure it reaches his hands alone, and reveal nothing of our current affairs here in the North."

"It shall be done immediately, Your Grace," Maude pledged, tucking the parchment securely into her leather doublet before slipping out into the cold morning air.

Once Maude had departed, Chester took a cautious step closer to Sigrid, his brow furrowed with deep concern. Leaning in, he whispered in a barely audible tone, "Your Grace... while overseeing the dismissal, I noticed several servants leaving with unusually heavy, dark expressions. Their eyes held no gratitude for the gold, only suppressed malice."

Sigrid’s expression remained untroubled. "Is that not entirely expected, Chester? They were just stripped of their livelihoods by an arrogant new Duchess whom they view as an outsider."

"No, Your Grace... this looked far more sinister than mere resentment," Chester insisted quietly, his hand instinctively tightening over his hilt. "That was the quiet glare of men who harbor hidden motives."

Sigrid’s crimson eyes narrowed sharply, her relaxed demeanor vanishing as a cold, calculating demeanor settled around her. "Then we shall operate under the assumption that an attack is planned for tonight."

"Most likely, Your Grace. Shall I call for round the men?" Chester asked, his posture tensing for battle.

"There is no need to raise a public alarm," Sigrid replied coolly, a smirk touching her lips. "All I want is that you do as I say."