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chapter 68
Attending a party you don’t want to go to is truly a hassle. Serret had thought that more than a hundred times while sitting at the tea party Lydia had invited her to.
She hadn’t wanted to come, but since Lydia had apologized for canceling the party she had planned on the 17th and reopened it, Serret felt obliged to attend.
Since it looked like Lydia had made a concession on the date, it would definitely raise eyebrows if Serret didn’t show up.
So, Serret was now forcibly listening to the young ladies and wives chatting, smiling as if she were enjoying herself.
“There is no flower more beautiful than you. Please accept my heart, Rosalind.” The man extended a flower toward her.
“How romantic!”
“Did Mr. Factor have that side to him?”
As the conversation about one young lady’s engagement grew more lively, Serret glanced at Lydia.
Yuan hadn’t yet realized his own feelings for Lydia. When, then, would he come to love her?
He had such a lovely, beautiful woman by his side all this time and still hadn’t realized his own heart. Quite a dense man, really.
“Serret, is the coffee alright?”
Feeling the gaze on her, Lydia looked at Serret and asked.
“Yes, it smells nice and is smooth—perfect for drinking,” Serret replied with an elegant smile.
“That’s a relief. By the way, are you truly okay? I was so startled. My heart raced when I heard the news about you.”
Lydia placed her hand on her chest, genuinely worried. Serret nearly fell for it.
Had it not been for her memories from her past life, she probably would have. Serret smiled with a small eye-smile.
“I caused you concern, Lydia. I’m really fine now.”
“It’s such a relief that you’re safe, Serret.”
Lydia looked at her with a face full of relief.
At that moment, Miss Grint asked Serret:
“By the way, why did you go to such a place?”
Serret turned her gaze away from Lydia and looked at Miss Grint.
“There was an issue with one of the duchess’s maids.”
Serret straightened her posture with a serious expression, sneaking a glance at Lydia. Lydia listened without any change in expression.
“I went to the Berun estate to look into it.”
As she spoke, Serret kept observing Lydia’s expression, unable to shake her suspicion. No matter how she thought about it, it seemed Lydia had something to do with Sophia’s death.
“What happened?”
Mrs. Simkins spoke, curiosity evident on her face.
It seemed that Sophia’s story hadn’t spread because of the attack on the duchess.
“Well…”
Serret slowly brought up Sophia’s case.
As she finished recounting it, a collective sigh escaped from the ladies. They looked at her, surprised.
“Oh my, heavens.”
“Did that really happen?”
“A suicide?”
Each lady spoke in disbelief.
Through it all, Lydia calmly sipped her tea. Serret studied her face while continuing.
“I can’t bring myself to believe the Young investigation’s results.”
“You can’t believe it?”
Lydia placed her teacup down and slightly wrinkled the bridge of her nose.
“Sophia wasn’t the type to leave her siblings behind and take her own life.”
Serret said this firmly, meeting Lydia’s eyes directly.
“She must have been a maid you were fond of?”
“Rather than being fond, I simply learned of her unfortunate circumstances and couldn’t help but care.”
“How kind of you.”
Lydia smiled faintly at Serret’s words.
Thinking about the meaning of that smile, Serret continued:
“I’m curious about where Sophia obtained the poison. It’s not something easily found. The police say she made it herself, but that’s hard to believe.”
“If the maid’s note says she made it herself, shouldn’t we trust that? I worry you might get into danger again, Serret.”
Lydia looked at her with a deep sigh.
Serret met her gaze. Their eyes collided in the air, both faces expressionless as if examining each other.
Then Serret smiled faintly.
“Thank you for worrying about me, Lydia. As you said, perhaps it’s best to just believe it.”
Outwardly, she nodded as if agreeing, but Serret had other thoughts.
She’s onto something, Lydia. You said Sophia’s note came out, but you didn’t mention its contents. How did she know it said Sophia made the poison herself?
At that moment, Miss Grint’s eyes widened as she asked:
“Did the note really say the maid made the poison herself?”
Miss Grint looked at Serret, clearly hearing this for the first time.
Serret glanced at Lydia. She flinched slightly, making Serret smirk inwardly.
“Yes, the note said that. She made the poison herself.”
“Oh my! Is that maid perhaps of the Held tribe? Otherwise, how could that be possible? Poison isn’t like chocolate, after all.”
“Not all Held can make poison, you know.”
“But if they set their minds to it, couldn’t they? Ugh, the Held tribe gives me chills.”
As Miss Grint spoke with another young lady and shook her head, the atmosphere turned tense.
Lydia’s mother had been of the Held tribe, meaning Lydia had Held blood as well. That one remark made the room grow icy.
Though she didn’t show it, anger flashed in Lydia’s eyes. Serret sipped her coffee, pretending to notice nothing.
Realizing the tension, Miss Grint looked around, understood something, and covered her mouth in shock.
Mrs. Simkins quickly changed the topic.
“Maybe because it’s getting hot, we’ve been eating only sherbet these days.”
“I feel the same. Summer is already here.”
Miss Grint quickly agreed. Serret felt a twinge of pity for the young lady’s awkward smile.
What a tiresome tea party, Serret thought, watching their pretentious faces.
After the tedious and exhausting tea party ended, Serret exchanged polite smiles and left the tea room.
Since she was at the palace, she thought it proper to pay her respects to Crown Princess Christine and headed to the eastern palace where the crown prince resided.
On the way, she ran into Anita. Knowing she was a maid under Lydia’s control, Serret approached her.
Anita might know about Sophia’s case—or perhaps she was even the woman Sophia had met.
Recognizing Serret, Anita flinched, bowed her head, and hurried past her.
“Anita.”
Serret called out. Anita froze and turned toward her, trembling as she clasped her hands.
“Y-Yes, Duchess.”
Anita’s gaze fell to her feet, and her body trembled.
Raising one eyebrow at the odd reaction, Serret asked gently:
“You don’t look well. Are you sick?”
“Huh?”
Anita looked up, meeting Serret’s eyes, her pupils wavering.
“You look unwell. If you’re sick, tell Young Lady Elliott and take a rest. If it’s hard to tell Lydia, I can speak for you.”
Serret’s kind voice continued.
In her past life, Serret had seen Lydia strike Anita’s cheek sharply while at the duchess’s palace. Anita had been used to it, showing neither surprise nor tears.
That scene had lingered in Serret’s mind. Seeing Anita helplessly struck had troubled her for a long time.
“No, I’m fine.”
“Alright. Anita, if you need help, come find me.”
Serret lightly patted Anita’s shoulder and passed by her.
“Y-Yes, Duchess.”
After a few steps, Anita’s voice called out from behind. Serret turned and met her worried, fearful eyes.
“Are you alright?”
“Huh?”
Anita’s eyes seemed on the verge of tears, leaving Serret puzzled. These tears weren’t for her concern—but what did they mean?
Stepping toward Anita, she flinched and bowed.
“I’m sorry.”
She then turned and fled.
Watching her leave, Serret frowned slightly. Anita, what do you know?
Leaving the crown prince’s palace, Serret walked down the corridor connected to the main gate of the royal palace with a pleased expression.
A gentle breeze from the lakeside garden on the right of the corridor swayed her skirt. It was a perfect wind to cool the summer heat.
‘What exactly is the feeling called love?’
The breeze seemed to carry Yuan’s voice, shaking her ears.
It was oddly comforting that he didn’t understand love. It meant he hadn’t intentionally deceived her by marrying her. At least, for now, he thought of her as his wife.
That alone allowed her to feel a little at ease. She didn’t know how he would change once he realized his feelings for Lydia, but for now, she could relax.
Lost in thought, a familiar voice called out:
“Duchess Fraxtuster!”
It was Grand Duke Regan Popwell.
