Chapter 24
“Ninety-nine… handkerchiefs?”
“Indeed. I’m due to meet the knights formally tomorrow, and I wish to present them with a token of appreciation.”
A stunned silence fell over the room.
Leon and Norton appeared deeply moved, but the staff at the tailor shop stared in outright disbelief.
Madam’s face clouded with concern.
“Completing that many in a single day… it would prove challenging.”
I had anticipated as much. Crafting them all by hand on such short notice was impractical.
“Yet a handkerchief strikes me as the perfect choice. And delaying the meeting isn’t an option…”
Noticing my dismay, Leon interjected.
“Your Highness, why not distribute the commission across multiple tailor shops? Goldrain has several fine ones.”
“But you assured me Coutere was the finest in the North. I refuse to offer the knights anything less than exceptional.”
Madam’s voice quivered faintly.
“It’s not a matter of unwillingness, but… producing that quantity in one day would stretch us beyond our limits.”
“So it truly is impossible?”
“Even devoting ourselves entirely to this task, we couldn’t hasten a gift destined for knights of such distinction…”
She faltered, reluctant to refuse me directly.
“I see.”
“You understand?”
“If it’s beyond your capacity, there’s no helping it.”
The last thing I wanted was to burden Madam with an impossible demand.
“I ought to have accounted for the full size of the knight order earlier. That oversight is mine.”
“…My deepest apologies, Your Highness.”
Sensing her remorse, I hastened to reassure her.
“You’re aware I’m hardly the most embraced Grand Duchess, aren’t you?”
Her eyes flickered uncertainly.
“I got carried away hoping to win them over. Please, think nothing of it—I’m the one who asked too much.”
I was on the verge of abandoning the handkerchief notion when Madam clasped her hands tightly and declared with resolve.
“What sort of embroidery did you envision?”
“Embroidery?”
An idea had already taken shape.
Fetching paper and ink, I drew a bold “B” for Blenheim, embellishing it with elegant flourishes.
“Like this.”
“With such a straightforward motif… I’ll make it happen.”
After peering anxiously at my sketch, Madam steeled her decision.
“You mean it?”
“You selected Coutere for a gift carrying such significance. I intend to ensure your sentiment reaches them.”
Her staff gaped in alarm, yet fire blazed in Madam’s seasoned gaze.
“That’s wonderful, but…”
I paused, fretting over the strain it would impose.
“A single unfinished piece would undermine the entire gesture. Are you certain you can complete them by morning?”
“I won’t let you down.”
Her steadfast vow brooked no further debate.
To offset the urgency, I pledged double the standard fee. The weary workers perked up at once.
Money truly works wonders.
We swiftly settled on fabric, dimensions, and thread hues before I departed.
“I entrust it to you.”
“We’ll give it everything we have.”
As I exited, Madam’s authoritative tone rang out from inside.
“Summon every hand we can muster! Double their pay! Halt all pending commissions!”
They’ll manage… won’t they?
After stops at a handful of other shops, I made my way back to the castle as dusk approached.
Leon brimmed with barely suppressed thrill.
This marked his debut in a comprehensive knight training drill.
He had cherished the dream since donning the knight’s mantle.
Each squad comprised just twelve souls.
With spots opening only upon vacancy, a young commoner like him could never predict his turn.
Yet this year, the Grand Duke had assessed the squires purely on merit and dubbed Leon the youngest knight in history.
It was a legacy his mother Marie and father Jacques could cherish across generations.
On this eagerly awaited day, he ought to have been utterly immersed. Instead, Leon struggled to focus through the morning.
For that afternoon brought the Duchess to the training grounds.
Anticipation gripped the order ahead of her arrival.
After relentless polishing, their armor gleamed with dazzling intensity.
Even those harboring grudges against the Marquis’s kin stole furtive looks toward the central keep, curiosity piqued.
It was only natural.
She was the first woman to grace the Grand Duke’s castle beyond the servants.
And those knights—like Leon—who had journeyed to the capital sang her praises without cease.
By day’s end, her admirers among the ranks will swell.
Leon affirmed the thought with a nod.
At last, the Duchess arrived, flanked by attendants and retainers.
Her entrance shattered the knights’ concentration on drills.
The Grand Duke himself strode forth without delay to welcome her.
Captains traded astonished glances.
The husband who never uttered her name now escorted her personally, elucidating every detail at her side.
Captain Hedrick, ever the picture of poise, could only shake his head in wonder.
His call for respite drew the knights into formation with unprecedented speed.
Loic conducted the Duchess to the forefront.
The men’s eyes widened in shock.
Did the commander… grasp a woman’s hand?
That paled beside the true revelation.
A… vision divine?
Her lustrous golden tresses swept upward, her eyes crinkling with gentle warmth in her smile—the Duchess was utterly captivating.
At Hedrick’s order, the knights snapped to salute as one.
“We salute Your Highness!”
She regarded them with poised grace.
“A delight to meet at last the guardians of Blenheim.”
Her eyes, vivid as sapphires, sparkled with sincere affection.
“Better late than never, I’m thrilled to encounter you all. I imagine the gossip about me has been relentless—and rarely flattering.”
A handful of knights coughed self-consciously.
“But I stand here now as Blenheim’s own, committed to proving myself a fitting Grand Duchess. I ask only for your patience.”
Murmurs rippled as the knights swapped baffled stares amid her words.
Isn’t she the capital’s notorious villainess?
Rumors called her a false saint… yet she radiates true holiness!
She embodies spring’s enchanting sprite!
Impossible! One so radiant can’t be that reviled Marquis’s daughter!
Whispers buzzed among the ranks, while wedding attendees stood triumphant, their smirks proclaiming, Told you.
As the Grand Duchess concluded, Loic raked his piercing stare across the assembly.
“Henceforth, the Grand Duchess wields authority equal to mine in routine matters. Disobedience, discourtesy, or defiance of her commands equates to treason against me.”
The declaration carried a stark edge of caution.
“For security, her well-being supersedes my own. Without fail.”
Hedrick’s gaze twitched, though he held his tongue.
The knights erupted in a thunderous chorus, their acclaim resounding across the field.
Then the Grand Duchess addressed him once more.
“Your Grace, I’ve arranged a modest token…”
At her subtle cue, a servant advanced with a laden basket.
When did she manage this?
Touched, Loic moved to dispatch a knight for it when—
“I’d prefer to distribute them personally, to acquaint myself with each of you. If that’s permissible?”
Her smile beamed with innocent delight.
“By hand?”
Loic wavered briefly, then yielded to the eagerness in her expression.
“Form lines by division, commencing with the First.”
As they queued, she called abruptly—
“Sir Theor?”
Producing a pristine parcel, she summoned a knight by name.
“Y-Yes, Your Highness!”
The veteran, occupied with squire drills, jolted to attention and hurried up.
Knights—and Loic himself—gaped in surprise.
How does she know their names?
