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Chapter : 13
“I think Mother is right, Grandmother.”
Neuta, the current duke’s sister, who was having tea with them, spoke up in support of the dowager duchess.
“Has Agatha ever once bowed her head to you, Mother, or me? Even when she dared come into this mansion, she always kept her eyes wide open and said, ‘Mother, that’s something I cannot do.’ That was the kind of girl she was.”
Agatha Nobilis was, to them, a very special daughter-in-law—in the worst sense of the word.
She never granted their requests easily, never behaved the way they demanded, and at times even acted as if they were bullying her, stirring conflict between them and Theodore.
“Agatha would never cover up any rumors about our family, no matter what’s said. She even left all those false rumors alone when she divorced, didn’t she? Who knows—this time, she might even launch a public opinion campaign herself for the sake of her happy marriage.”
When Agatha Nobilis went through her sixth divorce, how many rumors had spread?
Of all of them, the lie that she had divorced because of their unreasonable demands and abuse had spread the widest, and because of that they had been forced to stay secluded all spring, unable to attend any social gatherings.
The dowager duchess thumped her chest in frustration.
“Mother. Are you just going to sit back and watch until we’re beaten like this? We should strike back too.”
“…….”
“Mother! Knowing how Theodore has been lately, how can you hesitate?”
At that, Lady Neuta let out a sigh.
“……How could such a worthless wretch come out of that noble House of Nobilis?”
These days, her once lovely grandson was growing paler by the day.
The child who had always been upright was sometimes found drunk.
And on such days, he would regret divorcing Agatha Nobilis and glare resentfully at her, his mother, and his sister.
—
If only, just once, you had looked at her kindly…
—
Snapping out of her brief recollection, Lady Neuta clicked her tongue and made a decision.
“Very well. It wouldn’t be so bad to give that former daughter-in-law one last lesson.”
The eyes of the dowager duchess and young lady Neuta gleamed with life.
Still, this was about dealing with that Agatha Nobilis. Though she spoke boldly, the old lady did not let down her guard.
By her reckoning, confronting her directly would be reckless, but in high society, with enough preparation, they could certainly disgrace her.
Their influence and status were, after all, more or less evenly matched.
“The autumn hunt would be a good opportunity.”
“I’ll make the preparations.”
“Yes, Grandmother!”
It was the signal for the trio of Neuta to return to society.
Today was the day of a luncheon with the Emperor.
Agatha rose early and, from among the dresses she had selected late into the night, chose the one that best suited her mood today.
“That one will do.”
A skirt hem made of layers of soft, pale pink fabric.
The bodice lavishly embroidered with silver thread, and frilled sleeves reaching midway down her forearms—it was the most luxurious of all the dresses she had picked out.
“Won’t it be too flashy?” a maid asked.
“No. Considering what I have to do today, this much is just right.”
They called it a luncheon, but in truth she was going to wage a battle of nerves with the Emperor. Better to leave a strong impression with splendor than to appear modest.
“Then I’ll do your makeup more boldly today.”
“Please.”
A full-length mirror stood on three sides as her attendants bustled about, laying out jewelry and cosmetics.
She put on a set of earrings and a necklace densely set with diamonds no bigger than her little fingernail.
Her hair was gathered to one side, with several translucent, lily-shaped hairpins inserted halfway down.
Bright eye makeup with a hint of pearl.
Her full lips, faintly tinged with red against her pale skin, stood out.
Her slender neck and shoulders were fully revealed, and though she was adorned with dazzling extravagance, Agatha carried even that excess to perfection.
“You’re truly beautiful, my lady.”
“Good. Now let’s choose the shoes.”
Just as Agatha, satisfied, was making her final choice, there was a knock. A maid entered and reported,
“My lady, the Marquess of Aratus has arrived.”
“Has he?”
After a moment’s thought, Agatha chose a pair of shoes with a gradual gradient dye.
White fabric on top, deepening into a violet hue toward the heel, with tiny diamonds scattered across them like stardust.
“Let’s go.”
“Yes, my lady.”
After checking her attire one last time and taking the proposal she was to present to the Emperor, Agatha went straight down to the first floor.
The palace’s head attendant had a carriage prepared.
In front of the entrance stood a man showing a familiar back, talking with his aide, John.
With a slightly trembling heart, Agatha called the name that had been tacitly permitted since their last meeting.
“Enoch.”
“Are you ready, Agatha?”
He turned calmly, paused for a moment, then walked toward her. Taking her hand and lightly kissing it came as naturally as breathing.
“Did you sleep well last night?”
“I did. And I’m perfectly ready for battle.”
“This is your battle attire, then?”
“I’m facing His Majesty. I can’t let myself be intimidated.”
Murmuring the last words softly, Agatha placed her hand on his arm.
After another brief pause, Enoch moved naturally and escorted her to the carriage.
“Huh? Aren’t you coming with me?”
Seeing Enoch turn away, Agatha hurriedly reached out to him. He looked down at her pale hand for a moment before slowly parting his lips.
“Shall we go together?”
“Yes.”
Enoch handed over his beloved horse, which had been waiting ahead, to his aide John. After ten years of growing more accustomed to riding, riding in a carriage was a rare occasion for him.
“We’re departing.”
“Yes.”
Enoch sat across from Agatha, and with the imperial knight’s call of “Depart!” the carriage began moving toward the imperial palace.
Agatha discreetly observed Enoch. Since he had opened the window and was looking outside, his blue hair, brushed back at the front, fluttered gently in the light breeze.
“Did you get home safely that day?”
The man who had been staring out the window finally turned his gaze toward her. His face revealed nothing of what he was thinking.
“You seem quiet today.”
“I suppose I failed to be considerate of you, my lady.”
As he closed the window, his steady gaze fell on her, and Agatha unconsciously recalled the garden from two days ago.
Back then too, with that same indifferent look, he had approached her and kissed her as if it were nothing.
It hadn’t even been her lips—just his lips brushing her cheek—yet Agatha had fluttered like a young lady experiencing her first touch.
After a brief silence, Enoch spoke.
“We should soon set a date for the wedding. Do you have any particular day in mind, Agatha?”
“Well, I think His Majesty will decide the date.”
It would probably be set for the earliest day preparations could be completed.
Agatha planned to focus her attention on other matters.
For instance, the venue, the dress, the jewelry.
She preferred a quiet wedding outside the capital rather than in it.
Though up to now, because of various political views and opposition from the families involved, that had rarely been possible.
“There’s a small but very beautiful temple on the outskirts of the capital. I’d like to hold the ceremony there—would that be all right?”
“Wouldn’t a venue that reflects my wife’s taste be far more beautiful than one chosen by me? Do as you wish, Agatha.”
Truly, with such an indifferent face—
Yet every word he spoke was sweet, squeezing Agatha’s heart for no good reason.
“Do you have a place in mind for the honeymoon?”
“Ah, anywhere by the sea would be nice. An island would be good, or a coastal city too…”
“An island.”
Enoch seemed to be pondering something when the carriage slowly came to a stop. Then there was a knock from outside.
“Marquess of Aratus. Lady Nobilis. We have arrived at our destination.”
“Let’s get down.”
Stepping out first, Enoch escorted Agatha. The palace’s head attendant, who had been waiting at the entrance after hearing the news, greeted them.
“Lady Nobilis. Marquess of Aratus. Welcome.”
“Where is His Majesty?”
“He instructed that you be escorted to the dining hall first when you arrive. This way, please.”
A high arched ceiling, beneath it thousands of crystals adorning the space.
Sunlight filtering between marble pillars made the corridor glow gold, while the famous paintings and patterns carved into the opposite wall boasted the majestic history of the Empire.
The grandeur and pressure that flowed from the corridor gradually changed into utmost splendor and restrained luxury the deeper they went into the palace.
From here on, it could be said to be the private quarters where the Emperor and imperial family lived.
“This is it.”
The place the attendant led them to was the Emperor’s private dining room, which Agatha had visited several times before.
Though smaller than the official banquet hall, it was decorated only with far more lavish and precious items.
The fact that she entered this place together with her future husband was a scene that showed Agatha Nobilis’s standing both at court and in high society.
Agatha sat across from Enoch at a round table. The seat of honor was empty.
“If you wait just a moment, His Majesty will soon arrive.”
“Thank you for your trouble,” Agatha said to the head attendant.
A moment later, the door opened, and guards and attendants poured in.
“The sun of the Roxvard Empire, His Majesty Warmilai the Second, enters!”
It was the long-awaited appearance of the Emperor.
