Previously
Haunted by a vision of Alexis and her past execution, Dolores loses her composure and punishes Countess Trevis by caning her shins in front of the horrified salon guests. She calmly concludes the gathering, leaving the attendees terrified by her unexpected ferocity.
Unlike Madame Rouare’s drawing room, where genial laughter flowed after the salon, a chilling silence hung over the Lancaster estate.
“…”
“…”
Resurreccion and Dolores sat facing each other in the study, lips firmly pressed shut.
Standing beside his lord, Edwin broke into a cold sweat.
‘Please, one of you, just say something!’
Long before Dolores returned home, word of the incident had already reached Resurreccion’s ears.
And the two had remained locked in silence ever since.
The quiet shattered only when Resurreccion’s lips curled into a sneer.
“Well, aren’t you magnificent?”
“…”
“Far from winning the Dowager Marchioness’s favor, you seem poised to star in every noblewoman’s nightmares across the empire, Lady Dolly.”
Dolores shut her trembling eyes.
…At the time, she had swung the cane convinced it was the right thing to do.
‘If I were the Crown Princess instead of the Grand Duchess, Countess Trevis never would have dared behave like that.’
Yet because of that impulse, she had lost sight of the greater objective.
“I failed… I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.”
“…!”
Dolores jerked her head up at the unexpected softness in his tone.
His voice sounded infinitely gentle, instantly easing the tension knotted in her shoulders.
‘What is this? Is he… comforting me?’
She had never imagined the Grand Duke possessed such a side.
Yet the moment she looked directly into those golden eyes, her heart froze anew.
Not a trace of disappointment flickered in his gaze.
Only a flat indifference lingered there, as though he were merely looking at an inconvenient stone along the roadside.
“I never expected anything from you in the first place.”
“Pardon…?”
“I never thought we’d secure the Lindinis succession through you.”
“B-But you said you were backing the Viscount of Lindinis. And that to do so, we needed the Dowager Marchioness’s—”
“I am backing him. But winning her favor isn't the only way.”
“What do you… mean?”
“The old lady is perched up there, taking her sweet time picking an heir. All we have to do is force her to cling to one man.”
Dolores’s face hardened in shock.
“How…?”
“The debts from the farming season are coming due soon, aren’t they?”
“…!”
With those words, his intentions became chillingly clear.
Lindinis was an agricultural powerhouse blessed with fertile soil.
Consequently, whenever the peak farming season arrived, they borrowed heavily from various sources to supplement their short labor supply.
It was necessary to secure equipment and hire additional hands, but…
“Unfortunately, every party the old lady owes will soon be pressing for immediate repayment. All at once.”
“Are those parties… in debt to your merchant guild?”
“Well, let’s say I arranged it that way. The Dowager Marchioness will have no choice but to beg the cadet branches for help.”
“W-Wait.”
“And Oswald will be the only one left capable of mobilizing that kind of coin.”
Dolores’s pupils trembled slightly.
The elderly woman wore mourning stones of black jet for her dead family.
With no one left by her side to lend a helping hand…
“Are you saying… you intend to force a seventy-year-old woman to beg?”
“Beg?”
His golden eyes sharpened like a drawn blade.
“I’m simply narrowing her choices down to one.”
“Still—!”
“It came to this because your method failed, Dolly.”
His dispassionate declaration rendered Dolores speechless.
Watching her, Resurreccion let out an irritated sigh.
“What’s that look for? What did you expect? You knew I needed Lindinis when you proposed this marriage in the first place.”
“…”
“Enough. Go to your room and rest.”
Dolores stood without a word.
She felt as though someone had struck her across the head.
Once the Grand Duchess had stepped outside, Edwin finally sucked in the breath he had been desperately holding.
“Gasp… Cough.”
“Why were you holding your breath?”
“B-Because I’m an ordinary man, Your Highness.”
To watch such a radiant beauty turn pale with devastation in real time…
For a man of Edwin’s ordinary constitution, it was sheer torture to endure.
Resurreccion dragged a hand over his dry face and exhaled.
The thought of smoothing over Count Trevis’s impending fury already brought on a headache.
“Never mind that. Prepare things the way I outlined.”
“Yes, the groundwork is already laid… You truly never believed in her plan from the start, did you?”
The idea that the Grand Duchess could win the Marchioness’s favor and secure the land peacefully.
Resurreccion shrugged.
“I already told you, Edwin. I don’t trust that woman.”
“Then why go this far for her?”
Edwin thought back on everything that had led them here.
Though settled haphazardly, an imperial marriage was hardly some casual promise exchanged between commoners.
Resurreccion rubbed his eyes, overcome by a wave of fatigue.
“If someone made a scene threatening to throw themselves off a terrace, wouldn’t you appease them for the moment?”
Setting aside how suspicious everything she spouted had sounded.
‘She’s better off alive than dead.’
Expecting anything genuine from her, however, was another matter entirely.
Stepping out into the hallway, he noticed a maid standing quietly outside his bedchamber.
The woman had a short black bob, a face he had never seen in this estate.
“Who’s that?”
“Ah! She is the palace maid Countess Trevis struck during the salon.”
“…Why is she here?”
“They say she followed Her Highness the Grand Duchess back after the salon ended.”
“I’m asking why.”
“What fate would await her if she stayed in the imperial palace, Your Highness…?”
Even with the Grand Duchess stepping in to defend her, a maid in her position had a predictable end.
She would be cast onto the streets without a letter of recommendation, or worse, beaten to death by senior attendants.
Knowing that full well, Resurreccion could only click his tongue.
“Hah. Fine, whatever.”
That chatterbox Rachel would have neither the skill nor the inclination to soothe Dolores.
‘Let her take comfort in keeping that maid around.’
For right now, he had no desire to look Dolores in the face.
He expected nothing from her.
Thus, he felt no disappointment.
So why had she looked at him with such disappointment, stirring up this unpleasant irritation within him?
In a relationship that was nothing but lies from the very beginning.
Just as the Grand Duke had predicted, Rachel had not the slightest intention of consoling her mistress.
Instead, she was thoroughly preoccupied with attending other people's tea parties.
Today, she had joined an intimate tea gathering hosted by Madame Rouare in the imperial gardens.
Rachel surveyed the attendees, marveling inwardly.
‘Goodness. Only high-ranking ladies were invited.’
Beginning with Dowager Marchioness Lindinis, many wives clinging close because of their husbands’ distant lineage were in attendance.
Just then, one of the noblewomen tilted her head as she looked at Rachel.
“Oh, Lady Kirkland. That ring isn’t a piece I’ve seen on you before.”
“Oh, haha. This?”
Rachel bashfully raised her hand to show off the ruby ring.
It was an accessory she had quietly pinched from Dolores’s jewelry box.
“It was handed down to me by my mother. Doesn’t it have an antique charm?”
“It truly does… It’s simply lovely.”
Rachel puffed up, savoring a thrill of satisfaction.
Dolores never wore jewelry around the estate except in the evening when she met her husband.
And in the meantime, Rachel had been quietly ‘borrowing’ the Grand Duchess’s finery.
At that moment, another guest piped up.
“By the way, how are things between the Grand Duchess and His Highness the Grand Duke?”
“Fufu. Are you curious?”
Rachel lowered her voice into a whisper that was intentionally loud enough for everyone to hear. The women leaned in instinctively.
“Those two don’t even keep separate bedchambers. They spend the entire day locked in the same room. As for what they’re doing… fufu.”
“My goodness!”
“And when the Grand Duke wraps that enormous frame around the Grand Duchess, she is completely swallowed in his embrace! Why, he even pinned her down on the floor!”
“Good heavens, oh my, oh my.”
“Watching them kiss… Heavens, I felt as though I were being devoured myself just looking on.”
“Heavens!”
Flushes rose on every cheek at the thought of Resurreccion.
Though shunned for his mixed blood, there was no denying he was a magnificent specimen of a man.
Picturing that muscular figure embracing a woman left them with dry throats.
Seated at the same table, however, Angelica let out a heavy sigh.
“Still, the Grand Duke must be furious, wouldn’t he? It was Sister’s… no, Her Highness the Grand Duchess’s first time hosting a salon, after all…”
Angelica painted a troubled expression across her face.
Considering her own prospects, the worried look came entirely naturally.
“Sister… I mean, Her Highness must have found the salon terribly trying. It could have concluded on such a pleasant note, too.”
At her words, the other women nodded subtly in agreement.
“I took her for a gentle lady, but it seems she has quite the rough streak.”
“Hoho, perhaps she caught it from living with the Grand Duke.”
“Could it not be her true nature? That must be why His Highness the Crown Prince cast her aside.”
“Calling her the Diamond of the Empire feels rather embarrassing now.”
Right on cue, Angelica dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.
“The fault lies largely with me. When Sister was thrown into chaos after such a hasty wedding, I should have helped her, even in some small way.”
Madame Rouare, seated beside her, patted Angelica’s hand gently.
“Miss Rochester has such a sweet heart. Covering for her sister’s shortcomings like this.”
“…”
“By the way, what are your thoughts on the matter, Dowager Marchioness Lindinis?”
Ignoring Angelica’s discreet glare, Madame Rouare turned toward the matriarch.
Having moved in high society the longest among them, the Dowager Marchioness possessed an unmatched knowledge of court etiquette.
Her intention was to tear Dolores down under the guise of seeking the elder’s esteemed counsel.
“You witnessed it yourself at the salon that day. What did you make of the Grand Duchess’s conduct?”
“…Well.”
Dowager Marchioness Lindinis replied with a placid expression.
“I cannot say.”
A sudden quiet descended over the garden.
Madame Rouare’s smile twitched precariously.
When spoken by someone wielding true power, saying ‘I cannot say’ was no different from saying, ‘You are mistaken.’