TLDWAE 27

Chapter 27

“If anyone saw you, they’d think you’d been dragged into the wedding hall with a noose around your neck. Don’t tell me you were that cold to Karia as well?”

As the saying goes, you can tell ten things from one. If the Duke had shown respect toward Karia, then his daughter would never have treated her with such insolence.

And though it had been glossed over because he seemed unwilling to talk about it, she had indeed been hit. When I first heard that, to be honest, I wanted to tear the entire mansion apart regardless of in-laws or not, but since Karia remained calm and detached, I held myself back with effort.

“They said the Duchess struck her, didn’t they? Ha, they always brag about being a venerable, historic family, but what a complete disgrace.”

“Alcard.”

Grinding his teeth in anger, Alcard came down the front steps and caught sight of his elder brother, who looked like he was about to head out. He quickly bowed his head.

Unlike Alcard, who wore a rumpled knight’s uniform with his cravat missing and collar buttons undone, Grenberik’s clothes were neat, pressed, and flawless, as always.

“Where are you going?”

“Father entrusted me with something. You?”

“Me? Well… just wandering here and there.”

“I heard you’ve been asking around about Karia lately.”

Alcard had hoped to brush off the question, but Grenberik cut him off before he even had the chance. Staring at his elder brother’s blank, unreadable face, Alcard clicked his tongue softly.

The reason he hadn’t wanted Grenberik to know about this was simple—his relationship with Karia was far from good, even if they pretended otherwise.

From childhood, Grenberik had been the model heir, receiving the best education and always carrying himself with dignity. But strangely enough, whenever Karia was involved, that composure disappeared.

He always tormented her with sharp words and cold behavior.

‘Why do you do that, honestly? She’s just a little girl—what could she possibly have done to offend you so much that you feel the need to make her cry every time?’

‘The very fact that she came into our family is the problem! Because of her, we almost lost Mother again! And you—why do you keep shielding her? Choose clearly who comes first: her, or Mother!’

His attachment to the Duchess, his mother, bordered on obsession. Since Karia’s arrival coincided with the Duchess’s frequent fainting spells, his nerves were always on edge, terrified of losing her. His hostility toward Karia was a direct reaction to that fear.

“The butler must’ve told you, huh? That sly old fox. Anyway, she just seems… so different now, I wanted to find out why. Don’t worry about it.”

“…Did she say she was unwell?”

“What?”

Alcard had expected him to scold him for wasting time on nonsense. But instead—was that concern he just heard? From Grenberik, of all people, about Karia?

Grenberik rarely ever mentioned her first, let alone in a tone that suggested worry. What was going on? Did he know something?

Alcard hurried down the stairs and stopped right in front of him.

“She’s sick? Where? From what I saw, she looked healthier than before—full of energy even.”

“…No. If not, then that’s fine.”

Seeing Alcard’s genuinely confused expression, Grenberik cut himself off and shook his head. He straightened his cuffs and collar unnecessarily before turning his back.

“If it’s a money problem, don’t trouble Father with it—come to me directly. That’s all.”

“Brother!”

Even when called, Grenberik didn’t stop, striding right out the front doors.

Alcard scratched the back of his head in frustration. There was definitely something going on…

“…Maybe I should check out that orphanage she volunteers at.”

The orphanage where she went every two or three weeks was now the only place he hadn’t yet looked into.

* * *

But just when Alcard thought of visiting the orphanage, fate led him elsewhere.

While passing through the shopping district, he caught sight of neatly arranged golden hair tied up at the back of someone’s head.

And there she was—Karia—standing in front of an elegant, grand carriage. Without hesitation, Alcard pulled on his reins.

“Ah.”

“Well, look who it is. Meeting here of all places.”

He jumped off his horse with a cheerful smile, but Karia’s expression was as sour as if she had bitten into a bug.

She didn’t even need to say it; her face made it perfectly clear that running into him was not a happy coincidence.

Alcard didn’t know whether to be glad she was no longer hiding her feelings like before, or sad that her discomfort with him was so obvious.

Regardless, with his usual shamelessness, he put on a friendly grin and approached.

“You could’ve just kept going, you know.”

“Why say something so hurtful? Anyway, what’s with the children’s clothes?”

They were in front of a children’s clothing shop. The clerks were loading multiple packages into the carriage—it wasn’t just one or two items she had bought.

“Oh, are those for the orphanage?”

He asked lightly, then realized instantly it was a mistake. After all these years apart, how would it look if he knew details about her life like that? She might think he’d been spying on her. Which, well… wasn’t entirely false.

But instead of anger, her face froze in sudden realization.

“The orphanage…”

She had completely forgotten. Her expression grew grave.

The orphanage director knew about her illness. If word spread, the royal family—who did not want it known that her bloodline carried a hereditary disease—would surely make her life miserable.

And the Duke of Pandeon could easily use it as an excuse to refuse divorce, since the difference between widowhood and divorce weighed heavily in noble society. Not to mention, upon her death, her fortune would revert to the Pandeon family.

She would have to visit soon and ensure the director kept his mouth shut.

“So, whose clothes are those? Don’t tell me… don’t tell me they’re for that spoiled young lady, are they?”

“That’s none of your business, my lord.”

Clearly, she hadn’t gone to the orphanage yet. While she was lost in thought, Alcard leaned casually against the carriage as if settling in for a long conversation. For someone he’d just “happened” to run into, he sure was persistent.

“Aren’t you leaving? Don’t you have things to do?”

“Nope, I’m free. Since we’ve met by chance, why not have a cup of tea together?”

“I’ve already had tea.”

She rejected him firmly. But Alcard wasn’t the type to back down so easily.

“Really? Ugh, my back hurts so much today. I don’t think I can ride any further. What should I do?”

Instead, he put on an obviously fake act. His loyal horse would’ve been insulted if it could understand, but Alcard had no qualms about being shameless.

“Oh, by the way, did you come here in a carriage?”

“…Ha.”

Leaning against it already, and still pretending? Unbelievable.

Realizing she couldn’t get rid of him with words, Karia simply turned away. Sometimes ignoring was the wisest option.

And since she hadn’t explicitly refused him, Alcard naturally followed her inside.

When he peeked into the carriage’s interior, he was genuinely surprised.

“What the—this carriage? The duke’s carriage is this big? It’s almost as large as the one Mother uses.”

“If you’re not getting in, I’ll leave without you.”

She looked ready to close the door in his face, so Alcard quickly handed his horse over to the driver to be harnessed. The proud black stallion, used to galloping across plains with its master, suddenly found itself reduced to pulling a carriage.

Once inside, Alcard chatted away endlessly, like someone reunited with an old friend. Karia mostly ignored him, but his shameless persistence knew no bounds.

“What, why are we stopping already? It’s still a long way to the Pandeon mansion. This is the townhouse district, isn’t it?”

“Get out. I’ll give you tea here.”

Townhouses were small to mid-sized residences used by provincial nobles during the social season.

Families like the Pandeon dukes or the grand ducal household, who lived in the capital year-round, had no need for such places. Their main residences in the capital were vast and fully staffed. Since land in the capital was limited, not all nobles could maintain such estates, and townhouses were the compromise.

It wasn’t acceptable for nobles to stay just anywhere, after all. Hence, entire districts of townhouses had sprung up.

“Wait, whose house is this? Doesn’t look like a café.”

Ignoring him, Karia crossed a well-tended garden and entered a three-story mansion with an ornate terrace.

The servants cleaning inside paused immediately when they saw her, smiling warmly and bowing respectfully.

“Welcome home, Mistress!”

“Yes. Betsy, prepare tea in the drawing room for our guest.”

A maid with braided hair hurried over to place soft indoor shoes at her feet. Karia changed into them without so much as glancing at Alcard.

“Whose house? It’s mine.”

As Alcard stared in bewilderment, a butler in formal attire approached, asking to take his coat. With practiced ease, he folded Alcard’s wrinkled jacket over his arm, then informed Karia that the ordered sofa and bookcase had arrived, and the new curtains and carpets were in place.

Everything flowed so naturally that Alcard was momentarily struck speechless. But then he shook his head furiously and demanded an explanation.

“The Pandeon mansion is right over there—why would you need a townhouse? And hold on, why are they calling you ‘Mistress’ instead of ‘Lady’? Don’t tell me… this place isn’t the duke’s property but yours?”

“Yes.”

Her crisp answer only made his expression more complicated.

The house was large for a townhouse, and the staff seemed numerous.

There was no way this was some cheap place. How on earth was she the owner?