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Chapter 3
[Letter]
Lady Sharatte,
I’m glad to hear you enjoyed your time at the villa.
I hope this letter reaches you before the Summer Ball. I’ve prepared a small gift for you as an apology for not being able to attend together.
Circumstances may prevent me from replying for a while, so please don’t worry if you don’t hear back from me.
Betty was stunned for two reasons the moment she read the unexpected reply.
First, she was shocked that the Grand Duke actually read the letter she had written.
Second, despite it being a personal letter, it was written with such clipped greetings and businesslike formality, as if he were drafting a to-do list.
“Has he never written a personal letter before?”
Well, considering his only superior was the Emperor and his only companions were his retainers, he likely had no reason or need to exchange pleasantries in letter form.
Still, judging from the not-at-all modest gifts he sent—dresses and jewelry—it seemed like that alone was enough.
The Duke of Sharatte appeared especially pleased with this visible display of favor. Proof of this was how he lifted the month-long punishment he had imposed on his daughter for pouring tea over another noble lady’s head.
“Seriously, what’s the point of keeping me grounded for a whole month? I didn’t even get to go dress shopping. We had to call the tailor in instead.”
The young lady’s grumbling sounded more like frustration over not satisfying her vanity.
She had wanted to flaunt the prestige and wealth of House Sharatte by parading around the city shops with her circle of noble friends.
Instead, she’d been stuck in her room—and that was the real issue.
“Anyway, well done. You really do get things done. I like that. Keep it up.”
In any case, praise was praise, and Betty was relieved.
Just as she picked up her quill and began to seriously consider how to phrase this next letter, the lady who had been staring out the window for quite some time suddenly declared,
“I’m going for a walk in the garden. You stay here and keep writing.”
“My lady, shall I come with you—?”
Betty hastily stood and grabbed a shawl, but Lady Sharatte snatched it from her hand and said firmly, as if issuing a decree:
“Stay. I don’t like repeating myself.”
“Understood.”
Betty wrestled between two thoughts—I can’t leave the lady alone versus nothing bad is likely to happen inside the ducal estate. In the end, the latter won.
Not to mention, she didn’t want to test the good mood of a young lady who was happily humming as she wrapped the shawl around herself.
“Oh, right. Here, take this.”
Her gesture was careless, but the item was far from insignificant.
It was the ruby ring included in the Grand Duke’s gift—a selection likely made by his steward.
“I can’t possibly accept something like this, my lady.”
“Can’t accept it? You do a good job playing the noble, don’t you? Anyway, I’m sick of rubies. They say it matches my hair color, so I’ve received too many. Sending another ruby? No sense of taste.”
As she fussed over her hair in the mirror, she locked eyes with Betty in the reflection.
“You know why I’m giving this to you, right?”
Of course. It was a warning—to keep her mouth shut. The ring in Betty’s hand suddenly felt heavier, its presence undeniable.
“Yes. I understand.”
Did the Grand Duke know how lightly his gift was being treated?
If he took the time to read the letter and send a gift with sincere interest in the recipient’s daily life, then this should’ve meant something.
Even though it wasn’t her concern, Betty couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable.
“I’ll make sure to write multiple thank-yous in the letter.”
After all, it was she who would be writing it.
So showing proper gratitude was also her responsibility.
“Write the letter yourself and seal it. Just place it on the tray when you’re done, so it can be sent out right away.”
With that absurd order, the lady left the room, clearly distracted by something.
Betty didn’t even have time to express her shock at being tasked with something a mere maid should never be allowed to do.
Vivian Sharatte had vanished like the wind, as if she were late for an appointment.
Only Betty remained—holding the ruby ring in her hand.
“Is it really okay for me to keep this…?”
The ruby atop the simple silver band shimmered in the light, flaunting its beauty.
Betty couldn’t bring herself to even try it on. Instead, she slipped it into her pocket.
Selling it could greatly help her aunt’s household—and her own situation.
But for some reason, she didn’t want to do that right away.
Just imagining the Grand Duke reading her writing so carefully made her feel like someone truly seen, like she was living a meaningful life.
Even though she knew full well it was a delusion born of fantasy.
[Letter]
To His Grace, Grand Duke Dayban,
I received the gifts you sent and am deeply grateful. Each and every item was beautiful, and the fact that they came from you made them all the more meaningful.
The jewelry and dresses piled up so high that it took me half a day just to sort through them all—though I enjoyed every moment of it.
The ruby ring, in particular, was breathtaking. It matched my hair so perfectly, I fell in love with it at first sight.
On the other hand, I worry that I’ve caused unnecessary trouble for you when you’re likely very busy, while I enjoy a more leisurely life.
Please don’t feel obligated to reply anymore. Just knowing from your last letter that you actually read mine made me leap with joy.
I hope my frequent letters haven’t become a bother to you. I never thought of my writing as long-winded, since I’ve always kept lengthy journals, but now I’m wondering if I’ve been overdoing it.
If they’re too much to read, you can simply set them aside.
Daily life in the capital tends to be dull and uneventful, so writing to you is the most enjoyable and exciting part of my days.
In a previous letter, I wrote as if I were sad to see summer end, but truthfully, I’m glad to escape the heat.
Though I’ll miss the sweet summer fruits, the apple pie made by our estate’s chef is truly delicious.
It may be difficult this year, but I hope we can enjoy that apple pie together next year.
As always, I end this letter wishing for your continued health and well-being.
Sincerely,
Vivian Sharatte.
Betty remained alone in the lady’s room, writing the letter with care.
But once it was complete, she hesitated, seriously debating whether it was appropriate to send.
She was far too giddy at the thought that someone might be reading her words so carefully.
Her thoughts and feelings were poured into this letter more sincerely than ever before—making it feel entirely unfit for a letter supposedly written by a noble lady, but in truth, penned by a maid.
“But still…”
Maybe just this once, it would be okay.
Surely Grand Duke Ian Dayban had long forgotten about her, if he ever noticed her in the first place.
But thanks to his silence over the wine incident—the one that ruined his clothes—she was able to keep her job.
If he had demanded consequences, she might’ve been expelled from the Sharatte household, unable to find work elsewhere in the capital.
“Yes. This is a thank-you for that moment.”
It was a poor excuse, and she knew it.
Still, part of her wanted to convey that his kindness hadn’t gone unnoticed—even through such an overly emotional letter.
In the end, Betty decided to send the letter as-is—just this once.
As she nervously sealed the envelope and prepared to place the letter on the tray—
A shadow moved in the garden outside, under the pale glow of the moon.
“…Who’s there?”
It was late into the night. Betty had spent too long debating whether to send the letter.
Even the household staff were likely asleep. The house was at its quietest.
“No way…”
She squinted, trying to make out the figure.
Not just one—but two people.
The moment she recognized their faces, she gasped and stepped away from the window.
“No way. Why is my lady…?”
