The Trash Lady Who Stole the Duke's First Night
Chapter 21
When someone asked how he could possibly marry a fallen noble, Grita had made an awkward expression and asked them to treat Lady Aquitaine with utmost courtesy, at least until she left Schuppenhardt.
The knights looked at Carlos with ambivalent, somewhat confused expressions.
“Ah, my dear hyung. It seems you truly intend to marry. You look after her so uniquely—it makes your little brother quite jealous.”
At Harry’s smooth, entirely undaunted words, the knights’ expressions hardened. Every one of them glanced toward Carlos’s lap.
The natural assumption that there was no way he would actually marry Lady Aquitaine had begun to waver just a fraction.
They wondered if the Commander had taken a liking to Aquitaine’s fairy-like appearance. Otherwise, why would he go to such lengths…?
“Who would all of you bet on? Who do you think our hyung holds in his heart… Could it be Her Highness the Imperial Princess, who would place him on the imperial throne?”
“Your Highness. That is enough.”
Grita’s expression turned stern.
“Noona, it is truly frustrating. Even when His Majesty prepared the entire feast to put the Imperial Princess’s husband on the throne, hyung just cannot bring himself to eat it.”
Harry shrugged and burst into a hearty laugh.
Watching the twenty-one-year-old Imperial Prince casually address anyone as noona while speaking of the imperial throne without the slightest hesitation, the Lobitan knights let out dry chuckles.
“You must be upset too, noona, aren’t you? Not even knowing that the feast you prepared was actually laid out by hyung.”
Harry poured wine into his glass as he whispered to Grita, his eyes curving into sweet crescents.
“If our hyung doesn’t marry Her Highness the Imperial Princess, then noona—”
“…If he marries Her Highness the Imperial Princess, can he become Emperor?”
Just then, a small voice cut in.
Toby spewed his beer, his narrow eyes flying wide.
“What the fuck? Is she asleep or not?”
Toby glared at the rabbit who kept reviving like a water ghost.
As the woman sleeping with her head on his lap began to push herself up, Carlos roughly wiped his face with a dry hand and pulled her close by the shoulders. Sitting with his back turned to Harry, he completely blocked her view with his body.
“I’m not going up.”
Elio shook her head reflexively. Carlos pulled her tight against his chest and raised a brow.
“Where are you planning to run off to this time?”
Whenever he sent her up, she ran back down. Whenever he laid her in bed and stepped away, she darted out again.
That was why Carlos had ultimately chosen to let the troublesome little rabbit sleep right on his lap.
“Sir. Do you want to become Emperor by marrying Her Highness the Imperial Princess? No, did you intend to, only to be stopped by the Papal Faction?”
Piecing together the fragmented words she had caught, Elio rubbed her half-asleep eyes.
Carlos wrapped his hands around her flushed shoulders as if to hide her completely, pulling the blanket up over her.
“Why don’t you just sleep instead of eavesdropping? Have one more drop of liquor and see what happens. I’ll tie you to the bed, so be warned.”
Harry stretched his neck over Carlos’s shoulder to peek, letting out a laugh.
“Why, hyung? She’s quite cute. Though hardly cute enough to cast aside the imperial throne for.”
Frowning at whoever was calling Carlos hyung, Elio rested her hand on Carlos’s shoulder and quickly whispered again, her breath carrying a sweet wave of wine.
“Did I… I mean, did my father block your path to becoming Emperor, Sir?”
At her trembling whisper that was fully audible despite the effort, Harry clapped his hands and let out a whistle.
“Indeed. My lady has ruined our hyung’s golden future. Someone with nothing to their name like you suits a humble Imperial Prince like me rather than hyung… Isn’t that right, hyung?”
Harry tilted his head with a bright smile. Carlos blocked Harry once more with his broad frame and checked the woman’s temperature.
“…The Imperial Prince?”
Carlos caught and supported the swaying woman in his arms.
“Why would the Imperial Prince be humble…? Of course, even if he were noteworthy, Sir Carlos is still better than the Imperial Prince.”
“Why is that?”
“Because he’s more handsome.”
Hearing the resolute drunken rambling of a woman who didn’t even realize the Imperial Prince was right beside her, Carlos clicked his tongue in disbelief. He pulled the blanket all the way up to her neck.
“Oh my, have you ever even seen the Imperial Prince’s face? I admit hyung is handsome, but the Imperial Prince is quite pretty, you know.”
Carlos shoved Harry away with a rough elbow as the prince tried to lean in. A throbbing headache gripped his temples, caught between the drunken little chick and the young pup flanking him.
“Do you prefer the seat of the handsome Young Duke’s wife? But what to do? The Duchess will never allow it.”
At the teasing, gentle voice, Elio hesitated and tried to peek around Carlos, only to be stopped.
“Where are you looking?”
Her chin was caught and turned right back.
The world seemed to flip upside down, spinning and churning before her eyes. As she let out a groan and doubled over, her feet suddenly dangled in the air.
“S-Sir!”
“What.”
Leaving orders for the knights to clean up and politely escort the prince out, Carlos threw Elio over his shoulder and strode toward the stairs.
Harry’s laughter rang out from behind, asking if he truly fancied that woman.
Her face flushing for no reason at the cheerful laughter, Elio blinked her heavy, drooping eyes and wrapped her arms around Carlos’s neck. It felt as though thick honey had been poured into her head.
Feeling her limp body sway gently with each step, she finally let her head drop.
❖ ❖ ❖
The moment darkness fell over her vision, Elio suddenly shook her head.
When had she fallen asleep? Where was she?
Clutching her burning throat, she gagged.
Carlos immediately frowned and reached for her.
“I told you to come here.”
‘Nanny……?’
Dodging Nanny as she tried to lay her in bed, Elio scrambled hastily under the window.
A cavernous room thick with the pungent stench of alcohol. Her heart felt as though it would leap from her chest.
Relying purely on animal instinct, she desperately crawled beneath the window and pressed herself against the cold wall like a bug.
“…Why do you keep going to the window?”
Elio curled inward at Nanny’s scary, cold-rasped voice clicking her tongue.
When there was a smell of alcohol, she was never supposed to lie in bed. That was an ironclad rule Elio had learned ever since she was seven years old.
Trembling as she clung to the wall, her body gradually lost its strength. Like a drowsy chick, her head began to nod forward again and again.
“…Why won’t you ever listen?”
Before she realized it, Nanny had approached, tapping Elio’s warm cheek with long fingers.
Nanny slid an arm beneath her waist, seemingly trying to lift her again. Elio gripped the windowsill and let out a faint whimper.
Swaaaaaah.
Listening to the pouring rain, she shook her head with all her might. A pitch-black room, the heavy smell of alcohol. The rocking world was so dizzying that she couldn’t even open her eyes.
As she continued to whimper and tremble in distress, Nanny finally seemed to give up, merely standing over her in silence.
How much time had passed?
Thud.
Something fell over Elio, making her flail her arms in fright. She felt soft cloth beneath her hands.
Groping at the bundle of fabric, Elio carefully climbed onto it. Hugging a pillow like a hen brooding over an egg, she curled herself into a ball.
Elio knew all too well from firsthand experience how violent and vulgar her father became whenever he drank.
On days when the smell of liquor hung on him, she would spend the night hiding in the chicken coop.
And on days when she was caught and locked in the room, she always positioned herself under the window. So that she could jump out at a moment’s notice.
……How nice it would be to live with Older Sister.
“Come here.”
As Elio wobbled and curled onto her side, a warm, solid forearm slid beneath her head.
Elio flinched at the rock-hard touch. She wanted to pull her face away, but her limbs had no strength left.
“Are you cold?”
Nanny asked softly, cradling the back of her head.
“…Why do you keep trembling?”
Elio curled her trembling fingers inward.
Is she in a good mood today…?
Grasping the forearm beneath her head, she let out a faint, bashful smile.
On days when Nanny was in a good mood, she was gentle and never laid a hand on her. The nausea that had been rising in her stomach seemed to settle a little.
“…Is it uncomfortable?”
Elio shook her head and rubbed her forehead against Nanny’s chest.
It really seemed Nanny was in high spirits today. She hadn’t hit her once, and had even embraced her like this.
Our nanny is truly kind whenever she isn’t in a bad mood…. Except for when she hits me, she’s really gentle….
But….
“Nanny. Why… are your… breasts gone…?”
Breathing shallowly, Elio patted Nanny’s chest, rubbing her cheek against the firm, solid muscle.
Nanny gave no answer, and a rough sigh fell over Elio’s head.
Fearing that Nanny’s mood might sour again, Elio pressed her lips tightly shut and pulled her face away.
Only the sound of drizzling rain and Nanny’s low, raspy breathing filled the room.
……Is she angry?
As she bit her lip, trying to think through the swamp of her fading consciousness, a warm hand suddenly cupped the back of her neck. Nanny pulled her face back against her chest.
Elio let out a faint gasp. Groping once more at Nanny’s chest, she rested her cheek against the firm swell.
The rain grew heavier. Pitter, patter. The steady, rhythmic thumping of a heartbeat sounded soothing to her ears.
Only then did Elio relax, wrapping her arms around Nanny’s waist.
Because the blanket was so warm. Because the chest of Nanny holding her after so long was so warm.
The dark room thick with the smell of liquor, the heavy footsteps pounding up the stairs, the turning doorknob and the creak of hinges—all of it felt a little less terrifying.
Slowly, her faint consciousness drifted away once more.
❖ ❖ ❖
Late dawn. Footsteps paused where the moonlight filtered in, and the door slowly creaked open.
Carlos patted the back of the sleeping woman and lifted his gaze, pulling the blanket higher over her shoulders.
“What is it?”
Carlos asked quietly as Grita slipped silently through the cracked door, having watched him for a moment from outside.
“Are you going to stay up all night?”
When Carlos didn’t answer, Grita smiled resignedly and set a tray with two glasses of water onto the bedside table.
“The lady will be frightened if she wakes up. Please come out now.”
Though Carlos hadn’t slept a wink, his face showed no trace of drowsiness as he shook his head.
“…She only just fell into a deep sleep. She needs more rest.”
Cradling the stack of documents meant for the morning report, Grita sat down beside Carlos.
