To the delight of the partygoers, fireworks burst into the sky, showering the darkness with sparkles of light and joy. The display of fireworks, known as the flower of the party, elicited audible approval from the guests.
Although one doesn’t see fireworks often, Marilyn couldn’t enjoy them. The young Duke—who had been within her sight just a moment ago—disappeared again.
Although Claude had been late to the event, he performed his duties as her escort properly, wearing a rare, sweet expression on his face. His happiness made Marilyn temporarily forget the horrible scene in the library.
But then, Claude disappeared without a word.
Marilyn, her body pulsating with annoyance and stress, looked around with a sharp gaze.
Claude had never acted like this before. He always towed the line, and that was fine with her. Marilyn had always found Claude’s confidence and coolness—his ability to never give his hand away—charming.
He is an Ihar, thought Marilyn. Such sangfroid seemed like a necessity for the Master of Ihar to possess.
Is she misjudging the situation, or is he actually changing? Is another woman the reason for his coldness to her?
Marilyn shook her head to try to erase the image of Claude’s back at the library.
For a noble to have a mistress is a necessary evil. While it is a sin, it is also a way for nobles to flaunt their charm and wealth.
She didn’t want honesty or principle from Claude, who was to be her husband. He was the most charming man she had ever met. She didn’t think that ladies would leave that kind of man alone. She didn’t really care which woman would help him release any s*xual frustration.
She would be happy having his heart. She would be satisfied ensuring that no one would try to wrest the title of Duchess from her. She was justifying this to herself; this was the cost of trying to own a man that she felt she couldn’t even reach.
But, what if he actually gave his heart to another woman?
“I would like to see the Duke with father and mother,” Marilyn said to a servant, sending him to fetch them.
The Duchess, who had arrived from the North very early in the morning, had worry and concern all over her face. The Emperor, concerned about his sister, handled the situation by having the Duchess unpack in the Palace instead of the Townhouse.
The nobles greeted the Duke and Duchess in turn, followed by Marquis Shelby.
“I’ll let them know,” the servant replied to Marilyn.
“But you, do you know where the young Duke is?” Marilyn asked of the servant.
“He always likes moving around alone. I’m sorry, Miss.”
The servant bowed and started gathering food in small quantities. Marilyn’s eyes narrowed as she saw the variety of meats, fruits, and desserts on the plate the servant held.
Packing up food while everyone was focused on the fireworks? Was it to give it to his family?
“Such two-faced people,” murmured Marilyn.
Marilyn looked depressed as she approached Rosina. She felt jealous of Rosina, who looked happy sitting between the Prince and her fiancé.
The son of a low count approached Marilyn, offered his hand, and spoke. “Miss, would you like to dance with me?”
Marilyn responded by turning her back to him. The man blushed in embarrassment and left. At that moment, Marilyn saw a servant hurriedly going somewhere. It was the same servant who had been packing up food just a moment ago.
More fireworks exploded overhead. Marilyn ignored the joyful reactions of the attendees and focused on the servant. She then moved like she was being dragged.
***
Servant Owen met Claude in front of the door. Claude quickly moved to take the plate from Owen.
Claude nodded saying, “It’s all gourmet.”
“It’s an important day. I’ll bring the drinks soon,” said Owen.
“Thank you, Owen.”
“By the way, Master,” Owen tentatively whispered to Claude. “Miss Marilyn is desperately looking for you. Are you really not going to go down to the ceremony?”
Owen didn’t know who was in the room with Claude. He had dutifully packed enough food for two, including a lot of sweets, at Claude’s orders. Owen assumed that Claude’s guest was a lady, as ladies seem to like sweets.
“The fireworks are prettier up here. Let Miss know that I’ll be back soon, but that she doesn’t have to wait,” Claude instructed.
“Yes,” Owen assented.
“Ah, please bring us non-alcoholic beverages. Juice would be good. Or lemonade.”
“I will.”
After Owen left, Claude brought the food into the room.
Canillian was leaning out the window, awed by the fireworks. Claude smiled at Canillian’s childlike reaction and he couldn’t hold back his admiration.
“Eat something,” prompted Claude.
“You brought food?”
“Not me. Owen,” said Claude, satisfied with the fare Owen had chosen.
The joy of the exploding fireworks was overtaken by hunger. Canillian picked up a fork and started eating, completely unaware of sauce dripping down his face. Claude’s hunger gave way to the delight of watching Canillian, as though Canillian’s eating satiated Claude.
“Wow,” said Canillian, “the Palace cook is really skilled. This is completely different from what I eat at home.”
“The cook at your place is terrible,” noted Claude.
“But, he still makes great stew! And olive bread,” Canillian said, still eating.
The joy that Claude felt when he faced those innocent eyes was such a wonder to Claude.
“Wait. I’ll bring drinks.”
Claude took his gaze off Lia’s lips covered in sauce. It was possible that the servant was waiting outside the door without being able to knock.
Claude left the room with an odd, tight sensation in his heart. But Owen still hadn’t come. Claude then realized that only three minutes had passed. He scoffed at such a revelation. It seems like there is nothing wrong with his health, Claude thought. For whatever reason, Canillian must have gotten on the wrong side of the Marchioness.
Coincidentally, Claude had seen the Marchioness leave Lia’s house early that morning. And a moment later, Canillian, dressed in street clothes, lied about his health and headed to the library.
Claude thought: She raised a fake well and now that Kieran is healthy again, did she feel uncomfortable?
Claude calmly went downstairs. The engagement party would continue for 3 days. He was staring at Kieran and Rosina, who were in the middle of the festivities, and saw the Marquis and Marchioness beside them.
Claude noticed that, unlike Marchioness—who looked happy while speaking with the Emperor—Gliad looked concerned. Claude also noted that Ian Sergio was smiling, but with a weirdly stern look.
Claude nodded at the Marquis, took a few bottles of drink and turned.
“Young Duke, you’re here! Our Lady has been looking for you,” said Marilyn’s maid.
“Where’s your mistress?”
“Our Lady is over… huh? Where did she go?” The maid couldn’t hide her confusion. She had just seen Marilyn near Rosina a moment ago.
Claude picked up an orange drink and turned. “How unfortunate.”
The maid’s face turned bright red at his insincere tone. He handed the bottles to Owen, who was packing drinks, and went back into the building.
“What about Lian?” spoke Ian Sergio casually, as he trailed behind Claude. Ian had just been with the Emperor. Claude scoffed at Ian’s tone. It was as if he knew that Claude would be with Canillian.
“Why are you here, leaving His Majesty alone?”
“Business talk is so boring,” Ian replied. “My half of the neutral territory is where the diamonds are. He said he’ll sign a peace treaty if I give him the right to trade. It isn’t a condition I want, so I told him I would think about it. Kayan’s Emperor is so two-faced.”
He was bad mouthing the Emperor, but Claude didn’t care. He just calmly walked past Ian and went up the stairs. Ian, scoffing, followed him.
When Claude arrived at the top, he found the door he had left closed was now half open. This was followed by a lady’s sharp voice.
“Marilyn Shelby?” Claude asked aloud.
***
Lia, just as bewildered as Marilyn, stepped back. Marilyn, biting her lower lip, approached Lia.
“Miss, what are you doing?”
“Was it you who was at the library, Sir?” Marilyn demanded.
“Library? I, I was always here. I wasn’t feeling well.”
“Lies!”
“Miss, I don’t know why you’re angry,” stammered Lia. “But you can’t act like this.”
“Why?” said Marilyn, getting closer.
“That’s—”
Lia couldn’t step back any further. She faced the aggressive Marilyn.
Marilyn came nose-to-nose with Lia, grabbed her collar, and tore it. Buttons popped off, exposing the shoulder wrap of her undergarments.
A surprised Lia slapped Marilyn’s hands away. “What are you doing?” she cried.
“I found something weird—something off—from the beginning. Actually, it became weird immediately upon your arrival to the Capital.”
“I, I don’t know what became weird,” Lia sputtered. “You must calm down, Miss.”
“Calm down? Ha! So cruel! Prove it to me.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Prove to me that I misunderstand the situation!” Marilyn shouted, as she grabbed Canillian’s shirt again. She looked possessed by a demon. Canillian felt like he was dealing with an unleashed beast.
LIa grabbed Marilyn’s hands to stop them from ripping her shirt off and pushed her away. If this continued, Lia’s undergarments would be completely revealed!
Marilyn weakened and fell onto a little bed.
Lia jumped on top of Marilyn and swiftly pinned her down. She had learned how to ride a horse and how to handle a sword. She also swam and ran frequently enough; she is so much stronger than Marilyn. Her strength might not be much against men, but most ladies would not be able to best her.
Marilyn, who seemed surprised by the strength that came from such small body, looked up with trembling eyes.
Lia spoke with confidence: “I don’t know what kind of misunderstanding this is, but no. Whatever you are worried about won’t happen. I can promise.”
Marilyn’s eyes teared up in response.
The moment Lia released Marilyn’s hands, the lady forcefully slapped Canillian’s face, exclaiming, “How rude, Sir! How dare you do this to a lady!”
The slap was so hard that Lia instinctively covered her cheek and jumped off of Marilyn. Marilyn tidied up the hem of her dress and stood up, looking much calmer.
Lia stood back by the window, trying to calm down.
“I’m sorry, Miss.”
“It’s a fraud, Sir,” whispered Marilyn profoundly as she stared at Lia’s chest.
Lia’s hands, already holding her torn shirt, went pale.
“Don’t be greedy. In a man’s body. It’s despicable.” Marilyn spat out this invective and whirled around, only to meet Claude’s eyes as he stood in the doorway.
“Sir Claude,” said the surprised Marilyn formally. “I was looking for you everywhere and ended up here. Are you surprised?”
Marilyn’s legs were trembling as she took a step forward. Claude held out his hand.
He approached Marilyn with a neutral face, took her hand, and spoke. “It’s red.”
Marilyn took her hand away from him and carefully hid it. “It’s nothing.”
“No, it seems like there’s a scratch. There will be punishment.” His gaze went to Lia standing by the window. He spoke in a low tone: “To scratch what’s mine, will cost dearly.”
To the delight of the partygoers, fireworks burst into the sky, showering the darkness with sparkles of light and joy. The display of fireworks, known as the flower of the party, elicited audible approval from the guests.
Although one doesn’t see fireworks often, Marilyn couldn’t enjoy them. The young Duke—who had been within her sight just a moment ago—disappeared again.
Although Claude had been late to the event, he performed his duties as her escort properly, wearing a rare, sweet expression on his face. His happiness made Marilyn temporarily forget the horrible scene in the library.
But then, Claude disappeared without a word.
Marilyn, her body pulsating with annoyance and stress, looked around with a sharp gaze.
Claude had never acted like this before. He always towed the line, and that was fine with her. Marilyn had always found Claude’s confidence and coolness—his ability to never give his hand away—charming.
He is an Ihar, thought Marilyn. Such sangfroid seemed like a necessity for the Master of Ihar to possess.
Is she misjudging the situation, or is he actually changing? Is another woman the reason for his coldness to her?
Marilyn shook her head to try to erase the image of Claude’s back at the library.
For a noble to have a mistress is a necessary evil. While it is a sin, it is also a way for nobles to flaunt their charm and wealth.
She didn’t want honesty or principle from Claude, who was to be her husband. He was the most charming man she had ever met. She didn’t think that ladies would leave that kind of man alone. She didn’t really care which woman would help him release any s*xual frustration.
She would be happy having his heart. She would be satisfied ensuring that no one would try to wrest the title of Duchess from her. She was justifying this to herself; this was the cost of trying to own a man that she felt she couldn’t even reach.
But, what if he actually gave his heart to another woman?
“I would like to see the Duke with father and mother,” Marilyn said to a servant, sending him to fetch them.
The Duchess, who had arrived from the North very early in the morning, had worry and concern all over her face. The Emperor, concerned about his sister, handled the situation by having the Duchess unpack in the Palace instead of the Townhouse.
The nobles greeted the Duke and Duchess in turn, followed by Marquis Shelby.
“I’ll let them know,” the servant replied to Marilyn.
“But you, do you know where the young Duke is?” Marilyn asked of the servant.
“He always likes moving around alone. I’m sorry, Miss.”
The servant bowed and started gathering food in small quantities. Marilyn’s eyes narrowed as she saw the variety of meats, fruits, and desserts on the plate the servant held.
Packing up food while everyone was focused on the fireworks? Was it to give it to his family?
“Such two-faced people,” murmured Marilyn.
Marilyn looked depressed as she approached Rosina. She felt jealous of Rosina, who looked happy sitting between the Prince and her fiancé.
The son of a low count approached Marilyn, offered his hand, and spoke. “Miss, would you like to dance with me?”
Marilyn responded by turning her back to him. The man blushed in embarrassment and left. At that moment, Marilyn saw a servant hurriedly going somewhere. It was the same servant who had been packing up food just a moment ago.
More fireworks exploded overhead. Marilyn ignored the joyful reactions of the attendees and focused on the servant. She then moved like she was being dragged.
***
Servant Owen met Claude in front of the door. Claude quickly moved to take the plate from Owen.
Claude nodded saying, “It’s all gourmet.”
“It’s an important day. I’ll bring the drinks soon,” said Owen.
“Thank you, Owen.”
“By the way, Master,” Owen tentatively whispered to Claude. “Miss Marilyn is desperately looking for you. Are you really not going to go down to the ceremony?”
Owen didn’t know who was in the room with Claude. He had dutifully packed enough food for two, including a lot of sweets, at Claude’s orders. Owen assumed that Claude’s guest was a lady, as ladies seem to like sweets.
“The fireworks are prettier up here. Let Miss know that I’ll be back soon, but that she doesn’t have to wait,” Claude instructed.
“Yes,” Owen assented.
“Ah, please bring us non-alcoholic beverages. Juice would be good. Or lemonade.”
“I will.”
After Owen left, Claude brought the food into the room.
Canillian was leaning out the window, awed by the fireworks. Claude smiled at Canillian’s childlike reaction and he couldn’t hold back his admiration.
“Eat something,” prompted Claude.
“You brought food?”
“Not me. Owen,” said Claude, satisfied with the fare Owen had chosen.
The joy of the exploding fireworks was overtaken by hunger. Canillian picked up a fork and started eating, completely unaware of sauce dripping down his face. Claude’s hunger gave way to the delight of watching Canillian, as though Canillian’s eating satiated Claude.
“Wow,” said Canillian, “the Palace cook is really skilled. This is completely different from what I eat at home.”
“The cook at your place is terrible,” noted Claude.
“But, he still makes great stew! And olive bread,” Canillian said, still eating.
The joy that Claude felt when he faced those innocent eyes was such a wonder to Claude.
“Wait. I’ll bring drinks.”
Claude took his gaze off Lia’s lips covered in sauce. It was possible that the servant was waiting outside the door without being able to knock.
Claude left the room with an odd, tight sensation in his heart. But Owen still hadn’t come. Claude then realized that only three minutes had passed. He scoffed at such a revelation. It seems like there is nothing wrong with his health, Claude thought. For whatever reason, Canillian must have gotten on the wrong side of the Marchioness.
Coincidentally, Claude had seen the Marchioness leave Lia’s house early that morning. And a moment later, Canillian, dressed in street clothes, lied about his health and headed to the library.
Claude thought: She raised a fake well and now that Kieran is healthy again, did she feel uncomfortable?
Claude calmly went downstairs. The engagement party would continue for 3 days. He was staring at Kieran and Rosina, who were in the middle of the festivities, and saw the Marquis and Marchioness beside them.
Claude noticed that, unlike Marchioness—who looked happy while speaking with the Emperor—Gliad looked concerned. Claude also noted that Ian Sergio was smiling, but with a weirdly stern look.
Claude nodded at the Marquis, took a few bottles of drink and turned.
“Young Duke, you’re here! Our Lady has been looking for you,” said Marilyn’s maid.
“Where’s your mistress?”
“Our Lady is over… huh? Where did she go?” The maid couldn’t hide her confusion. She had just seen Marilyn near Rosina a moment ago.
Claude picked up an orange drink and turned. “How unfortunate.”
The maid’s face turned bright red at his insincere tone. He handed the bottles to Owen, who was packing drinks, and went back into the building.
“What about Lian?” spoke Ian Sergio casually, as he trailed behind Claude. Ian had just been with the Emperor. Claude scoffed at Ian’s tone. It was as if he knew that Claude would be with Canillian.
“Why are you here, leaving His Majesty alone?”
“Business talk is so boring,” Ian replied. “My half of the neutral territory is where the diamonds are. He said he’ll sign a peace treaty if I give him the right to trade. It isn’t a condition I want, so I told him I would think about it. Kayan’s Emperor is so two-faced.”
He was bad mouthing the Emperor, but Claude didn’t care. He just calmly walked past Ian and went up the stairs. Ian, scoffing, followed him.
When Claude arrived at the top, he found the door he had left closed was now half open. This was followed by a lady’s sharp voice.
“Marilyn Shelby?” Claude asked aloud.
***
Lia, just as bewildered as Marilyn, stepped back. Marilyn, biting her lower lip, approached Lia.
“Miss, what are you doing?”
“Was it you who was at the library, Sir?” Marilyn demanded.
“Library? I, I was always here. I wasn’t feeling well.”
“Lies!”
“Miss, I don’t know why you’re angry,” stammered Lia. “But you can’t act like this.”
“Why?” said Marilyn, getting closer.
“That’s—”
Lia couldn’t step back any further. She faced the aggressive Marilyn.
Marilyn came nose-to-nose with Lia, grabbed her collar, and tore it. Buttons popped off, exposing the shoulder wrap of her undergarments.
A surprised Lia slapped Marilyn’s hands away. “What are you doing?” she cried.
“I found something weird—something off—from the beginning. Actually, it became weird immediately upon your arrival to the Capital.”
“I, I don’t know what became weird,” Lia sputtered. “You must calm down, Miss.”
“Calm down? Ha! So cruel! Prove it to me.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Prove to me that I misunderstand the situation!” Marilyn shouted, as she grabbed Canillian’s shirt again. She looked possessed by a demon. Canillian felt like he was dealing with an unleashed beast.
LIa grabbed Marilyn’s hands to stop them from ripping her shirt off and pushed her away. If this continued, Lia’s undergarments would be completely revealed!
Marilyn weakened and fell onto a little bed.
Lia jumped on top of Marilyn and swiftly pinned her down. She had learned how to ride a horse and how to handle a sword. She also swam and ran frequently enough; she is so much stronger than Marilyn. Her strength might not be much against men, but most ladies would not be able to best her.
Marilyn, who seemed surprised by the strength that came from such small body, looked up with trembling eyes.
Lia spoke with confidence: “I don’t know what kind of misunderstanding this is, but no. Whatever you are worried about won’t happen. I can promise.”
Marilyn’s eyes teared up in response.
The moment Lia released Marilyn’s hands, the lady forcefully slapped Canillian’s face, exclaiming, “How rude, Sir! How dare you do this to a lady!”
The slap was so hard that Lia instinctively covered her cheek and jumped off of Marilyn. Marilyn tidied up the hem of her dress and stood up, looking much calmer.
Lia stood back by the window, trying to calm down.
“I’m sorry, Miss.”
“It’s a fraud, Sir,” whispered Marilyn profoundly as she stared at Lia’s chest.
Lia’s hands, already holding her torn shirt, went pale.
“Don’t be greedy. In a man’s body. It’s despicable.” Marilyn spat out this invective and whirled around, only to meet Claude’s eyes as he stood in the doorway.
“Sir Claude,” said the surprised Marilyn formally. “I was looking for you everywhere and ended up here. Are you surprised?”
Marilyn’s legs were trembling as she took a step forward. Claude held out his hand.
He approached Marilyn with a neutral face, took her hand, and spoke. “It’s red.”
Marilyn took her hand away from him and carefully hid it. “It’s nothing.”
“No, it seems like there’s a scratch. There will be punishment.” His gaze went to Lia standing by the window. He spoke in a low tone: “To scratch what’s mine, will cost dearly.”
