Ch#59
“I’ve passed the usual age for staying at the orphanage, but the director’s kindly letting me remain a little longer.”
Jerome offered a sheepish grin, likely because I’d been gazing at him for too long.
He probably assumed I was wondering why a young man his age hadn’t left the orphanage yet.
“I understand.”
Here in this land, sixteen must count as old enough to enter society.
The orphanage couldn’t house grown-ups indefinitely, after all.
Even so, preparing to venture out so young felt startling.
Peach fuzz still dusted his cheeks.
He struck me as clever and polite.
If he lacked a destination, perhaps he could find a position at the Grand Duke’s estate…
But I had no authority to extend such an invitation myself, so I held my tongue.
“Your Grace?”
The orphanage director appeared in the backyard after my silence stretched on.
“It’s time to depart.”
Ignoring the children’s crestfallen complaints, Cecilia instructed the knights to ready themselves for the journey.
As I approached the carriage, the children rushed out for a final farewell.
“Don’t leave!”
Artis, who’d been sulking for some time, suddenly clutched at my skirt.
“Please stay!”
“I want to come too!”
Oh no.
The same children who’d been giggling moments before now clung to me, faces streaked with tears.
I’d arrived with the best of intentions, of course.
Yet perhaps the sudden comings and goings stung them more deeply.
With more little ones latching onto my skirt, the director appeared on the verge of collapse.
“Cease that! Do you realize the cost of that gown?”
“Hush.”
I pressed a finger to my lips to quiet him, then knelt to embrace the cluster of weeping children.
This hadn’t been in the plan, but…
“You received plenty of toys, dolls, and books today, didn’t you? Take good care of them, and I’ll return to visit.”
“Really?”
“I still don’t want you to leave!”
“If you vow not to quarrel, to obey your teachers, and to heed Jerome as well…”
Only after I pledged my return several times did their fingers begin to unclench.
The director and teachers hastened to pry the children away with gentle insistence.
“They’re simply fond of you, Your Grace,” Jerome said apologetically, scooping up Artis—the final holdout—from my skirt.
“It’s merely the novelty of a newcomer.”
Amid the director’s flustered chaos, I at last climbed into the carriage.
Tiern extended his hand to assist me, though his face bore an unusual cast.
What was this?
His striking brows knit in a deep scowl—he clearly disapproved of the scene.
Jealous of the children’s affection for me, perhaps?
Serves him right.
Children always sense true kindness.
I hid a smug smile as the carriage lurched forward.
“Your Grace, shall we stop at the inn while we’re here?”
“Why not?”
Cecilia’s recipes had surged in fame, drawing crowds to the place.
As the originator of the “daily special” concept, the inn bustled so fiercely they’d added outdoor seating.
After bidding the children farewell, a strange weight settled in my chest.
A steaming bowl of fiery tomato stew might just lift it.
Idly, I drew back the curtain to peer outside.
We’d veered from the main thoroughfare onto a dim side street.
Then it struck me—a piercing stare.
Glancing about, I caught townsfolk glaring straight at the carriage.
Our motion blurred their features.
Yet the hostility in those eyes was unmistakable: icy, brimming with contempt and disdain.
Was this my first true outing under knightly guard?
The venom aimed at “the Grand Duchess’s carriage” choked the air.
I let the curtain fall shut.
Perhaps I imagined it, but whispers seemed to drift in too.
“The Grand Duchess… that wench… a marquis’s spawn… the nerve…”
Amid the clatter of hooves, mocking voices reverberated in my mind.
Pressure squeezed my ribs. I forced steady breaths.
“Your Grace, are you well?”
Cecilia, sensing the shift, regarded me with worry.
“I’m all right. Let’s forgo the inn today. Straight back to the estate.”
“Of course, Your Grace.”
The inn would teem with even more onlookers.
The thought of their stares and murmurs alone…
Jacques would surely panic.
Above all, I couldn’t bear Tiern or the knights witnessing my distress.
Cecilia rapped sharply on the carriage wall, relaying the altered route to the driver, who wheeled us around.
“Are you truly fine, Your Grace? Shall I summon the physician upon our return?”
“It’s nothing. Just a touch of queasiness.”
Reading the tension, Cecilia shifted topics.
“Will you return to the orphanage?”
“I gave my word.”
The orphanage’s barren yard flickered in my thoughts as I replied.
“A nearby meadow or wood would be perfect for a picnic with them. Though that might mean traveling quite a distance?”
“…Oh!”
Cecilia paused, then clapped with sudden inspiration.
“There’s Lake Valpide, not far from Goldrain!”
“A lake?”
It evoked the vista from my arrival carriage ride.
Beyond the descent from the Grand Duke’s castle lay a vast expanse of water.
“It’s off-limits at present,” Cecilia added with a grimace.
“The lake and surrounding grounds are Blenheim property. Likely fenced in too.”
Even from afar, its scale had awed me.
Private holdings on that magnitude impressed.
Cecilia’s eyes gleamed anew.
“His Grace might grant access if you request it?”
“From the Grand Duke?”
She scooted closer, brimming with zeal.
“He’d never refuse you!”
A lake promised endless fun for the children…
Lost in the notion, I heard Cecilia blurt, “Perfect! A spring picnic there!”
Her gaze danced with delight.
“I’ll have Berni whip up heaps of sandwiches. Just the two of us—a breath of fresh air. Sound good?”
“Only us? And the children?”
“Spring’s here, and you’ve yet to enjoy a real outing, Your Grace,” she huffed, lips pursed.
“We can take them later if it suits.”
Fair enough—we’d need to scout the site first.
The Grand Duke might have sealed it for good cause, like the greenhouse.
‘I’ll seek his approval regardless.’
“Boats must dot the shore, no? Shall we row?”
Her enthusiasm bordered on feverish.
I cocked my head, mildly taken aback.
“Didn’t realize you were such an outing enthusiast.”
“Parasol or wide hat—which to pack?”
She prattled on, ignoring me entirely.
Observing her rapture—even the anticipatory lip-lick—I shot her a wary glance.
Cecilia averted her eyes, busted.
“Cecilia.”
At my soft summons, she spilled the truth.
“Truth is, Lady Meisel’s been dying to visit the lake. She wouldn’t shut up about it.”
“Lady Meisel?”
“She even begged Count Avoir to escort her, but no entry.”
Cecilia’s lips twisted in sly triumph.
‘Heavens… my maid harbors a grudge against Meisel too.’
“She’ll turn green if she learns we went!”
The glee bordered on manic.
I tsked under my breath.
No mystery, then, behind her lake fixation.
“Cecilia. I am the Grand Duchess.”
I smoothed my attire and spoke evenly, with warmth.
“Petty motives won’t guide my actions.”
“…”
“I’ll consult the Grand Duke.”
Our gazes locked, and laughter bubbled up from us both.
That evening, I slipped into the Grand Duke’s office.
“Your Grace, are you occupied?”
Peering through the door, I caught his startled look.
“Not at all. Please, enter.”
A touch flustered, he soon called for tea.
“How fared the orphanage visit?”
I recounted the day in detail.
His cheeks colored faintly at my note on the dreary surroundings; he fidgeted with his cup.
“That falls on me. I haven’t stopped by since its completion.”
“How is it your doing? Duties must overwhelm you.”
In reality, the curse likely barred him.
“I’ll handle the orphanage going forward. Leave it to me.”
I thumped my chest with assurance. A gentle smile curved his lips.
“Call on me whenever aid is needed.”
“As it happens, I have a favor to request.”
I broached the lake with care.
“Lake Valpide?”
“Precisely. It’s restricted, I hear.”
I faltered slightly.
“…Might I view it sometime?”
“The lake itself?”
“Yes. It seemed stunning from the hillside.”
“It’s… quite lovely,” he murmured, massaging his brow. Trouble shadowed his features.
“My tomorrow’s packed.”
“…?”
‘I wasn’t angling for his company!’
Hands half-raised to clarify, I checked myself.
No sense flustering him further.
“No matter. If you’re tied up, Cecilia and I will—”
Abruptly, the Grand Duke’s palm slammed the desk.
“Tonight suits!”
“…Pardon?”
“I’m… not swamped this evening. Shall we go now?”
‘Tonight?’
I blinked, ears ringing.
Dusk already cloaked the sky.