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CHAPTER 36
“Dite. I came because I have something to say. I’m coming in.”
Dite’s expression froze the moment she heard that voice. Her gaze darted toward the mess of items scattered around.
“P-please wait a moment, Madam!”
She couldn’t let Madam Cyrilleze see any of this…!
Dite rushed to tidy up the items, but Madam Cyrilleze had already opened the door and stepped into the room.
The lady’s eyes landed on the scattered dresses, jewelry, and shoes. But even after seeing the scene, she showed no surprise. Not a twitch in her expression.
“M-Madam…”
“Dite. Let’s sit first. Make space, please.”
“Y-yes…”
Dite hurriedly moved a black dress that had been draped across the table and chair. It was a revealing dress that clung to the body, exposing the shoulders and back — perfect for a courtesan.
Madam Cyrilleze calmly waited until Dite sat across from her, then began to speak in a heavy, composed voice.
“I’ve been hearing rumors that you’ve been spending time with Marquess Hexion lately.”
“Ah…”
“Calling him to the tower, going out with him — is that true?”
It seemed the madam already knew everything.
Dite had thought she’d evaded the guards, but the surveillance at Wintel Castle was far more thorough than she realized.
She lowered her head, afraid the lady might scold her.
“I understand how you feel. You’re of age now — it’s natural to take interest in men. I’ve been so preoccupied with arranging Cayen’s marriage that I’ve neglected you…”
“…”
“Your solitude is my failure.”
Madam Cyrilleze gave a bitter smile. But Dite, her head still bowed, didn’t see it.
“Dite. Do you wish to become Marquess Hexion’s concubine?”
“N-no.”
“Then… is it some other nobleman’s concubine you wish to be?”
“It’s not that…”
Madam Cyrilleze didn’t want the girl she had raised so tenderly to become a noble’s mistress.
Dite was to live and die as a commoner. No matter what happened, she must remain ignorant of everything — simply a commoner.
That was Dite’s tragically determined fate.
“I don’t want that.”
The madam spoke firmly.
“If the alternative is to burn away your youth as someone’s mistress and die like a mayfly, I would much rather you marry a kind and wealthy commoner and live a long, happy life.”
“…”
“I can provide everything you need for that. Whatever man you choose, I’ll arrange it. The wedding — I’ll make it as grand as you wish.”
“…”
“I’m telling you — that path would be better for your life.”
Dite hesitantly looked up at Madam Cyrilleze. She had expected to be scolded for meeting Marquess Hexion in secret. But instead, the madam was concerned about her future.
‘Madam… I never thought she’d say these things…’
Dite hesitated.
‘Should I just… tell her how I really feel?’
She didn’t want to become a noble’s mistress.
But she also didn’t want to marry some commoner, no matter how wealthy or kind, just because that was what the madam wanted.
‘I want to be Cayen’s mistress.’
What would Madam Cyrilleze say if she confessed she wanted to live with Cayen, to become his mistress?
‘Maybe… maybe she’ll approve. She did say she wanted me to be happy for a long time, didn’t she?’
If she became Cayen’s mistress, she could stay in Wintel Castle — just like now.
With Cayen. With Madam Cyrilleze.
‘I could still see the madam every day. I’d be happy. I wouldn’t need to find another man. It’s perfect, isn’t it?’
Dite’s golden eyelashes trembled as she parted her lips.
“Madam… actually, there’s something I want to tell you.”
Her heart pounded like it might burst.
‘If she says no… I’ll cry and beg her. She cherishes me like a daughter. If I beg like I’ll die without it, maybe she’ll listen.’
Bracing herself, Dite began to speak while nervously anticipating the lady’s reaction. Madam Cyrilleze looked at her with calm, gentle eyes.
“I’m listening, Dite. Go on.”
“Well, um…”
“Yes, dear.”
Swallowing hard, Dite finally confessed the truth.
“The truth is… I like Cayen.”
“…What?”
“I want to be Cayen’s mistress.”
“…”
“If I become Cayen’s mistress, I won’t have to worry about being abandoned when I grow old, right? I can live happily for a long time. Here in Wintel Castle. I won’t have to part from you, either. Isn’t that okay?”
The words she had been holding back spilled out of her like a dam had broken.
She spoke so fiercely that she was left breathless, like she had just run a race.
‘I did it. I said everything…!’
Panting, Dite looked at Madam Cyrilleze, trembling with nervousness and fear, desperate to know how she would react.
‘I hope she’s happy. No, even if she’s not… I’ll persuade her.’
But Dite’s thoughts were far too naïve.
SMACK!
Her head snapped to the side.
It hurt more than when she had been hit by Lady Montmadre — dozens, hundreds, thousands of times more.
“Ah, ah…”
Dite was so shocked, she stammered. She couldn’t even scream.
Her cheek turned bright red and began to swell immediately. A fine scratch from one of the lady’s rings added to the sting.
Slowly, Dite turned to look at Madam Cyrilleze.
“M-Madam…”
The madam’s expression was more shaken than Dite’s. Her lips were tightly shut, and her gray eyes trembled violently.
It was an expression beyond anger — something explosive, something inconceivable.
As if she had just heard the most forbidden of taboos.
Even if Dite had confessed to murder, the lady wouldn’t have reacted like this.
“No.”
“Madam…!”
“No. You two… it cannot happen.”
“B-but I… h-heuk…!”
“You two must never be together! Never!”
Dite collapsed to the floor, sobbing.
The shock of the slap hadn’t even faded, and now she was being screamed at by the one person she thought would understand. It was devastating.
But it didn’t stop there.
Madam Cyrilleze grabbed Dite by the collar, forcing her up.
“Swear it! Look into my eyes and swear it!”
“M-Madam, that hurts! Please let go!”
“Swear it now! That you’ll never see Cayen as a man!”
“Agh, Madam…!”
Dite gasped in pain, struggling to breathe.
Madam Cyrilleze finally let her go — and then covered her own face in agony, as if she were in greater pain than Dite.
“How… how could this happen?”
With trembling hands, she brushed Dite’s disheveled hair back. Seeing her tear-streaked face and swollen cheek, she inhaled sharply.
“I’m sorry, Dite. I lost my mind for a moment.”
“…”
“I’m truly sorry.”
She gently reached out to touch Dite’s swollen cheek, but Dite flinched and slapped her hand away.
“D-don’t touch me.”
“…”
“I don’t want this. Just… please leave.”
“…”
“I want to be alone.”
Dite curled in on herself, rejecting the woman who had always called herself her guardian. Madam Cyrilleze stood frozen, then silently turned and left.
“I understand. I’ll come back later… I’ll send the physician, so be sure to receive magic healing.”
The sound of her steps down the spiral staircase faded away.
Dite clutched her burning cheek, pulling together the ripped collar from where she had been grabbed — and sobbed without a sound.
“…Hhk, h-heuk…”
She never imagined Madam Cyrilleze would react this way.
She had always treated Dite like a daughter. And Dite, in turn, had looked up to her as a mother…
Dite cried until she collapsed from exhaustion.
And just as her consciousness was fading, she heard Marquess Hexion’s voice:
“A noble locked her up and raised her so delicately, she ceased to be a hawk. Her talons dulled, her eyes forgot their sharpness — now she’s just a yellow canary who chirps sweetly.”
Maybe… it had all been Dite’s delusion.
Daughter? Mother?
Perhaps it had only ever been her feelings.
The North sided with Etisha.
She settled into the Wintel family without much trouble, becoming one of their own. She had even recently visited the local shopping district, so she could confidently say she had blended into the North well.
Time passed — and spring arrived.
The Ignivan Empire held its annual Spring Festival, a celebration marking the arrival of warm weather. But in the frigid North, where snow fell year-round, the festival meant little.
Most Northerners simply ignored it.
Still, a few people in the North welcomed this impractical holiday.
One such person was none other than Countess Montmadre.
“Spring Festival Invitation.”
Etisha opened the envelope addressed to her and widened her eyes in surprise.
They’re holding a Spring Festival in the North?
But in this weather, won’t everyone catch colds if it’s held outdoors?
Cayen explained her confusion.
“It’s only called a spring festival. In reality, it’s an indoor party. The countess simply wants to enjoy the mood.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Will you attend?”
Etisha looked up at Cayen. He was holding the exact same invitation.
‘I’ve been in the North long enough now… I guess it’s time I attend one of these things.’
Besides, her dressing room still held 24 untouched party dresses and countless jewels — including the Angel’s Heart.
Cayen had given them all to her, but she hadn’t worn a single one.
“It depends… if the Duke will be my partner, then yes. I’d like to go.”
“Understood. Let’s attend together.”
“Are you sure I’m not interrupting your work?”
“There’s no need to worry about that. In fact, I’d been hoping to accompany you to a few events before the wedding.”
Cayen folded his invitation and placed it on his study desk. Though he said that, the truth was — he didn’t have much spare time.
And certainly not for frivolous parties like this.
“Thank you, Duke.”
Etisha’s voice cut through Cayen’s thoughts.
“Now I can finally wear the dress and necklace you gave me.”
She smiled brightly with her blue eyes twinkling. Cayen stared silently at her delighted face before turning his head away.
What the hell — if he shifted his schedule, he could make time for one spring festival party.
Even if it was meaningless — there would be no chance to attend again once Etisha was gone.
