Good heavens!
"June 16. Patek delivered."
The wristwatch, the young lady's last gift, was scheduled to be delivered in time for the Duke's birthday.
Anne glanced at Olivia, who was sitting and entrusting her hair to the maid Marie. She hesitated whether to tell her this fact, but Madam Marie spoke first.
"If it's a quick-handed designer, I know someone."
Olivia had talked with Madam Marie to clear up misunderstandings and decided to keep her by her side on the condition that she would only attend to her when requested.
"Can I meet them?"
"Of course. I'll send someone as soon as it dawns."
"But even if it's as fast as possible, tomorrow is Thursday, and the ball is the day after. Isn't it too tight?"
Anne asked out of concern.
"If it's that person, it's possible."
Madam Marie replied with conviction.
And the next day, the designer, who was absolutely trusted by the maid Madam Marie, rushed in as if leading a division and charging into enemy territory.
"Hello, Miss Blanchett. Nice to meet you."
A woman wearing a hat with a swaying bright blue Duke's feather greeted her.
Even so, she scanned Olivia from head to toe at once. Her gaze, which went down to the ankle bone of her slender ankle, quickly rose and met Olivia's eyes.
"Perfect."
The woman, who introduced herself as Madam Lauren, flamboyantly raised her red-painted lips.
"Now, then. Shall we take it off first?"
The sky, which had been gloomy since morning, began to rain in the afternoon.
A black four-wheeled carriage was entering through a path of spruce trees with blooming red crimson flowers, getting wet in the rain.
It was a carriage returning from Lieden Palace after being called by the Crown Prince.
Maurice, who had been pacing anxiously by the window, hurried downstairs.
On days when he had to make such a report, even the weather was not on his side.
Johann Leopold particularly disliked rainy days, and on such days, he was basically in a low mood.
In other words, Maurice was about to pour a can of oil on a burning house in a little while.
Letting out a long sigh, Maurice went out to the porch with the butler as he saw the carriage passing through the main gate.
"Welcome."
Johann, who got out of the carriage, nodded briefly and entered. Maurice walked beside Johann, who was crossing the central hall, and observed his mood. His steps were full of anger.
He didn't know what was said during the audience with the Crown Prince, but it was clear that it wasn't good.
Maurice gauged a better time to report. They say you should avoid a downpour.
"Speak."
But there was no such opportune time for the perceptive Johann. There was only now or later.
There's also a saying that it's better to be beaten sooner. Maurice summarized it in one line as concisely as possible.
"The Litten City Hall has issued a rejection notice."
The sound of shoes echoing in the high-ceilinged hall stopped abruptly. As expected, Johann Leopold's face, which had looked uncomfortable, became even more ferocious and exuded murderous intent.
"The reason."
A low voice spread through the space along with the sound of rain.
"That's... the situation has become a bit nasty."
"Is the Lancelot family involved?"
"There was a meeting with the Mayor of Litten yesterday. I will report the details in the office."
Edgar would not have stood idly by as the Leopold Hotel was being built in the heart of Litten. Just like Johann had done.
Johann raised his head.
Irritation was evident in Johann's eyes as he slowly scanned the beautiful sacred painting on the high ceiling, the light of the huge chandelier hanging in the middle, and the colorful crystals scattering in the light.
'I told them you would go to meet Princess Kranz. Don't make a lady wait. Yohan.'
The sneering face of Christian in the Crown Prince's reception room this afternoon doubled his annoyance.
'Yohan! Help me! If my engagement with Argent is broken, I'll lie next to my father's coffin. Yohan, we're brothers. Please help me!'
Bastard.
It was only three years ago that he had crawled on all fours and begged after the scandal with Olivia Blanchett broke out.
At that time, he needed the title, so he accepted that dirty offer, but not now.
He couldn't just get married like a stud horse because Christian, who was coming out recklessly, was annoying.
Indeed. He let her divorce too easily.
The gray-blue sky seen through the terrace window that reached the ceiling reminded him of his desperate wife's eyes. A pitiful and lowly woman who always craved only him.
He lowered his gaze, which had been aimlessly wandering around the Greathill Duke's Castle, one of the rewards he had gained by participating in the Crown Prince's farce, and was just about to step onto the central staircase covered with a red carpet.
Johann stopped once again.
"What is that."
At the cold voice, Maurice looked up at the gallery stage, following Johann's gaze. It was the place where the portraits of the Leopold Duke and Duchess were hung.
But now, two handsome men with neatly combed bright blond hair, the symbol of nobility, were looking down at them with dignified eyes.
Johann's eyes narrowed as he looked at the portrait of the late Duke of Edinburgh, his father.
"That is..."
Just as the butler, who was following behind, was about to open his mouth, Diane approached quickly from the other side with a light sound of heels.
"You're here."
A smile like that of the mistress of this house bloomed on her red-flushed face.
It had been over a month since the divorce.
The portrait of Olivia Blanchett, which was proudly hung on the central staircase, was not right for anyone to see.
No matter how unique her beauty was, there was no longer any reason for her to be hung next to Johann Leopold.
"Let's hang this instead of that painting."
Diane straightened her back and gave instructions to the servants in an elegant tone. She looked like the owner of the Duke's residence, but no one objected.
Johann was a busy man and didn't have the time to pay attention to household matters, so Diane had been in charge of the household affairs of Greathill. So there was nothing strange about it.
The Duchess was incompetent, and later her mind was not even sound, so in fact, she was practically the real mistress.
Olivia knew nothing. She entered the Count's residence at the age of six and became seventeen without any education.
After the Blanchett Count family collapsed, how much of what they taught her to sell her off quickly in the marriage market would have been ingrained in her head and body? So she was ignorant and clumsy.
Diane found her ridiculous.
Olivia was sometimes in a clear state of mind without being drunk on medicine or alcohol, and whenever that happened, she tried to fulfill her duties as the Duchess.
Whenever Olivia tried to do such things that were beyond her station, Diane made her realize her position. There was no one more suitable than the Oscar siblings to play that role.
The people who hated Olivia Blanchett the most in this world, her half-siblings.
A father who had an affair with his mother's friend. A mother who shot and killed that father in front of their eyes. The siblings' mother muttered like a habit.
'It's all because of that bitch.'
It was only natural that the siblings' twisted resentment was directed at Olivia.
The effect was certain. Like a field ravaged by a storm, Olivia, whose hair was pulled and whose face was scratched after they left, would lock herself in her room and become as quiet as a mouse until the wounds healed.
On such days, even if Johann, whom she had been waiting for so desperately, visited the bedroom, she stubbornly never opened the locked door.
Poor thing.
Diane felt joy at the sight of Olivia, who was beautifully dressed and wearing a shy smile, being dragged down by strong men. It felt like a tooth that had been aching was pulled out.
Diane recalled the debutante ball where she first met Johann as she watched the portrait of the late Duke of Edinburgh being hung.
She fell in love at first sight with the man who was escorting Princess Catherine as he entered.
But since the other party was a princess of Rondon, Diane, who was only the daughter of a Baron family, gave up. But she never thought that a filthy bastard would become the Duchess of Leopold...
If you can be, I can be too. Olivia.
Diane, who had been admiring the satisfactorily hung painting for a while, headed to the kitchen with the maids behind her.
It was almost time for Johann, who had entered the palace, to return, and it was dinner time. She checked the condition of the venison being prepared for him and gave instructions regarding the table setting.
She enjoyed this life that revolved around her orders and considered it her important duty.
Even so, she was always conscious of the gazes of the other servants and cleverly kept the appropriate line. She was not yet the Duchess.
It was then that the bell rang, signaling the alignment of the servants. He had arrived.
"You're here."
At this time of welcoming Johann, Diane was ecstatic as if she had become his wife.
She was the only woman in Greathill who was not wearing a black maid's uniform, so she couldn't help but stand out without making any special effort. Especially if the servants were lined up like a screen, as they were now.
Nevertheless, Diane wore a bolder outfit today. Her breasts, which were tightly constricted by the corset, were plump and luscious.
Johann's gaze was fixed on the portrait of the late Duke from beginning to end. It was a little disappointing, but the cynical eyes made him look more attractive. That's why she was more impatient.
Diane waited for his reaction, admiring Johann's profile with her hands neatly clasped together.
"I asked why this is hanging here."
Diane was taken aback by the low, sunken voice.
"Miss Brooke replaced it."
The butler said.
"Change it back."
"Yes, I understand."
"Is there a special... reason?"
Only then did Johann's gaze turn to Diane. She couldn't understand his cold and unpleasant eyes. The psychology of insisting on the portrait of his divorced ex-wife.
"It's almost the Duke's birthday. It won't look good to the people invited to the banquet. Do you have to hang it?"
Diane held her breath, knowing that she was being presumptuous.
"Do I have to get permission from the servants one by one to hang a painting in my house?"
It was a cold rebuke.
