A Mastermind? No, I'm just the Live-In Son-in-Law-Chapter 160: Discovered
“Milady... this is a misunderstanding.”
“......”
“I’m telling you, really—it’s just a misunderstanding!”
As Meredia, who had been staring at him in stunned silence from a distance, now strode toward him radiating deadly intent, Whitney took an uneasy step back, sweat beading down his temple.
“...What happened in there?”
“Ah, well, it’s, um...”
But Meredia didn’t stop in front of Whitney. Her feet halted beside the maid trembling violently beside him.
“Speak.”
“W-well, that is...”
Glancing nervously at Whitney, the maid forced a crooked smile onto her lips and finally spoke.
“S-Sir Whitney was just helping clean the room...”
“Why would Whitney be doing that?”
“I can explain.”
Noticing something clearly off about the maid, Meredia’s killing aura only thickened—until Whitney finally stepped in to interrupt.
“Actually, while I was speaking with the Duke, things got a little... heated.”
“...And?”
“Well, I tried to calm things down, but then the Duke suddenly threw his teacup at me and stormed out of the room.”
“Because of that, we both ended up covered in tea. Hah, just a small, silly misunderstanding.”
“......?”
“As for the maid breathing like that, I think she just got spooked and tired herself out cleaning up the shards on the floor...”
Even at a glance, Whitney’s story felt forced. But Meredia’s grimace wasn’t because of the awkward delivery—it was because of something else entirely.
‘...Got drenched in tea?’
She knew her father’s habits and tastes better than she’d like—especially considering how much she loathed him.
Which is why Meredia was immediately disturbed by the fact that the Duke had supposedly ordered regular tea instead of his usual bizarre concoctions.
‘He’s hiding something. Without a doubt.’
Her sharp intuition cut straight through the lies. Whitney was concealing something—but what?
Had he really gotten up to something with the maid in that room?
No... that didn’t quite make sense.
The Whitney Ringaarden she knew wasn’t the type. Besides, the fear in the maid’s eyes, as caught by Meredia’s gemstone gaze, wasn’t the kind of fear born from being caught in an affair—it was far too deep.
Granted, Whitney had a way of making everyone nervous, so she could chalk it up to that.
But then—what exactly were they trying to hide in that room?
“Greetings, Sir Whitney.”
“Ah.”
“It’s been a while.”
Just then, Saintess Hestia stepped forward from behind Meredia and held out a hand to Whitney.
“......”
“Sir Whitney?”
“...Hah.”
For a moment—just the briefest flicker—Whitney’s expression hardened, something incredibly rare for a man whose face usually remained fixed in a casual smile.
“What brings the Saintess to this place?”
But just as quickly, the smile returned as if it had never left, and he took her hand.
“I received an anonymous report.”
“A report, you say?”
“That Duke Embergreen’s estate is conducting suspicious black magic research.”
Whitney tilted his head slightly at her answer, then let out a wry smile.
“...So that’s what this was all leading to.”
He muttered it so low that only those nearby could hear. Meredia looked confused for a second—but then dismissed it.
“There were some minor accusations too... but seeing you like this, I guess they were false.”
“......?”
“...Though honestly, I already knew. I see you almost every day.”
Hestia’s comment was too pointed to be ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) ignored.
“What do you mean—?”
“Nothing, really. Now, what exactly happened in that room?”
Just like that, Hestia smoothly changed the subject—her voice light, but her smile uncannily reminiscent of someone else.
“May I take a look inside?”
“Oh, that room?”
“Yes. We’re obligated to search the estate given the nature of the report.”
Whitney’s expression twisted ever so slightly.
“...Amazing that the Lady of the House granted permission.”
“Indeed. Haha.”
This time, Hestia didn’t ignore his reaction—because the Paladin Commander standing beside her was also staring at Whitney with obvious suspicion.
“Well, since the Lady herself approved it, I can’t exactly stop you.”
“It’s fine. We’re just checking.”
With that, they moved to enter the room. The fully armored Commander stepped forward to open the door.
“Then, if you’ll excuse m—”
“Please wait outside.”
“...Pardon?”
Just as he reached for the doorknob, Hestia stopped him.
“In case anything happens, I need you to remain on alert out here.”
“Ah... understood.”
He immediately nodded, accepting the Saintess’s order without hesitation.
“But I’ll be going in.”
“...Milady, that might not be a great idea.”
This time, Meredia tried to move toward the room, but Whitney quickly stepped in her way.
“Why not?”
“You should be prepared as well. It would be better if you remained out here.”
Meredia glanced sideways at the Commander near the door, then reluctantly nodded.
“But that means no one’s watching the Saintess.”
“I’ll take responsibility. I’m involved in this too, after all.”
“...Fair point.”
So, with their roles decided, Whitney and Hestia stood side by side at the door.
“Then, we’ll be back shortly.”
“Haha... first room, and it’s already a challenge.”
With that, they entered together, and silence fell across the corridor.
“...Hey.”
“Eek.”
“What really happened in that room?”
In the tense quiet, Meredia turned to the maid—still trembling—and asked.
“I-I-I-I don’t know!”
“......”
“I-it’s true! Everything I said earlier!”
Watching her closely, Meredia scoffed silently.
‘So it really was a lie.’
Though her gemstone gaze was battle-focused and lacked telepathic powers, it granted her enhanced analysis and motion tracking—more than enough to determine whether someone was lying.
Humans give themselves away—eye movements, twitching facial muscles—and Meredia was well-practiced in reading idiots.
‘But... it doesn’t feel like a malicious lie.’
She could tell the maid was lying for someone else’s sake—likely for a greater cause.
‘People like this usually lie out of loyalty... but why...?’
Even if she understood that much, the root of it still escaped her.
She wanted to interrogate the girl right then and there—but the Holy Nation’s Commander was glaring daggers at her from the background.
‘Paladins are defense-focused fighters. And that one is their commander. If I tried to take him down and failed, it would be a disaster.’
She had already assumed that whatever Whitney was hiding was something that absolutely couldn’t be revealed.
In those situations, Meredia’s standard protocol was to eliminate witnesses.
But not today. Not with the Saintess and the Commander of the Holy Nation inside the estate.
Even if she could subdue both of them—unlikely—this was an official visit. The Empire and the Holy Theocracy would know exactly where Hestia had gone. If she vanished, war would break out immediately.
And there was no guarantee the zealots would stay quiet under torture, either.
‘What the hell happened in that room...?’
All she could do now was hope—pray—that Whitney and Hestia would walk out of that room without incident.
‘Wait.’
As Meredia unconsciously chewed her fingernail for the first time in ages, her eyes widened with sudden realization.
‘Where... is the Duke?’
The Duke, who had been in the room with Whitney earlier—was now nowhere to be found.
***
At that same moment, inside the guest room of House Embergreen.
“It’s surprisingly clean in here.”
“That’s not something you should say, Saintess.”
Hestia, now alone in the room with Whitney, looked around and commented cheerfully.
“No, I mean it’s too clean.”
“Excuse me?”
“Of course, this is a ducal estate, and hospitality is important. Cleanliness is expected. But this room—looks like it was cleaned less than five minutes ago.”
She ran a finger across the windowsill as she spoke.
“But here’s what’s odd—the floor’s spotless, but the walls? They’ve barely been touched. See the dust here?”
“......”
“Seems the servants here use a rather... unconventional method of cleaning.”
Her voice was gentle, but every word dripped with thorns.
“What do you think, Sir Whitney?”
“...I didn’t know you had such keen eyes.”
Whitney responded with a smooth smile, playing along.
“Cleaning was my hobby when I lived as a baron’s daughter.”
“That aside, you seem different somehow.”
“...They say power changes people.”
She shrugged lightly and stepped deeper into the room, her tone subtly lightening.
“It’s been a while. I wanted to see you again, but I’ve been terribly busy.”
“...Haha.”
“There’s been disturbing activity among black mages recently.”
At those words, Whitney flinched ever so slightly—but Hestia, turned away from him, didn’t notice.
“I see...”
“Not that that’s the only issue we’re facing.”
Still walking, still turned away from him, her tone darkened a little.
And then she stopped.
“...Hm?”
Before her stood a wardrobe—one typically used to store guests’ clothing.
“...This is...”
A red liquid had started to pool beneath it, seeping out slowly onto the floor.
“......”
A cold silence fell.
“Wait, Saintess.”
“This...”
“That is...”
Whitney’s face tightened (though he hid it well), and he rushed toward her—but Hestia moved first.
“Ah.”
Without hesitation, she extended her hand and flung the wardrobe open.
Her expression went blank.
“......”
Inside, grotesquely crammed and hanging from within—was the corpse of Duke Embergreen, a bullet wound clean through his head.
