Chapter 10
The ball was held in the Great Hall, located in the west wing of the Main Building. As the largest of the mansion’s three banquet halls, it was reserved for grand-scale events; the last time it had been used was for the previous Duke Herald’s thirtieth birthday gala.
That day, Gerard had attended as the Duke’s youngest brother. Back then, the Great Hall had been so crowded with imperial socialites and business leaders that there was hardly room to step. Maxville had been buzzing with the excitement of a generational shift, overflowing with anticipation for the new Duke’s era.
It happened less than six months after that. The young Duke’s life was cut short in a tragic accident.
‘I can’t monopolize the entire inheritance just because I was born first. You’re both our father’s sons just as much as I am. Primogeniture is an irrational, outdated custom. It should change starting with our generation.’
Herald had intended to divide his thirteen titles and a portion of his wealth between his two younger brothers. Since it was a long-standing tradition among the nobility to consolidate titles and assets in the eldest son to preserve the family’s power, he faced fierce opposition from the clan elders, yet he refused to back down. Then, while inspecting a barony intended for the second brother, Marcus, Herald lost his life in a dynamite explosion at a mine.
At the time, Herald’s only child was a young daughter, so the succession should have passed to Marcus. However, because Marcus had also perished alongside his brother, the title fell to the youngest. The third son, who had never even imagined becoming the head of the family—Gerard Glenn—thus became the master of Maxville.
From that moment on, his life was turned upside down. Completely.
Gerard took a deep drag of his cigarette as he looked down at the ballroom through the glass window. The ball was still in full swing in the vast, brightly lit Great Hall. People were laughing and dancing without a hint of exhaustion. He looked down at his guests with a bored expression as they remained vibrant deep into the night.
He was alone in the empty drawing room. There were lounges, smoking rooms, and balconies on the floor below, but they had all been occupied by guests. Gerard had already been endured them for over two hours and needed a moment of respite. The alcohol he’d consumed for the sake of socializing was finally starting to make him feel lightheaded.
He needed a cigarette. Desperately.
He brought the half-finished cigarette back to his lips. Sucking in until his cheeks hollowed, he stared vacantly down at the ballroom beneath his feet.
This second-floor drawing room was a place difficult to find for someone unfamiliar with the mansion’s layout. So, when the door suddenly clicked open, Gerard was certain the person interrupting his rest was someone he knew.
Sure enough, his intuition was correct.
“What are you doing here?”
Victoria entered the drawing room and closed the door behind her. Instead of answering, Gerard simply stared at her purple frock.
“Are you surveying the view from above now? Still haven’t found her?”
Feeling too tired to even offer a proper retort, Gerard just watched her, holding his lit cigarette. Beyond the window over his shoulder, the Great Hall’s massive chandelier seemed to float in the air.
“The lady with the glass slipper, I mean. Have you found her yet?”
At Victoria’s words, he finally let out a short, dry chuckle. His progressive and fierce maternal cousin always took pleasure in such sarcasm. Gerard liked that trait in her, perhaps because it mirrored his own.
“Well. I have a feeling she’s out there somewhere, but there were so many women that I didn’t have the presence of mind to check their shoes.”
“His Excellency’s sincerity seems to be lacking.”
“You should have helped me look instead.”
“Why should I? You’re the one who threw this extravagant party.”
With a snort, Victoria walked over and stood beside him. She opened the silver cigarette case resting on the windowsill, took one out, and placed it between her lips. Gerard naturally flicked his lighter to provide a flame. The signet ring on his pinky finger glinted in the light.
He always wore this ring, engraved with the ducal seal. He hadn’t started wearing it immediately after his succession, but only recently. To be precise, since his return to Windburg this past March.
“Since you’ve already gone to this much trouble, you should look properly. Who knows? You might actually meet a decent woman. I met Watt at a ball, too.”
“If I could live like the Count and Countess Benford, it would be a blessing. What more could I ask for?”
“True. I’ll give you that.”
Victoria laughed and exhaled a cloud of smoke. The two were known as one of the most devoted couples in high society. Gerard trusted Watt, his cousin’s husband.
“Was it love at first sight for the two of you at the ball?”
“It was for him. Not for me, though.”
“Then how did you end up married?”
“Watt was quite persistent. He’d suddenly send flowers to the house, or send letters asking to be invited for tea. It was almost ridiculous at first.”
“How romantic.”
“He’s still romantic. He’s a man who knows how to make a woman happy.”
“Splendid.”
“I got lucky.”
“But would you have married him if he weren’t the eldest son?”
Victoria paused for a moment. However, she didn’t hesitate long before answering. It wasn’t because the question was difficult, but rather because Gerard’s intention behind asking it made her falter.
“Probably not. I was the ‘best’ daughter, after all.”
Victoria replied in a low voice with a smile. Gerard answered with silence. Leaning side by side against the window, they slowly brought their cigarettes to their lips against the backdrop of the grand chandelier.
Children of the nobility were divided into two categories: the eldest sons and the spare sons. The best daughters and the spare daughters.
When Gerard was a spare son, no family had actively sought an engagement with him. The most beautiful and promising daughters all competed for the eldest sons. Only the spare daughters showed interest in him.
To avoid any misunderstanding, it should be noted that Gerard was equally uninterested in them. He had never once felt attracted to a noble daughter, nor had he ever imagined he could build an ideal family with one as his wife.
The woman he had once wanted as a lover was not a noble. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say he had begun to find her attractive for that very reason.
Gerard was certain that his firm opinion on noble ladies was not a mere prejudice. Being a nobleman himself, he knew them better than anyone.
Noble daughters were like ornamental birds, tamed by rigorous training and their environment. They knew how to do nothing besides look pretty and sing pleasant songs. They were people with no opinions of their own, either too naive or too materialistic, content to settle into a comfortable life. Whether man or woman, what charm could such a person possibly possess?
“Anyway, it’s quite a sight. Look at that. All those women gathered here just for you.”
Victoria changed the subject, pointing out the window. The music in the ballroom changed to a brisk allegretto. People formed a circle and performed a group dance, their faces lit with broad smiles.
Looking down at the scene, Gerard replied.
“It’s not for me.”
His face remained expressionless, lacking even a hint of cynicism.
“What they want is the Duke of Windburg. Not me.”
“But you are the Duke of Windburg.”
“Do you think the title is who I am?”
“Isn’t it? Even your name changed—Gerard El Windburg. It’s already been four years, what are you talking about?”
“Is that really me?”
Gerard brought the cigarette to his lips. The smoke he inhaled felt particularly bitter. Frowning, he slowly exhaled the smoke through his lips and questioned himself.
It was a question he had asked himself countless times over the past few years.
Is that me?
Where do I begin and the Duke end?
The alcohol seemed to be hitting him all at once. Feeling a bit nauseous, he stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. The silver ashtray, embossed with roses, was stained with black ash. For a moment, he felt a simultaneous sense of revulsion and a sadistic sort of pleasure.
“Do you think you would have been ‘you’ if you’d married Miss Dale?”
He felt momentarily blindsided by the incredibly direct question. Victoria watched him with a long cigarette in her hand, while Gerard remained silent for a moment, pressing his cigarette into the ashtray. A sharp silence began to flow between them.
It seemed the Countess Benford had no intention of letting this hard-won opportunity slip away.
“Since we’re on the subject, let me ask. What happened? Back then, I thought—”
“As you can see.”
Gerard looked up, cutting his cousin off. Victoria met his gaze with a face that wasn’t the least bit intimidated. She was one of the few people who did not fear the Duke, and therefore, he had to come up with a more definitive response.
What could he say to make her stay silent forever? Gerard never wanted to discuss this topic again.
“I simply failed to reach a compromise.”
Yet, for some reason, those were the words that slipped out.
