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CHAPTER 25
Morning.
A brisk knock woke Etisha from her sleep.
“Miss, it’s Marin. I brought your washing water. May I come in?”
She wasn’t sure when she’d fallen asleep.
Rubbing her eyes, Etisha pushed off the blanket. She didn’t remember pulling it over herself, but figured she must have done it half-asleep.
‘The Duke…’
Instinctively, Etisha glanced to the side of the bed. She half-expected to see Cayenne lying there shirtless, but it was only her imagination.
The space beside her was completely empty, the blanket even smooth and unwrinkled.
‘But… I thought I saw him last night. Was it just a dream?’
She had been worried about there being only one bed, but clearly she hadn’t spent the night with Cayenne. Relieved, Etisha called out to Marin.
“Yes, Marin. I’m awake. Come in.”
With Etisha’s permission, her maid Marin entered the room carrying a basin of water.
“Miss!”
“Marin.”
After seeing nothing but unfamiliar faces at the banquet yesterday, it was unexpectedly comforting to see someone she knew. She really had done well to bring Marin to the north.
Marin gasped as she took in Etisha’s appearance.
“Oh my! Miss, did you fall asleep like this? You didn’t even take off your dress—such a beautiful gown…”
“Yes… I must have dozed off without realizing.”
“I see. I thought another maid had helped you last night. From now on, please make sure to call for me.”
Marin set the basin on the table and showed Etisha where the call bells were.
Etisha had wondered why there was a strange tassel hanging from the ceiling—turns out it wasn’t for decoration, but a signaling device.
“This bell here sends a signal directly to the maids. The one with the ruby is for the head maid, the sapphire is for the steward, and mine… is the pearl one at the very end!”
“Alright. I’ll call for you next time, Marin.”
“Hehe, yes, Miss.”
Marin removed Etisha’s hairpins and accessories, then helped her out of the dress. She fussed over a slight tear in the hem, but Etisha wasn’t too bothered.
‘But was that really… a dream?’
Cayenne’s face bathed in darkness.
The intense, flame-like gleam in his eyes.
The more she tried to convince herself it was just a dream, the more vivid it felt.
‘I’ve never seen that expression before.’
It was like the face of a predator baring its fangs—an expression of patience intertwined with bloodlust, poised to strike after a long-awaited hunt.
It was nothing like the cold, detached Cayenne she was used to.
Just then, as Marin gently brushed Etisha’s hair, she shared some news.
“By the way, the madam is preparing for tea. It seems she’d like to chat with you over a cup.”
Tea time?
Now that she thought about it, Madame Cyrilleze had mentioned being busy with wedding preparations yesterday. She’d even briefly brought up the family’s heirloom wedding dress.
“Right… she must want to talk about the wedding.”
“Please be careful, Miss.”
Marin’s hand trembled as she brushed Etisha’s hair. She looked like a frightened squirrel—her fluffy brown hair, petite hands, and small frame only added to the resemblance.
“Careful?”
“Well… I overheard the maids talking yesterday. They said the madam is very scary. And the Duke too—the entire Wintell family is supposed to be terrifying.”
“…What?”
Etisha couldn’t help but smile.
“No, the Duke and his mother are both very kind.”
She meant it sincerely, but Marin didn’t believe her.
Worried her mistress might be mistreated by a cruel mother-in-law, Marin continued helping Etisha dress with utmost concern. Etisha tried now and then to explain the truth, but it didn’t seem to have much effect.
In the end, the tea time with Madame Cyrilleze didn’t go as planned.
Just as they sat at the tea table and took their first sips, an unexpected letter arrived.
“Madam, a letter has come from the Marquess of Hexion.”
The head maid handed over a small envelope.
“A letter? From the Marquess?”
With graceful precision, Madame Cyrilleze opened it. The seal, marked with the thorned rose of House Hexion, snapped cleanly.
Etisha, sitting beside her, happened to catch a glimpse of the contents. She hadn’t intended to read it, but the writing was so concise, it was impossible to miss.
‘A tea party at the Marquess’s estate?’
Madame Cyrilleze handed the letter directly to Etisha.
“It’s not addressed to me. Go ahead and read it.”
Setting down her teacup, Etisha picked up the letter.
It briefly mentioned a tea party at the Marquess’s estate and listed the invitees:
‘Madame Cyrilleze Wintell, Baroness Etisha El, and…’
Yudith.
Dite’s name was clearly written.
“I heard there was a minor incident at yesterday’s banquet,” Madame Cyrilleze said coolly. “Something happened between Dite and Lady Montmadre, and the Marquess stepped in to resolve it.”
The shy demeanor she had earlier was gone. Now she exuded the presence of a woman at the very top of the social ladder.
“I was going to send a token gift to show appreciation, but it seems they’ve made the first move.”
Etisha understood exactly what she meant. She could almost hear her sister Larienne’s voice:
<Tisha, you fool! If someone does you a favor in society, you have to return it properly. Of course, I never do, but still.>
They had clearly received help from the Marquess, so refusing the invitation wasn’t an option. But accepting it outright also posed concerns.
“You’re worried about Dite, aren’t you, Mother? The Duke already warned me. He said to be careful around the Marquess.”
“Ah, so Cayenne already mentioned it. That’s a relief. The Marquess is infamous for his scandals with women. If a commoner girl like Dite gets involved with him, who knows what might happen.”
“Oh…”
“Hah, if I’d known this would happen, I wouldn’t have brought Dite to the banquet. I only wanted her to be part of the celebration—I raised her like a daughter—but it seems I only brought her trouble.”
Etisha looked at Madame Cyrilleze in silence, then thought of Dite’s face.
Sunshine-blonde hair and a bright, untroubled smile. Beautiful and lovable like sunlight. Despite her commoner status, she had clearly been cherished in this household.
And even now, Madame Cyrilleze was genuinely worried. From the heart. She truly seemed to love Dite like a daughter.
Even if there was no blood between them,
Even if their social standings were different,
She loved her as a true daughter…
‘…I’m jealous.’
Etisha slowly lowered her gaze. Thoughts of her stepmother briefly threatened to rise, but she pushed them down.
“There’s no helping it. I’ll make a brief appearance at the tea party and leave right away.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“So… what about the Baroness—no, my new daughter-in-law. What will you do?”
Etisha smiled. Madame Cyrilleze was endearing, even today.
Marin would’ve loved to see this side of her…
“Me?”
“Yes. Will you accept the Marquess’s invitation?”
“Well, I haven’t been in the north long, and I’m not used to parties.”
Plus, Etisha had no personal relationship with the Marquess. And Cayenne had specifically warned her to be cautious.
Under those circumstances, she saw no reason to visit his estate for tea.
As Etisha shook her head, Madame Cyrilleze looked at her warmly. The intimidating aura she’d displayed upon receiving the letter was completely gone.
“You truly are a wise young woman.”
“You flatter me, Mother.”
“Oh? And humble, too? My son must have a good eye for people.”
“Ah… thank you.”
Etisha’s cheeks flushed. For some reason, the praise felt like being complimented by a real mother—and it left a strange tickle in her heart.
Later, Etisha and Madame Cyrilleze discussed the upcoming wedding.
The ceremony would take place a month later in the chapel of Wintell Castle, officiated by a high priest.
Details like the wedding dress and guest list would be discussed later.
“My dear, enough of these headache-inducing topics. Let’s tour the castle today. Since you’ll be living here, I hope you’ll come to love it.”
Grateful for her kindness, Etisha excused herself. She’d been meaning to explore the castle anyway.
‘Where should I start?’
The castle was vast—almost overwhelming. The main building alone was five stories, with surrounding grounds including the garrison, servant quarters, kitchen, storage, and more.
Etisha decided to begin with the main building and headed up the stairs with two maids guiding her.
After passing the banquet hall, parlor, and audience room on the first floor, they reached the second, where Cayenne’s office was located beyond the massive library.
“This time of day, His Grace is likely inside.”
“I see.”
One of the maids carefully offered the information.
Etisha didn’t want to disturb Cayenne while he worked, especially without a reason, so she turned to leave.
But then, someone called out to her.
“Lady Etisha, a pleasure to see you.”
Short gray hair, pale skin, tall stature—a classic northern appearance. It was Valdefram, Cayenne’s aide.
He greeted Etisha with a respectful bow, and she returned it.
“Hello, Mr. Valdefram.”
“Just Valdefram is fine. Please, speak comfortably.”
Though she’d seen him a few times, this was the first time they’d spoken directly. Etisha nodded and relaxed her tone.
“Alright, Valdefram. Is the Duke inside?”
“Yes. I was just about to inform him of your arrival.”
“Oh, there’s no need for that. I was only passing by.”
When she declined, Valdefram’s gaze shifted slightly. He asked with a puzzled expression:
“Did His Grace not summon you?”
“…?”
“This morning, the Duke prepared a gift for you. I assumed you’d heard and come to receive it.”
Now it was Etisha’s turn to look surprised.
‘A gift?’
The Duke had prepared a gift for her—this morning?
What kind of gift could it be?
