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chapter 57
The party hosted for the first time by Duchess Prektuester had successfully come to an end.
Serrette’s smile of pride quickly stiffened. She remembered Lydia, who was staying in the guest room.
Last night, Lydia had ultimately not returned home and stayed at the duke’s residence. Serrette couldn’t force someone who was unwell to leave, so she had to suppress the chills running down her spine.
She did not want to stay under the same roof as Lydia. Just thinking about Lydia being in the same space brought memories of a past life, making her uneasy.
“Madam, breakfast is ready,”
Hannah peeked through the open door and called to Serrette.
“Okay.”
Although she didn’t want to tend to Lydia, Serrette had a duty as the lady of the house, so she instructed Hannah to prepare breakfast to bring to her.
When she stepped out of her room, the maid was standing there holding breakfast for Lydia.
“Follow me.”
Serrette headed toward the guest room with the maid.
Knock, knock. Serrette knocked on the door.
“Lydia, it’s me.”
“Come in.”
Lydia’s voice came from inside. Serrette opened the door and stepped in.
Lydia, sitting on the bed, looked healthier than she had the previous day. Her characteristic rosy cheeks looked like luscious fruit today as well.
“How are you feeling, Lydia?”
Serrette asked.
“I’m fine. I feel good.”
Lydia answered with a bright smile.
Indeed, she seemed to be in a good mood. Yesterday, she had seemed unusually tense, but today her face was relaxed and cheerful.
“That’s a relief. You’re not feeling any discomfort, right?”
Even if Lydia felt fine, Serrette wasn’t exactly in high spirits. Still, she forced a smile and tried her best to serve her guest as the lady of the house.
“Yes. Thanks to Yuan, I feel really good.”
“Really?”
It seemed they had reconciled. Hearing Lydia mention Yuan made Serrette’s mouth taste bitter.
“We cleared up a misunderstanding,” Lydia said, her smile growing even brighter.
The brighter Lydia’s smile became, the more Serrette’s mood sank.
It seemed they had some grand romantic dispute. Busy, indeed, Yuan Prektuester—buying a necklace for the duchess, resolving a first-love misunderstanding…
“I brought breakfast. Even if you don’t have much of an appetite, eat a little. You have to eat well.”
Serrette spoke to Lydia while looking at the maid holding the breakfast tray.
“Thank you, Serrette,”
Lydia replied with a happy expression.
“Well, take your time and eat.”
Serrette gave Lydia the breakfast and left the room.
Stepping out of the guest room, Serrette began an unpleasant day.
She gave a small bonus to the staff who had worked hard yesterday, packed up the remaining ingredients, and praised their efforts. She also wrote thank-you letters to the attendees of the party.
She had lunch with Lydia and saw her off with a smiling face. It was the most difficult and exhausting task for Serrette.
After dinner, she went to the study where the library was kept and meticulously documented everything related to the party.
By the time she finished, it was late at night.
“Ugh.”
Exhausted, Serrette stretched, causing the shawl draped over her shoulders to fall.
As she bent to pick it up, she noticed familiar shoes. Their owner had already picked up the shawl before her.
“Not sleeping yet?”
Yuan asked, draping the shawl over Serrette’s shoulders.
“I had some paperwork to finish.”
Serrette leaned on the table and looked up at Yuan.
At that, Yuan picked up the documents Serrette had prepared and began reviewing them. A smile spread across his face.
“Are you satisfied?”
Serrette gave him a crooked look.
“Where did you learn to do this?”
Yuan set the papers down with a surprised expression. Well, she had learned from none other than Yuan Prektuester himself.
“From a difficult man. The only good thing about him is his handsome face.”
Serrette had diligently prepared the documents in her previous life, as it was required to formally document every detail after a party.
‘If this is how it’s going to be, I might as well not do it. A complete waste of time. And paper. Is the duchess always like this?’
After showing her hard work to Yuan, she was met with a very cheeky remark.
Serrette felt sullen, having wasted both paper and time. The party hadn’t been easy, and now even the documentation felt like a failure—she felt like the most useless person in the world.
“Come, sit here.”
Yuan brought a chair for Serrette and had her sit beside him.
That night, Yuan stayed late, teaching Serrette how to properly prepare documents. Thanks to his rigorous guidance, she was able to master it.
“A man?”
Yuan asked sharply.
“Yes. A difficult man, well-known to His Grace the Duke.”
“Who? That difficult man?”
“Think of the most difficult man around you. That’s the one.”
“Derick?”
“Assistant Derick?”
Serrette chuckled, standing up. Why blame an innocent person? Who could be more difficult than herself?
“The way he prepares documents reminded me of Derick.”
Of course, Derick would have learned from Yuan, so it made sense that he came to mind. Serrette smiled at Yuan’s remark.
“A difficult person, I said.”
“Archduke Popplewell?”
Yuan frowned, clearly displeased.
“The Archduke?”
Serrette laughed at poor Regan, who had been dragged into this.
“I know it’s absurd. Regan doesn’t have the ability to prepare documents this neatly.”
“I haven’t seen the Archduke’s paperwork, but he’s certainly not a difficult person.”
Yuan’s serious dismissal of Regan made Serrette chuckle. She wanted to honor their friendship.
“Is that so?”
“The Archduke is kind and gentle. Not difficult at all.”
“Kind and gentle.”
Yuan mimicked Serrette with an annoyed expression. She wondered what her husband would think. Curious about her thoughts.
“Anyone would think that, I suppose.”
Serrette bypassed Yuan and headed toward the bookshelf, with him following slowly.
“Then what kind of man do you think Yuan Prektuester is?”
“I told you already.”
Stopping in front of the bookshelf, Serrette stood on tiptoe, reaching for a book just out of her grasp.
“I don’t recall ever hearing about it.”
Ah, yes. A terrible, detestable being, she had said. Yuan’s lips curled as he remembered what she said at the royal party.
Was I still a detestable, loathsome existence to this woman? Yuan easily pulled the book Serrette had been straining for.
Serrette turned and held out her hand. Yuan was about to give her the book but withdrew his hand instead.
“Am I still a detestable, loathsome being to you?”
Yuan stared into Serrette’s eyes.
She merely smiled quietly. Yes, he was still detestable and loathsome. The man she wished to be the most miserable in the world.
“No answer means yes, then?”
“Not at all. I love my husband dearly.”
Serrette took the book from Yuan with a bright smile.
“Lies.”
Yuan did not believe her. She does not love me. Even though she’s my wife.
“I’m serious. Truly, I love His Grace the Duke sincerely.”
“Then prove it. Prove your love.”
Yuan gently held Serrette’s chin, his languid gaze meeting her lips.
“How am I supposed to prove my love?”
Serrette, nervous, grabbed Yuan’s wrist as he held her chin. A tense, fragile air surrounded them.
“How about showing your love tonight by embracing the husband you love so dearly? It’s the surest way to prove your love.”
Yuan grabbed Serrette by the waist and pulled her close. His gaze traveled from her forehead to her nose and down to her lips.
He wanted to kiss her in succession. To enter through the slightly parted lips, entwining tongues, making her moan, cling…
Serrette, pulled into Yuan’s embrace, looked up at him.
“I do not consent. That’s the only way to prove my love? Do not insult my love.”
She pulled away. She could no longer withstand his gaze.
She remembered the pleasure his touch had given in her past life. Foolishly desiring it made her a little fearful.
“How grandiose is this love, that it warrants a warning against insult?”
Yuan spoke as he watched her walk toward the table with the book. He was exercising the utmost patience.
He wanted to hold the woman who had thrown his mind into chaos, thinking it might bring clarity.
No—it was an excuse. He simply wanted Serrette. To know everything about her, to dominate her with his hands, lips, and actions. A destructive desire consumed him.
“My love…”
Hearing that, Serrette turned. Her blue eyes wavered as she looked at him.
The love I gave you cannot be proven merely by giving my body. You cast it into the gutter, yet it was the brightest, most precious thing I possessed.
“Actually, it’s quite trivial. Worthless.”
Her bitter voice quietly carried.
To Serrette, it was a jewel; to Yuan, it was the most trivial, useless thing in the world—the love she had given him.
