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CHAPTER 21
“Ah.”
“Please don’t misunderstand. I—I’m not trying to pressure you.”
In truth, Madam Sirileze welcomed Etisha more than anyone else.
Because she had long wished for her son to get married. The rumors that the Duke of Cayenne was seeking a bride—those rumors originated from none other than Madam Sirileze herself.
“I’ve waited for so long, hoping Cayenne would one day fall in love and marry like any normal man. I searched high and low for a suitable bride, but my stone-hearted son would always turn them away without even giving them a glance.”
Lady Sirileze Wintel looked at her son with a complicated expression in her eyes.
“I just wanted Cayenne to have someone he could trust and feel at ease with…”
The music ended, and the dance came to a close.
Lady Sirileze gently released Etisha’s hand and stepped away.
“Baroness Etisha, I do hope you become that person for Cayenne. Someone he can lean on for a lifetime…”
Etisha parted her lips, but she couldn’t answer right away.
Because contrary to Lady Sirileze’s hopes, Etisha wasn’t truly Cayenne’s lover—nor his real bride.
Someone Cayenne could trust and feel at ease with…
Could Etisha really become that person?
“…I hope so too.”
Etisha answered in a voice so soft it was barely audible.
Whether she heard her or not, Lady Sirileze’s eyes curved into a smile. That face, usually so stern, now shone with affection for her future daughter-in-law.
As Etisha completed the first dance, Cayenne approached her.
“I told you, my mother gets shy.”
“Your Grace…”
“She welcomes this marriage more than I do, so there’s no need to worry.”
Cayenne extended his hand toward Etisha with elegance.
The first dance was with family.
The second dance, with one’s beloved.
The music changed again, and Cayenne naturally began to dance with Etisha. As she took his hand, Etisha murmured,
“I was really surprised. I’ve heard about Madam Sirileze’s fearsome reputation for a long time. I didn’t expect her to treat me so kindly…”
“Is that so?”
“The duel with the Marchioness of Praline is practically a legend. And the story with the princess from the Eastern Kingdom too… How much was the compensation again?”
“It wasn’t compensation, but mining trade rights in the Eastern Kingdom. If we convert its value, it’d be about 100,000 gold by today’s standards.”
“Exactly… And such a person gets shy? I still can’t believe it.”
“She’s only like that with family. She’s a good mother to me.”
“Ah…”
Etisha turned lightly and stumbled on her foot.
Lady Sirileze had treated her well because she believed Etisha would become her daughter-in-law.
But what if the truth came out—that the marriage was all a lie?
Would this angelic mother-in-law vanish, replaced by the terrifying tyrant of high society?
‘I must never… absolutely never let it be discovered.’
Etisha straightened her posture and finished her turn. Her skirt fluttered out in a graceful arc.
Applause erupted from the banquet guests watching the couple.
Despite a few hitches, Etisha had danced the first dance with Madam Sirileze, and the second with Duke Cayenne.
A successful debut in northern high society.
By marrying Cayenne and becoming the Wintel family’s daughter-in-law, she had firmly secured her position.
Everyone present congratulated the young, beautiful couple who were to be the next ducal pair. It was a smooth and joyful celebration.
While Etisha danced her second dance, murmurs echoed quietly from a corner of the ballroom.
“That’s the young lady, isn’t she? The commoner Madam Sirileze raised.”
“Oh my, Countess Mongmad. ‘Raised’? She’s not a pet, you know…”
“But look at that radiant blonde hair. If all commoners looked like her, I’d want to raise one myself.”
“Indeed. She feels quite different from the ones littering the streets.”
With fans half-hiding their lips, the noble ladies watched Ditte from across the room.
“…Still, doesn’t it strike you as strange? What was Madam Sirileze thinking, taking in a commoner?”
“Exactly. You know how that always ends. She’ll overreach, thinking she can get close to Duke Cayenne. People are already saying she’s his mistress.”
“Who knows? Maybe she used some trick and did become his mistress.”
“So… a mistress and a foster daughter? Surely not. If that were true, Madam Sirileze would’ve thrown her out already.”
“Well, we don’t know the details, but it is suspicious.”
“Yes, quite the intriguing girl. High society’s going to buzz for a while.”
Their eyes gleamed like hunting dogs scenting prey.
Society always needed fresh meat to gnaw on—and Ditte was perfect.
A commoner who suddenly appeared.
Too beautiful to be an ordinary one, and special too—being Madam Sirileze’s foster daughter.
Add to that the rumor she was Duke Cayenne’s mistress, and it was impossible for society ladies to ignore her.
They’d done enough whispering—it was time to confront the prey directly. Countess Mongmad stepped forward.
“You there, girl. Was it Judite?”
“…”
But Ditte didn’t respond, lost in thought.
Her gaze remained fixed on the center of the ballroom—where Etisha and Cayenne danced like a painting come to life.
“Hey, Judite.”
“…”
“What? Is this commoner ignoring me?!”
Ditte’s golden eyes quivered as she watched them. They shimmered with moisture, as if she were about to cry.
‘Cayenne…’
Ditte felt hollow inside.
Because she was a commoner.
And because she had spent so many years by Cayenne’s side.
She had become Madam Sirileze’s foster daughter around the age of twelve. From then on, she grew up in the Wintel estate, alongside Cayenne.
Though not a true daughter, Madam Sirileze raised Ditte without lacking anything.
Even so, being a commoner, her life had always been different from Cayenne’s, the heir of a duke.
While Cayenne received noble education from numerous tutors, Ditte played with toys alone in her room. It was nice not having to take difficult lessons—but sad to be apart from him.
As years passed and Cayenne began appearing at social events, Ditte remained alone at the ducal estate—her status barring her from such circles.
And during the war…
When the Empire’s war broke out, Cayenne went to the frontlines while Ditte stayed behind at Wintel Manor. Never had she missed him more.
But still… it was okay.
Because Ditte knew—
No one else could ever have Cayenne anyway.
Cayenne Wintel.
A man who let no one near, who would never belong to anyone. A barren, frozen land of a man.
Ditte believed she knew him better than anyone, having grown up by his side. And that comforted her.
Cayenne isn’t interested in any woman. He doesn’t care about romance or marriage. The only woman at his side will always, forever be me.
So what if she was a commoner?
Cayenne would remain alone forever.
No noble lady, no matter how high-born, could ever win his heart.
That’s why Ditte didn’t resent her status. She was thankful for it.
Because being a rootless commoner allowed Madam Sirileze to adopt her, and to grow close to Cayenne like a sibling.
But now Cayenne is getting married.
When she first heard the news, Ditte had laughed. It sounded absurd.
The Founding Festival lasted only three days—how could a bride suddenly appear in that time?
There must be some hidden reason.
Even while traveling to the north with Baroness Etisha in the same carriage, Ditte felt no sense of crisis. Even when the two stayed behind in Luxen together, she thought little of it.
When Madam Sirileze said she’d host an engagement party, Ditte had even felt glad.
The madam said I could attend this time. I finally get to step out before society and announce myself as her foster daughter and Cayenne’s foster sister…
But it was a foolish hope.
From beginning to end, this party wasn’t for Ditte.
Baroness Etisha…
The first dance with Madam Sirileze. The second with Cayenne. None of it was for Ditte.
She was merely part of the background noise—just one of the many in attendance.
No, I’m not even that.
She heard the whispers around her.
Wondering if she was Cayenne’s mistress or just Madam Sirileze’s pet.
I’m just… I’m…
Ditte felt the sadness settle in.
Because she was a commoner.
Because she had been with Cayenne for so long.
“Can’t you hear me? How dare you!”
Countess Mongmad, unable to tolerate being ignored any longer, swung her fan.
Smack!
A loud sound rang out as the fan struck Ditte’s cheek, turning her face to the side.
“Kyaa!”
“How dare a commoner ignore me?! Do you think you’ve truly become a noble lady just because of Madam Sirileze’s backing?!”
Ditte clutched her stinging cheek and looked at Countess Mongmad.
The jewelry, the gems, the lavish dress…
It was obvious at a glance—this woman held power.
Ditte hadn’t even realized the countess was talking to her, and now she’d been struck across the face.
Naturally, Ditte had no idea how to respond with proper noble etiquette.
“C-Cayenne… madam…”
All she could do was turn her head, seeking someone—anyone—to help her.
That only enraged the countess more, who raised her fan again.
“You insolent little—grovel this instant!”
But then, someone stepped between Countess Mongmad and Ditte.
“Now, now. Let’s not get too worked up, Countess Mongmad. It’s a joyous occasion, after all.”
A dreamy, velvety voice—like something from a dream.
“Are you really planning to mar the face of Madam Sirileze’s foster daughter, here in Wintel Manor, at Duke Cayenne’s engagement celebration?”
“…Marquis Hexion?”
