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Chapter 26
The excitement I’d felt at the thought of seeing my favorite was doused as if with a bucket of cold water.
As a die-hard fan of Fey, Withro was a character I wanted kept far away, whether or not he turned out to be Lucas’s killer.
After his business collapsed, he was buried in debt and tried to use “family ties” as an excuse to keep borrowing money from my favorite.
I knew the duke’s death wouldn’t come until much later, but I still worried that the drink in his hand might already be poisoned.
I quickened my pace to step in between them.
“Lucas, Fey.”
I called to them warmly.
My favorite’s expression brightened as he pulled free from the grasp of a middle-aged red-haired woman—Lady Veronica Baalze.
“Aunt!”
He shook off her hand and came running to me. I wrapped his warmth in my left arm as he clung to me.
Lady Baalze looked displeased at having lost hold of Fey, then lifted her head. Our gazes locked midair.
Her eyes clouded as though she’d just spotted a thorn in her side.
But soon the wrinkles around her eyes softened as she clicked closer in high heels.
“Young master, what if she’d been a suspicious stranger? You can’t just go running off like that.”
The sound of her steps stopped right in front of me. She parted her painted red lips only then.
“Oh my. You’re the duchess, aren’t you? Forgive me. I haven’t gotten used to your face yet, and for a moment I worried my grandson had run to a stranger.”
The corners of her mouth arched upward.
“By the time the wedding is held, we won’t have these little mix-ups anymore. Hoho.”
Which translated to: How dare you act like a duchess when you haven’t even had a proper wedding?
Her intention to belittle me was blatant, but I wasn’t the least bit wounded.
I was just… impressed.
Wow. So this is the kind of harassment they were already using back then.
In Silent Night, there was a scene where Laila helped a noblewoman who suffered this very sort of insult.
“I understand perfectly. Time is fair to us all, after all.”
“What, what did you say?”
“Hm? You must’ve mistaken me because of poor eyesight.”
“That’s not it!”
Lady Baalze flushed red and hid behind her fan, her hand trembling.
“This must be why the duke has delayed the wedding ceremony.”
In other words, I wasn’t even acknowledged by the duke as his wife.
“Do you think so too?”
I placed a hand shyly on my cheek and glanced at the duke.
“He said he loved me too much to wait for a ceremony. He wanted the marriage certificate first. Thankfully, the household and Fey already recognize me, so I needn’t worry.”
Meaning: the duke loves me, Fey and the household accept me, so outsiders have no say.
Lady Baalze, displeased that I wouldn’t bend, fanned herself to hide her irritation. Then she turned to Fey.
“Young master, does your aunt treat you well?”
“Yeah!”
“And do you prefer her over me?”
She glanced at me with narrowed eyes, brimming with confidence that Fey would of course choose his grandmother.
I felt bitter just watching.
…How childish.
Asking something like this of a child?
“Yes! I like auntie better!”
I take that back. Not childish at all. Brilliant.
“More than me, your grandmother?”
“Yes!”
Two sharp lines appeared between Lady Baalze’s brows.
“Why?”
My favorite tilted his head almost ninety degrees, blinking as if he didn’t understand why she was upset—he had only done as asked.
My lips twitched upward as I realized he had chosen me.
My favorite really has an eye for people.
Instead of clutching my chest, I hugged Fey tightly.
“Because Fey and I are soulmates. Sorry, madam.”
Unable to contain myself, I grinned so wide my gums showed.
Lady Baalze trembled, then turned and stalked away.
“Why’s she like that?”
“She’s just moved by your answer.”
“Ohh, I see!”
I stroked Fey gently and glanced at the duke.
Because of my clash with Lady Baalze, he had stopped talking to Withro and was watching us.
Didn’t he drink some?
I frowned at the half-empty glass of champagne.
Seriously, how can you drink that without knowing what’s in it?
I walked past Lady Baalze to the duke, Fey in tow.
“Lucas, weren’t you supposed to drink only when it’s just the two of us?”
I clung to his arm, feigning a pout.
“You promised me, remember?”
He hadn’t. Total lie I just made up.
The duke gave me a bewildered look as if asking what on earth I was doing.
Saving your life, that’s what.
Better to be cautious.
He wouldn’t fall ill until years later, but what if the poison worked slowly, taking effect over time?
Silent Night had mentioned just such a poison.
“Fey, your uncle’s breaking his promise.”
“Uncle’s bad!”
“Isn’t he? Very bad.”
The duke’s brows twitched.
At last, unable to withstand our joint assault, he surrendered.
“…I won’t drink any more.”
“Then I take back the ‘bad’!”
“Me too. You’re not bad anymore.”
Instead, I gave him a thumbs-up.
Fey looked up at me and mimicked the gesture.
“You seem close. Hard to believe you only just became family.”
Withro, draining his champagne in one gulp, approached us.
“Of course we’re family.”
“Family. Yes, indeed.”
He laughed airily, breath reeking of alcohol. A fitting image of a wastrel.
“Ah, pleased to meet you, duchess. I am Withro Baalze, viscount and Fey’s uncle.”
He gave me a polite bow.
“My mother owes you thanks. She treasures the young master so dearly that her worry sometimes gets the best of her.”
“I’d likely act the same in her position, so I’ll let it pass this once.”
“Yes, once. Just once.”
Meaning: don’t test me again. Whether he caught the warning or not, he roared with laughter and raised his empty glass, only a few drops dribbling out.
Clicking his tongue, he summoned a servant for a fresh one. As he received it, he suddenly said:
“I heard you came from the frontier, duchess. May I ask the name of the village?”
“It’s called Marne.”
I decided to keep my memory loss secret. Without a clear place of origin, gossip would spread like wildfire.
It was safer to claim a commoner background, as long as it was specific.
Dion had suggested Marne, and I’d agreed.
“It’s a very small place. You probably wouldn’t have heard of it.”
Marne was the outermost village in the duke’s domain.
Withro scratched his head.
“No, I can’t recall hearing of it. You really must have come from far away. But truth be told…”
He sipped, then smirked.
“…I thought perhaps you were from even farther. Abroad, maybe?”
“And why’s that?”
“Well, because you’re too beautiful. If you’d been in this country all along, surely I would have noticed. Ha! The duke’s luck in finding such a beauty before me is enviable.”
He chuckled, alcohol-laced breath filling the air.
I smiled back, humoring his joke.
“Perhaps you could have found me first. But since I have eyes of my own, perhaps it’s you who’s lucky tonight.”
“Pardon?”
“Better to avoid eyeing fruit you can’t have. Saves you a stomachache. How fortunate for you.”
Withro’s face twitched almost imperceptibly.
Just then, the music shifted.
Some nobles began to dance with their partners.
“Auntie, I wanna see you and uncle dance!”
Fey’s cheeks flushed as he looked between us and the dancers.
Oh no. I almost blurted out yes!
That starry-eyed look was dangerously persuasive.
But if we danced, Fey would have to stay with someone else.
At that moment, Lady Baalze interjected.
“Duchess, leave the young master to us. Go dance with the duke, hoho.”
“No, it’s fine.”
They were the least trustworthy, after all.
“Heeeng.”
Fey pouted and looked around. Then he bounced away on short legs.
Moments later, he returned—dragging Talbdr.
“I’ll stay with this grandpa!”
He announced proudly.
Talbdr’s fine, actually.
I recalled his gentle, grandfatherly gaze and nodded. The duke also seemed reassured, his expression softening.
“Haha. I’ll take good care of him!”
Talbdr combed his handsome beard with his fingers and grinned.
Everyone seemed satisfied—except Lady Baalze, who frowned at Fey.
“Young master, would you really choose a stranger magician over your grandmother?”
I scowled.
[Duke Fey, I am your only uncle. How could you be so cold? Do not be stingy—lend me some money.]
In that instant, Withro’s line from Silent Night overlapped perfectly with Lady Baalze’s voice.
“Fey already made his choice. Why press him? You sound like you’re badgering him.”
“Duchess, that’s not what I meant…”
But before she could finish her excuse, her complexion turned pale.
Her eyes had caught the duke’s cold, silent gaze fixed upon her.
