Chapter 34
It was quite peculiar that the first gathering where she had met the Lüsenford noblewomen was still vividly etched in Kaella’s mind even now.
Her mind, exhausted to the point of conveniently forgetting and erasing things as needed, only retained the most stimulating memories.
The mocking words hurled at her, the disdainful glares raining down, Pheon ignoring or outright refusing to hear her words. And the dazzlingly beautiful Beatrice. That was all there was.
Yet why did that day linger—the one where her younger self had stepped out first to greet the noblewomen? More precisely, the pounding of her heart, the tension, the faint fear, and the anticipation as she awaited it were the clearest of all.
Now too drained and weak to harbor such emotions, Kaella entered the room to see the noblewomen rising all at once.
Gasps of surprise rose from several places, followed by the noblewomen grasping their dress skirts and offering polite curtsies in unison. They hadn’t expected the Duke to accompany her.
“Since this is the first gathering hosted by my lady, I hope you all enjoy yourselves.”
Pheon turned to look at Kaella before them and spoke tenderly.
“But if you feel even the slightest bit tired or unwell, you must return at once.”
For a husband to escort his wife to a ladies’ gathering and even make an appearance—by Lüsenford standards, it was a blow to a man’s dignity.
Of course, the noblewomen of Lüsenford weren’t dismissed as mere “housewives” whose work held no influence.
No matter the place, the happenings in the inner chambers inevitably affected politics. They were noblewomen, the only ones standing shoulder to shoulder with their titled husbands.
Yet acting warmly toward one’s wife or daughter, escorting her everywhere, and doting on her like that—in Lüsenford terms, it was the “cringeworthy nonsense of those flabby southerners.”
Even in Kline, it was rare for a man to personally deliver his wife to a gathering of women only. Kaella knew that well.
‘Something my father would do.’
Adeo de Shaser, the Ostein Duke who had married for love and never remarried after his wife’s death, was precisely that sort of man. Whenever her mother attended a ladies’ gathering while alive, he had always escorted her there and back.
And so Kaella had assumed that was simply what husbands did. She had believed a husband was someone forever at his wife’s side, attentive to her affairs, listening intently to her words, and sharing deep conversations.
Perhaps that was why her failed marriage had struck her so hard. With no expectations, there would have been no pain—but she had naively hoped for far too much. Now she wanted nothing. She knew husbands were men who did nothing for their wives.
“Watch over her well.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
But wasn’t this entirely different? Pheon, who didn’t forget to give instructions even to the maids, was no “husband who did nothing"—he was a “husband who did far too much.”
He had calmly done something no Lüsenford Duke raised in Lüsenford would ever do, then swept his gaze over the noblewomen one last time before turning back to Kaella.
“Have a pleasant time. I’ll take my leave.”
The shock the Duke had left behind in this gathering by flashing that bright smile and departing was tremendous.
The gazes fixed on the fragile next Ostein Duchess and the Emperor’s niece, the Lüsenford Duchess, had already been cautious enough. Most of those present had been at the banquet where she had collapsed.
After the Duke had exiled the head maid who wielded absolute power and executed the rest in a massive purge, now to appear here and dote on the Duchess—the quick-witted among them sensed it at once.
The Duchess would now wield enormous influence in Lüsenford’s power structure.
“Please, be seated, Your Highness.”
The maids from Ostein, chins held high, guided the Duchess to the seat of honor and quietly withdrew behind her.
The Duchess, her shoulders draped in the whitest fur—undoubtedly sourced right here in Lüsenford, a pelt no Lüsenford noblewoman could even dream of—wore diamonds draped around her neck and adorning both hands.
Her dress was a refined design utterly unlike the fashions popular in Lüsenford, crafted from rare fabric to boot; the noblewomen obsessed with the latest trends already had stars spinning in their eyes.
The Duchess sat still, merely gazing at the noblewomen. In truth, upon seeing all those familiar faces, Kaella had no idea what to say. More precisely, she hesitated to open her mouth at all, uncertain how to speak without drawing their ridicule.
Her younger self had said whatever she pleased, only for them to smile, exchange inscrutable glances among themselves, and toss out a cutting remark here and there.
Words that pierced her heart only after she was left alone, their true meaning dawning on her with bitter pain.
‘How do I speak without them looking down on me?’
Defensive instincts the Ostein Duke’s daughter should never have needed to learn bubbled up unconsciously as her first impulse.
Anxiety seized her that no matter what she said, they would laugh. What should she say? She didn’t want to. Couldn’t she just call the whole thing off?
It was then that one noblewoman stepped forward.
“I boldly offer my greetings first, Your Highness.”
Kaella barely managed to turn her rigidly stiffened neck in that direction. A middle-aged woman dressed in dark green velvet embroidered with yellow patterns bowed deeply toward her.
Kaella choked back an incredulous laugh. She knew full well this woman was according her far more courtesy than necessary.
“I am Yolnes Pare of the Pare family. Sir Pare, who serves as gatekeeper of Lüsenford Castle, is my husband.”
Yolnes Pare, who positioned herself as the representative of these noblewomen, had thrown in with head maid Doris—back when Doris ridiculed the young Duchess—joining in the fray with abandon.
A classic Lüsenford type who loved to step forward and boasted a booming voice, she had sided with those who had hounded Kaella at the first banquet. Whether her gatekeeper husband had kept her off the punishment list was anyone’s guess, but personalities like hers didn’t simply vanish.
She had the sturdy build typical of Lüsenford folk, tall to boot, and padded with middle-aged plumpness.
Prominent brow bones, a large nose, slightly protruding cheekbones defined her face. Her personality shone through in full with those big, bulging eyes.
Those eyes would roll around, staring down the young Duchess, muttering a few Lüsenford phrases before cackling—leaving the already sickly, petite Duchess terrified and at a loss.
Those who always spoke loudest and played leader were the ones to step up. This time was no different.
“With the head maid absent at Your Highness’s first meeting with us, it seems only right for us to take turns offering personal greetings.”
In other words, with the head maid gone, she intended to fill that role herself. Everyone knew the replacement would have to be chosen from those gathered here anyway.
By stepping forward first, Yolnes Pare had seized the upper hand. With her husband as gatekeeper and herself as head maid, the Pare family’s influence would become formidable.
Evidently, Kaella hadn’t wasted her time as Duchess after all—she read the woman’s intentions immediately.
“Very well, do so.”
With no head maid present, there was no way to proceed by proper etiquette. Besides, Kaella—utterly lacking in motivation—gave a vague nod, and Yolnes Pare brightened at once.
“My thanks. Then, to begin with Alicia of our Rulemon family…”
“No.”
No—even without motivation, anger still burned. Yolnes Pare’s words cut off short as she presumptuously named her own maternal house first.
The familiar sight of these Lüsenford folk who naturally condescended to her ignited Kaella’s temper anew; she wrung the words from her frail body by force. In situations like this, her way of coping came down to blunt speech.
“Didn’t you yourself say we should take turns and greet me personally?”
Who did she think she was, slyly playing head maid and queuing up her cronies and friends first?
Those who greeted the Duchess first held the advantage. The later ones would receive only perfunctory acknowledgment.
Even without the will to fight, Kaella refused to let them dismiss her as that “feeble southerner.”
If Yolnes Pare rolled her eyes and laughed at her again, Kaella would string her up on the execution platform just like the others. Newly incensed by all the humiliations she’d endured, Kaella fixed her gaze straight ahead and spoke firmly.
The response was utter silence. Yolnes Pare, large as she was, faltered under the Duchess’s sharp reprimand, glancing about nervously. Caught off guard in her attempt to slip past, she couldn’t muster a reply.
Perfect. Having confirmed she held the reins, Kaella promptly shifted her gaze away from Yolnes Pare—to the opposite side, where those distant from the Pare family were gathered.
“You there—start from that side and come forward one by one to introduce yourselves. Yes, you, the one at the very end.”
The plain woman sitting quietly against the wall jumped in surprise at being singled out. Already cowed, she hesitated, eyeing those around her.
“Come on, now.”
No matter how she’d been slighted, Kaella had always maintained her dignity and poise as Duchess to the very end.
Shoulders back, chin slightly raised, she had a knack for speaking clearly and commandingly. This time, her short, firm urging sent the woman hurrying forward to bow.
“F-First time meeting you, Your Highness.”
The voice that emerged first was small and trembling, but composure returned swiftly.
“I am Fabiola, wife of Knight Alfred Sirenster. Congratulations on your marriage, and welcome to Lüsenford.”
The lead greeting was the one others tended to echo. Kaella received congratulations on her marriage and welcomes to Lüsenford one by one from the ladies she already knew.
The women of the Pare, Rulemon, and Dunkaster families—those who had gripped Lüsenford tightly until five of their nobles faced execution—comported themselves with utmost deference toward the Duchess. They bowed more deeply and even professed themselves “delighted” at her presence.
‘Empty words.’
Kaella knew those declarations were glaring lies. Back in her early days as Duchess, it was they who had resented her outspokenness, leading the charge in scorning her alongside the Duke.
They had undoubtedly played their part in framing her and pushing for her confinement. This time, she would strike first and kill before they could victimize her again. Avoiding victimization altogether felt far too optimistic—a pipe dream, really—for her to hold onto.
“I am Merma, wife of Knight Hugo Perweding. It is truly fortunate and joyful that Your Highness has recovered your health. I pray only happy days lie ahead for you in Lüsenford.”
Naturally, some seized the moment as their chance to speak so boldly.
The already rigid atmosphere outright froze. Yolnes Pare and the kin of those recently executed from their families, along with the Windgood kin related to head maid Doris, immediately glared daggers at Merma Perweding.
Now that she thought of it, Sir Hugo Perweding was known for his extraordinary bravery and unyielding character. Spouses tended to resemble one another. Or perhaps Merma Perweding harbored some hidden ambition.
Either way, everyone knew this gathering marked the barely recovered Duchess’s first public appearance—and the occasion to scout a replacement head maid for the exiled Doris Windgood.
“Thank you.”
And so, unlike her previous mere nods, Kaella replied for the first time. The fact that the unsmiling Duchess had deigned to answer carried more than enough meaning. She would ruthlessly exclude those who had ever hurt her.
*
Why had she remembered that first day of performing her Duchess duties? It had been utterly ordinary. On the surface, everything had gone smoothly, leaving Kaella quietly pleased with her own handling of it. Even the maids had rejoiced with her that day.
Today brought no joy, only calm indifference. The noblewomen had offered their greetings to the Duchess, enjoyed the tea spread she provided, and departed.
In the past, she had poured her heart into even the tea spread, innocently thinking that blending Ostein or Kline styles would intrigue them. But this time, Kaella hadn’t spared it a thought.
Every time she faced them, words, expressions, and glances that no longer existed revived to stab at her. She had no interest in assigning meaning to what passed those people’s lips, no desire to put care into it. It wasn’t worth the effort.
“Are you in a good mood, Your Highness?”
Denise, the maid trailing her, asked with a bright smile. In a good mood?
“We’re thrilled too. Seeing them utterly speechless and bowing their heads before our Highness was so incredibly satisfying.”
“Lower your voice, Denise. Someone might hear.”
Cecil chided her while glancing at the Lüsenford knights Pheon had assigned to Kaella, though a smile played on Cecil’s lips as well.
“What if they do? Order has been restored at last, just as it should have been. How dare they pull such barbaric stunts in front of our Highness. I felt so relieved today.”
It was all true. True, yes—but was it wise to say it so openly? Kaella’s heart sank for a moment as she started to caution Denise.
“At least our Highness’s expression has brightened a little, and you’ve even smiled a bit—what a relief.”
Smiled? Unthinkingly, Kaella touched her lips. No, surely not. Just then, Denise and the other chattering maids caught sight of something behind her, startled, and hastily retreated.
“Have you finished now?”
The knights escorting Kaella stood at crisp attention and saluted with a bow of the head, while those attending Pheon did the same toward her.
The tall Duke was already standing three paces away. When had he approached? Wide-eyed in surprise, Kaella barely managed a reply.
“Yes.”
“How was it?”
“Uh, nothing out of the ordinary.”
“No, not that.”
Pheon, who had placed his trusted confidants as her eyes and ears, wasn’t asking about the events themselves.
“Tell me how you felt there—what you were thinking.”
“It was fine…”
“Not ‘fine.’”
Pheon frowned slightly, yet smiled tenderly all the same. Somehow, it seemed he was making an effort to smile.
“Not that word. Try another.”
But it truly had been fine. No annoyance, no wounded pride, no one treating her with contempt or picking fights.
On the contrary, just as Denise had said, seeing them forced to silence and observe proper etiquette had felt perfectly fine—good, even.
Kaella hesitated.
‘I felt good?’
Yes. Precisely exhilarating, gratifying, utterly refreshing. And that made it good.
Absurdly enough, something pleasant had actually happened in Lüsenford.
