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Chapter 2
“What?”
Gillian’s eyebrow twitched.
The Duke of Krembel was a man who normally kept his expressions firmly under control.
For him to show such a face today—
Ellen found the sight oddly amusing as she spoke.
“Then… next time we meet, I hope that document will bear your seal.”
Their eyes met.
His gaze was full of doubt and bewilderment at the situation.
It was an expression she had never seen before in her previous life.
Are you that flustered that I’m not moving according to your will?
If so, then why, in the life where I spent every day obeying your will…
Her chest grew cold. A sticky feeling spread between her ribs, and it was unbearably unpleasant.
Ellen averted her eyes from Gillian and, without offering any formal farewell, turned on her heel and left the study.
Gillian, who had been staring blankly at her departing figure, belatedly shouted at his butler.
“…James!”
He said no more, but the meaning was clear.
‘Don’t let that woman leave—bring her back.’
James, the butler of the ducal household, had been stunned by the absurdity of the situation. But upon hearing his master’s shout, he hurried after Ellen and called out.
“My lady!”
James grabbed Ellen’s wrist.
But the surprise didn’t end there.
The duchess suddenly shook him off and, with fierce authority, snapped at him.
“How dare a mere commoner lay hands on a noble’s body!”
“…The master calls for you. Please, return inside.”
“I have no reason to obey. I no longer consider myself a Krembel. I intend to return to the Cryant family, so step aside.”
“My lady, if you do that…”
James tried to hold onto her again.
But Ellen, wearing a blatant sneer she had never once shown while living in the ducal estate, said:
“My lady? Have you ever truly treated me as such?”
“My lady, what are you saying…!”
“Drop the pathetic pretense. Tend to your duties in the Krembel estate. I am going back to Cryant, and if you lay a hand on me again, I will cut off your wrist.”
At that chilling threat, James’s face turned pale.
He could not simply let her go, but he also could no longer recklessly grab her arm.
And while he hesitated—Ellen had already passed through the front gates of the ducal estate.
This is a real disaster…!
James sighed heavily as he watched her figure grow smaller in the distance.
Clang!
A crystal ashtray shattered against the floor.
“Can’t you even handle something so simple?”
Gillian frowned, irritation creasing his brow.
“Why has that woman suddenly lost her mind? Just yesterday she was quiet, so why today does she suddenly act like this? Tell me what you know.”
At the duke’s question, James lowered his head.
It seemed the servants’ issues were significant, yet he dared not speak them aloud before his master.
The truth was, he wanted to deny it, but his suspicion was most likely correct.
But Gillian was not a man who waited patiently for answers.
“Have you no tongue? If it’s useless, I might as well cut it out.”
The cold and cutting tone was deadly.
At last, James opened his mouth in a trembling voice.
“…It seems there were problems with the servants. The fault is mine. I beg your pardon.”
“The servants? Why? To my eyes, none are better trained than ours.”
Gillian looked puzzled.
His daily life was always prepared to schedule.
Meals to his taste, appearances in order.
There could be no problems here.
As Gillian sneered, muttering that he was curious what nonsense James would come up with, James carefully spoke.
“It seems there have been… small issues in serving the lady. Since everything in the estate revolves around your needs, there were aspects that did not suit her.”
“Spare me the chatter—get to the point. What problem, and why?”
“Many mistakes were made by the maids attending her. I believe her resentment accumulated…”
James trailed off, and Gillian let out a short, incredulous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.
“So, I placed clumsy fools in her service, and instead of realizing it was my mistake, I just dismissed it? How ridiculous.”
James, watching carefully, corrected him in a cautious tone.
“The problem was… whenever the lady requested punishments for those mistakes, you rejected them, my lord.”
“…What?”
At Gillian’s sharp response, James quickly recited the answer his master demanded.
“For example, most recently, a maid spilled tea on the lady, and she suffered a burn on her arm. The lady sought to discipline the maid, but you dismissed it.”
The duke himself felt a flicker of unease.
A mere servant had dared injure the mistress of the house, and yet had continued serving?
“…Even with such a report, I refused punishment?”
Perhaps he had not read the full report.
So he asked, but the answer was not what he hoped.
“Yes, that was the case.”
A dull throb pulsed in Gillian’s temples.
He had been busy with countless affairs.
Anything that didn’t directly require his hand, he had either left as it was or shoved aside.
“…Then there must have been other cases. Speak.”
“As similar incidents accumulated, all the skilled, experienced servants were assigned to your care, while the inexperienced and untrained were left to the lady.”
Those who attended him were always flawless.
Now, faint memories surfaced—he had seen his wife’s petitions before, but dismissed them, thinking her overly sensitive and bothersome.
He had assumed the butler would handle training and discipline.
Never had he imagined such issues piled up.
“…You’re not recounting all this thinking you did well, are you?”
“I am sorry.”
Apologies were all James could offer now.
But inside, he too felt resentment.
Had his master only shown the duchess a bit more care, things would never have gotten this bad.
Priorities always existed—and here, the duchess had simply been pushed lower and lower.
Of course, Gillian was not a man to tolerate such excuses. James could only shrink back.
Gillian, at a loss for words, rubbed his face harshly, then said:
“…Negligence is grounds for dismissal. You, and all those useless maids. Replace them all. Investigate everyone, immediately!”
His furious shout rang through the office.
James, frightened, rushed out to obey.
Ellen stared blankly at the crowds bustling around her.
The city was as lively as ever, despite her storming out in anger.
She had returned from death, carrying miracle and fury alike—and yet the world spun on unchanged.
She gazed at the street in a daze, then snapped herself back, patting her cheeks.
No, don’t waste time. Think, then act.
She headed toward the carriage stand to hire transport.
Where to go? To see Father…? The trading house? No, too obvious. If I go straight to the estate, Gillian will send men after me. That won’t work either.
Gillian hated nothing more than household disorder leaking to the outside world.
So for now, he would not take drastic public action.
But that also meant if she drew too much attention, he would move quickly.
Somewhere outside Krembel territory, but not suspicious…
If she tried to flee too far too suddenly, it would only provoke him.
Better to make it seem like a brief outing, a small matter, nothing more.
The capital will do. There’s a route there that bypasses Krembel land entirely.
But she didn’t want to go to the Cryant residence in the capital—he’d find her too quickly.
Then where?
Ah. That hotel.
The one she had once visited with the Crown Prince.
In those days, for reasons of his own, the prince would sometimes sneak out of the palace.
On occasion, he would coax the duke to join him, and together they had visited that hotel.
The prince fancied it clever to disguise himself as the servants of the ducal couple.
Wearing clothes of questionable origin, he played the part of their attendant. But with his constant joking and loud laughter, he looked nothing like a servant.
Out of this whole vast land, that’s the only place I can think of outside my family ties.
And yet—it was also a place she had visited with the man her husband would later murder.
Ellen gave a bitter smile and moved on.
Fortunately, a coachman was waiting at the stand.
He eyed her appearance—alone—and asked:
“Where to, ma’am?”
“To the capital. Here’s the fare.”
Ellen pulled out one of her wedding jewels and handed it over.
The coachman examined it, saw it was real gold, and beamed, quickly climbing onto the driver’s seat.
The carriage started off, rolling down the wide road toward the outskirts of Krembel land.
The open view of the canal at the boundary gleamed brilliantly.
Sunlight reflected in dazzling waves, wind carrying the scent of the river.
A strange, warm thrill bubbled up in Ellen’s chest.
The wide sky and river, unobstructed, felt liberating.
“Why didn’t I do this sooner…?”
Escaping had been this easy all along.
The foolish woman who thought loving him meant loving herself had been killed.
Now, she was Ellen Cryant.
A woman ready to build a new life.
For the first time, her chest filled with breath.
Ellen let out a laugh to herself, light and free.
