The Trash Lady Who Stole the Duke's First Night
Chapter 25
Starting tomorrow, I need to move more diligently. Investigate other territories quickly, and look for a job too.
She pulled the blanket all the way up to her chin. Instead of the scent of acacia, the bittersweet fragrance of lilacs lingered persistently at the tip of her nose.
Outside the window, the laughter of mercenaries was raucous, while the room was quiet, only the rustling of fabric echoing loudly.
Holding her breath slowly, she lightly traced her soft lips with her thumb.
It felt as though the scent of the potion still remained on her lips—the very ones he had smoothed over after pouring an entire bottle into her before sending her back to the village.
When she slipped her finger in a little deeper, her moist tongue brushed the tip of her thumb.
Hahaha!
The coarse bursts of laughter ringing through the night air outside pierced her burning ears.
She buried her face in the pillow. Her hot breath poured out like steam against the crisp pillowcase.
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“Did you see His Grace the Duke? He stays only at the villa these days, so this old man rarely gets to see his face…”
“It’s just on the mountain behind us; why fuss about seeing him? If you miss Father that much, go see him yourself.”
“I do not miss him.”
The old butler’s thin eyebrows drooped. Carlos clicked his tongue as he unbuckled his sword.
“Father mentioned he needs another maid at the villa.”
“Yes. I was already in the middle of screening candidates. I am choosing a discreet child whose lips are sealed.”
“Right. Also, look into a house in central Schweiz. Somewhere to use for a short while.”
“Are you referring to a residence for Lady Aquitaine?”
The butler carefully set down the hot teapot.
“What kind of house should I look for?”
“Whatever you see fit.”
Without accepting any assistance, Carlos pulled off his tunic and walked past the black oak furniture starkly arranged across the spacious room.
“Very well. Then I shall prepare something in District 4.”
“Make it District 12.”
The low voice brought the butler to a halt.
Carlos tied the belt of his robe and leaned back into the wing chair.
“…Yes. There is a vacant house in District 12. I shall see to it that she is accommodated there.”
“I’d like it to have a garden.”
The butler stopped in his tracks once more. He stared intently at the face of his young master, whom he had served for twenty-six years.
Carlos held his teacup in one hand as he turned a page of the documents.
“……Then I shall look for a newly built, two-story house with a garden in the safest, most central area of District 12.”
“Well, do as you please.”
Carlos set down the monster movement reports he had been skimming. As he took another sip of tea, he tilted his head.
“What is that?”
The butler followed his gaze.
“It is the flower you brought back, Young Master. I had a maid place it in water, but…”
A single stalk of white lilac stood in a white porcelain vase on the bedside table. Standing starkly white in a room sparsely furnished only in black oak, it looked conspicuously out of place.
“Did I bring that?”
“Yes. You brought it with you when the luggage was being unloaded from the carriage.”
Carlos stroked his chin.
Thanks to Elio’s purification, the petals had not lost their vitality, remaining as moist and pristine white as before.
He gazed blankly at the snow-white petals before rising to his feet. Approaching the terrace and resting his hands on the window sill, he took in the panoramic view of central Schweiz below.
His gaze settled on the only place shining brightly even in the dead of night: the inn district. A crooked smirk formed on one side of his lips.
Even with all the evil dragons gone, it was still a time when monsters ran rampant; travelers from across the harsh Northern Continent, wandering mercenaries, and all manner of men were bound to be drinking themselves into a stupor at the inns all through the night.
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“If you require anything further, please do not come to the Duke’s Castle; simply send a letter at your convenience. We will assist you immediately.”
“Thank you!”
Elio bowed alongside the old butler. Clutching the pouch of money to her chest, she bowed a little deeper to the butler, who seemed cold as ice.
Only when the sound of horse hooves echoing through the cold morning air faded away did she finally breathe easily.
She hadn’t expected them to find a house for her this quickly.
She swiftly slipped the bundle of keys the butler had handed her into her front pocket and shoved the money pouch deep into her bag.
Gently stroking the blue gate, she peered into the front yard. Though it was overgrown with wild weeds and flowers, she could not have been more thrilled.
Straining to hold back the twitching corners of her smiling lips, she skipped ten light steps forward before whirling back around.
Her composure broke, and a radiant grin burst across her face.
Look at this! It’s huge…!
I walked ten whole steps and I’m still right in front of the house…!
It was far smaller than the Count’s estate, but much larger than Older Sister’s cabin.
Smiling brightly, Elio turned to her left. Far in the distance, the majestic Duke’s Castle came into view.
After staring silently at the castle for a long moment, she wrapped her arms around herself and turned away. She ran briskly, as if shaking off unwarranted feelings. Trying her best to erase the man from her mind—the one who had cut off all contact the moment he returned to the Duke’s Castle—she followed the route she had memorized yesterday toward the central plaza.
August brought ever more frequent rain. In the rainy season, merchants bustled with preparations against rampant monster breeding. Though they paid healers extra premiums to prevent epidemics caused by monsters whose fertility multiplied several times over in the humid weather, purification personnel were sorely lacking.
Merchants who couldn’t even secure low-rank personnel hauled boxes and rolled up awnings with grim faces, chattering anxiously about monster subjugation.
Clicks of tongues grew louder over rumors that the monster situation in Cyprus was alarming, and that everything coming over from Cyprus was suffering a terrible harvest. Elio browsed the stalls with an uneasy expression.
Would Schweiz be safe? With both the Dragon Mountains and the border right in front of it, wasn’t this actually the most dangerous region? And my mana hasn’t increased much yet…
Swallowing dryly, Elio crouched in front of a shop and tilted back the wide brim of her straw hat.
“Excuse me, how much is this…?”
“One thousand Shillings for three bunches! It’s real sweet and delicious! Want three bunches?”
Realizing from the vendor’s informal speech that she truly looked like a commoner, Elio gave an awkward smile and pulled out a small notebook.
She jotted down each price in her notebook. Since she had to manage everything on her own now, she needed to accurately gauge her living expenses.
“Three bunches—no, tw… Just one bunch for now, please!”
Because grocery prices were higher than expected, she bought only grapes and milk. Then, she parked her secondhand bicycle—bought cheaply because one of its brakes was broken—in front of a bookstore.
After a brief hesitation, Elio pulled her cheap straw hat down lower and stepped into the bookstore.
“You’re back again? You should just buy it already. Still hesitating?”
Elio rubbed the nape of her neck in embarrassment and greeted the clerk with a nod. Having browsed the books all day yesterday, she was apparently remembered.
Only after unnecessarily lingering around the Monster Encyclopedia shelves did she let out a shallow breath and lean against the bookcase with the red romance novels.
『The Noble Knight’s First Kiss and Between the Legs_Volume 1』
She hugged the knight romance novel to her chest—a small joy in her anxious life.
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“You should stop staring. You’ll wear out the lady’s face.”
Grita popped open a ruby-embellished portable ashtray and flicked her ashes. Watching Carlos unable to take his eyes off the portrait of Aquitaine splashed across the front page of the newspaper, she smiled knowingly.
“Senior. You’re going to fall right into that newspaper at this rate.”
Carlos chuckled, folded the newspaper, and stubbed out his cigar. Grita extinguished her cigar as well and rose to her feet alongside him.
Unlike Carlos, who was dressed in a loose tunic, Grita, outfitted in a crisply ironed uniform, adjusted her shirt buttons as she stepped up beside him.
Tearing her gaze away from Aquitaine’s portrait in the newspaper, she matched Carlos’s long strides as they walked.
“…The kid is going to be shocked when she sees the paper.”
Though the sunlight was not particularly scorching, the man—exceptionally sensitive to heat—was dripping with sweat.
Pulling a fan from her bag as she always did, Grita fanned him and spoke casually.
“You seem to treat the lady too much like a baby.”
“She is young.”
At his firm reply, Grita looked closely at his face.
“What?”
“Senior. I think you’re getting wrinkles on your face.”
“…What?”
“Aren’t you twenty-six already? Your skin looks worse. It’s time you started minding your age.”
Twenty-six was by no means an age for wrinkles. Yet Grita spoke in a deadpan tone before her eyes curved in amusement.
“You’re only a year behind. Why don’t you worry about yourself first?”
Carlos replied nonchalantly as he walked deeper into the blacksmith alley.
Grita lowered her gaze from Carlos to her feet for a moment, then gave a faint smile.
“I’m thinking of having a new sword forged to commemorate turning twenty-five.”
“Good idea. I heard a new batch of mithril just came in anyway.”
At the relaxed curve of Carlos’s lips, Grita smiled alongside him, continuing to fidget with the knot of the cravat around her neck. For her, it was a smile she hadn’t seen in a long time.
“Did you look over the list of prospective matches for Lady Aquitaine that I narrowed down last time?”
“Find someone better.”
“Even an older brother wouldn’t fuss over her as much as you do, Senior.”
Carlos smiled in tacit agreement at Grita’s teasing.
“I should at least look out for her that much.”
Inhaling the scent of molten iron cutting through the sweltering midday air, Grita slowly clenched and unclenched her fist.
“…I feel sorry toward Lady Aquitaine as well.”
Carlos slowed his pace and looked at Grita.
“Isn’t she the child who took the stigma upon herself in my place, all for the honor of my family?”
Grita met Carlos’s eyes as she thought of the child brought here on her account.
While marriage talks were secretly being exchanged between Hoffmann and Schuppenhardt, the Emperor’s sudden decree pushed forward a marriage between the Imperial Princess and Carlos.
As the daughter of an honorable Marquis house and a member of the Emperor’s Faction, Grita could not stand by his side at the cost of opposing the Emperor and the Imperial Princess, nor could she bear the brunt of all manner of scandals.
And so, wasn’t Aquitaine the child brought in for that purpose? She had already heard of the plan in advance from His Grace the Duke and her father.
“Since this was what you did in order to marry me, Senior, I believe there is a share of responsibility I must shoulder as well. I am considering appropriate compensation that I can offer as a Hoffmann.”
Carlos silently gazed up at the sweltering, turquoise sky. Slowly closing and opening his dry eyes, he swept back his sweat-dampened hair.
Something he did in order to marry Grita…
A dry chuckle escaped him.
