Previously
Dowager Marchioness Lindinis publicly defends Dolores's etiquette and pointedly embarrasses Angelica, forcing her to flee the gathering in humiliation. At the Lancaster residence, Dolores recovers her resolve while tending to Nina and learning from Rachel about the Dowager Marchioness's remarks.
During the social season in the capital, parties went on late into the night.
Older gentlewomen, however, tended to favor a leisurely stroll along the breezy promenade in the cool of the evening over revelry.
And so it was, after Dolores’s carriage circled the Central Promenade several times—
“Dowager Marchioness!”
“Your Highness the Grand Duchess.”
Having finally found the person she was looking for, Dolores hurried down from the carriage.
The elderly lady had halted her evening walk, flanked by two of her maids.
“What a coincidence. I was under the impression this was quite in the opposite direction from the Lancaster residence.”
“I came this way on purpose… to offer my thanks.”
“Hmph.”
The Dowager Marchioness gave a faint shrug, then resumed her leisurely stroll, gazing straight ahead.
Dolores fell into step beside her and murmured softly,
“I heard you had kind words to say about me at today’s gathering.”
“I was hardly taking your side. I simply disliked having a rare, pleasant salon spoiled.”
“Ah.”
“Though, of course, this old woman thinks your conduct went rather too far, as well.”
“…”
With that, the conversation lapsed into silence.
Dolores paced impatiently inside her own mind.
How could she steer this exchange to her advantage?
How could she nudge the matriarch into naming the Grand Duke’s adjutant as her heir?
‘Think. Wring out every scrap of knowledge you possess!’
Before the Grand Duke could strangle this woman’s finances through cruel means.
Dolores cast anxious sidelong glances at her.
‘What should I do? What can I bring up—’
Today, too, the Dowager Marchioness wore a mourning brooch.
The onyx brooch gleamed somberly in the glow of the setting sun.
Seeing it made Dolores’s lips move of their own accord.
“…If I may be so bold, Dowager Marchioness.”
“Yes, Your Highness the Grand Duchess.”
“May I ask whose memory the brooch honors?”
“All of my family.”
“…”
“One is far easier to care for than pinning on a bothersome cluster of them.”
The older woman answered with total calm, but the sheer weight of her words struck Dolores dumb.
‘All of her family.’
…The Margrave’s line had not originally been sparse in kin.
Yet a pestilence had wiped out three generations of the direct line in a single breath.
‘Leaving no one behind except this old woman.’
Though it was a fact she had already known, hearing it directly from the woman herself made it sink in with chilling reality.
And it would not be limited to her husband’s kin alone.
Those who had brought her into the world, her brothers, her sisters.
The peers with whom she could share fond reminiscences of her youth, and even the servants who had long remained by her side, had all preceded her in death.
And now, everyone in high society was eagerly awaiting her demise.
‘…And I am one of them.’
All for the sake of securing a life of her own freedom.
Dolores felt her heart sinking ever colder.
Just then, the noblewoman stopped in her tracks and stared intently at Dolores.
“During the salon, you kept looking toward where I sat, Your Highness.”
“I did.”
“And the Grand Duke’s adjutant is a kinsman of my late husband.”
“Yes, that is also true.”
“If you have sought me out over the matter of the succession, I am afraid I cannot offer an answer in your favor.”
“…”
“For an old woman nearing her grave can hardly look kindly upon vultures circling around her.”
“…Yes, everything you say is correct.”
So that was it.
Dolores finally understood, and a hollow smile surfaced on her lips.
‘Grand Duke, I may fail… but you will fail as well.’
In her previous life, the Grand Duke had surely attempted to choke the matriarch’s breath with debt just the same.
Yet back then, the Dowager Marchioness had died of old age.
Without ever naming a successor to the very end.
‘Rather than beg, she chose to die in proud solitude.’
It would be no different this time.
…Only after grasping that truth could she finally see the woman as a living being.
Not merely someone to court for political gain, but a fellow human being burdened by the exact same feelings.
“My lady. Just as you said, I initially intended to greet you because of the succession.”
“Oh?”
“However, that is no longer the case.”
“Then what is it?”
“Now, I truly wish to ask about you.”
“Such as what, for instance?”
“Well… For instance… What kind of person…”
Dolores murmured, her eyes lingering on the mourning ornament.
“…would you like me to remember you as?”
“Hm. How interesting. How I wish to be remembered, you say.”
“Everyone must have at least one such thing. A cherished time in the past… that one wishes others to know.”
Before facing death, would anyone not wonder how they would be remembered by those left behind?
In that regard, Dolores herself was an utter failure.
Before her eyes lay the lush greenery of the promenade.
Yet the bloodcurdling outcries still rang vivid in her ears.
‘Kill that madwoman!’
‘She is the Empress who tried to poison the Crown Prince!’
…Dolores managed a bitter smile.
Once her head had fallen from her shoulders, had anyone truly grieved for her?
‘Was there ever even a single person…?’
The Dowager Marchioness gazed quietly at the woman wearing that bitter smile.
She found it truly wondrous.
Dolores appeared on the outside to be a woman who had only just wed, yet she looked also like an old, weary soul clawing her way through an overwhelming despair.
‘Which is precisely why she stirred my pity.’
It had pained her heart, as though she were watching someone who, just like herself, was already waiting for the appointed day of her death.
Even so, the matriarch flashed a subtly haughty smile at Dolores’s suggestion.
“Very well… Then allow me the indulgence of boasting before Your Highness of the days when I was the fairest beauty in high society.”
No matter how old one grew, the days of one’s own brilliance remained forever vivid.
Late that night, after Dolores had returned.
“Her Highness the Grand Duchess made contact with the Dowager Marchioness.”
“…”
Resurreccion was listening to Sothis’s report in his office.
Sothis was a lithe man with skin bronzed deeper than the Grand Duke’s own, and sharp, silver eyes.
Resurreccion had kept Sothis shadowing Dolores.
“Ha… What did the two of them discuss?”
“I kept my distance and could not catch everything they said.”
“…”
“However, it appeared they parted on amicable terms at the end.”
“Tsk.”
Resurreccion clicked his tongue in irritation.
‘What good does it do at this point?’
She was probably scheming to undo what was already ruined.
‘Not that it will work.’
For he would soon begin his operation to squeeze the Dowager Marchioness’s funds dry.
Just then, Edwin came rushing in.
“Your Highness! Your Highness!”
“What is it?”
“Lord Oswald…! He has received a summons from the Dowager Marchioness!”
“What?”
“He was told to attend alongside a legal advisor. It must be her naming the successor!”
“Go quickly and back him up.”
The man had no backbone of his own and would be waiting helplessly for orders from the Grand Duke.
Edwin nodded.
“I have already issued instructions as prepared. Furthermore, a message arrived for Your Highness as well, directly from the Dowager Marchioness.”
“…For me?”
Resurreccion had never had any direct dealings with Dowager Marchioness Lindinis.
Yet the letter Edwin held out was unmistakably addressed to him.
He swiftly scanned the slender cursive handwriting.
[…I send this under the assumption that Your Highness will know immediately once word from me reaches Oswald.
I had nothing to offer those who sought me out only after my husband was in the ground.
And I am well aware that Oswald is, in truth, no different.
Yet, this foolish old woman has made her decision, swayed by warmth.
It would surely be best to entrust matters to one tied to a person I have come to care for.
Therefore, I ask only that you guide and counsel that inadequate fellow well as he leads the territory.
P.S. I look forward to taking tea and conversing with Her Highness the Grand Duchess again soon.]
It was absurd.
As Edwin read through the letter as well, a dry, incredulous chuckle escaped Resurreccion.
“Ha. What is this nonsense?”
“Well, now. Does this mean the Dowager Marchioness made up her mind after speaking with Her Highness…?”
“…”
Don’t state the bleeding obvious.
When Resurreccion snapped at him with a lethal glare, Edwin tucked his tail between his legs of his own accord.
Instead, he changed the subject.
“Th-Then I will make preparations to assist Lord Oswald.”
“Very well. Use that place as a foothold to plant our people in Bedford and Islington as well.”
“Yes, Your Highness! But… are you content to leave the atmosphere with Her Highness as it is?”
“…”
The ‘shamelessly infatuated newlyweds’ currently gave off a frosty, discordant air.
If Adrian caught wind of it and meddled, things could get tedious fast.
“Haaah.”
“Perhaps giving Her Highness something she likes to lighten the mood…?”
“The only thing I know of is that rose.”
Resurreccion thought of the ‘Brillant Rose.’
It was the single thing he knew that Dolores liked.
Which was why he had coaxed and pressured the imperial gardener into transplanting several whole bushes to the back of their garden.
Yet Edwin pressed on persistently.
“Then what about presenting her with a new piece of jewelry—”
“…”
“My apologies. I shall return to my duties.”
Watching Edwin’s retreating back as he hastily fled, Resurreccion tousled his own hair in frustration.
‘Do I really have to go this far? Why?’