TPTM 13

Chapter 13

Nothing to do at all.

Thanks to Adèle’s excellent handling, I didn’t really have anything pressing to take care of.

There were five maids assigned to me, including Rilda. They were somewhat insolent, but for now, they at least pretended to follow Adèle’s instructions.

If I intervened directly, it would only cause problems for everyone.

“Your hair is really beautiful, Miss,” Adèle said as she combed my hair in front of the dressing table.

“Beautiful?”

“Yes. It’s like a rose-colored cloud.”

My goodness.

A cloud, not a bomb.

I felt a little embarrassed.

Is Adèle an angel?

Just a few days ago, I didn’t even have a single maid to help with my grooming, and I’d been running around with a disaster of a hairdo.

Adèle must have heard the rumors about my hair. Perhaps she even saw it herself at some point. And yet, she chose such a gentle way to describe it.

“It’s because Adèle combed it so well. Thanks to her, even the household staff don’t look at me like I’m crazy anymore.”

Adèle smiled softly and even let out a small laugh.

“Miss, I’d like to manage your hair a bit more carefully. How do you feel about that?”

“Hm… yeah. It’s a little dry, isn’t it?”

I remembered something from The Mill Bread—the guide on noble etiquette.

A noble’s dignity comes from three things:

1. Culture

2. Attitude

3. Appearance

Appearance is listed last, but ironically, it’s the first thing people notice. Jewelry, dresses, and shawls are secondary; they’re less important. What really matters is how meticulously a noble’s hair is groomed, how smooth and pale their hands are, and how bright and graceful their gaze shines. Those qualities set the standard of nobility.

Of course, Tulia had already failed at the hair part.

“We’ll need to trim the ends a little. Your rose-colored hair is rare and lovely, and if we add some shine, it will look even better.”

“Mm-hm.”

As soon as I answered, the hair trimmed beneath my shoulder blades fell to the floor. A fragrant oil, sweet yet soft, was carefully applied to every strand.

Watching my hair being braided and tied neatly, I couldn’t help but recall Hanina’s hair.

When Mom used to braid the hair of my much younger sibling, I felt inexplicably jealous.

It wasn’t fair that such gentleness, such harmony, seemed reserved for someone else—someone loved. Each time I saw or felt it, it reminded me of how thinly I had endured countless small wounds. My sibling was simply born between Mom and my stepfather.

After Adèle finished styling my hair, I absentmindedly touched it.

It was no longer Hanina’s hair, but Tulia’s pink hair, tangled like a thread of silk in my palm.

“Lately, how has Tulia Frezier been doing?”

Once all the maids had left, I found myself in the Duke’s study.

In a theater with many spectators, the silence after the play feels especially stark.

Yet this vast office didn’t feel empty at all.

One person alone could dominate this enormous space. That was the singular presence of the only Duke of the empire: Duke Asis Frezier.

His chief advisor, Leck Kelpoucher, answered promptly.

“Miss Tulia is doing well. Countess Aubrey sent a new maid to assist her. She has a head maid and five other maids. I also took care of the other daily necessities.”

“Leck Kelpoucher, since when do you bother with such trivial matters?”

“You see, Your Grace, Miss Tulia is the only grandchild who brings you homemade jam daily, so I thought I should reciprocate.”

Across the continent, Leck Kelpoucher might be the only person bold enough to joke this way with Duke Asis Frezier. Outside this office, he was always perfectly respectful, just like everyone else.

Even so, Duke Asis noticed, however briefly, a flicker of mischief in the expression of his long-time chief advisor. He sensed something he didn’t know, but chose not to ask. If it were truly important, Kelpoucher would have reported it.

“By the way, Your Grace, we’ve received a reply that Marquess Aster Frezier will not attend your birthday banquet.”

“They sent a reply saying they won’t come, I suppose,” said Duke Asis.

Leck Kelpoucher lowered his head slightly, feeling a little embarrassed.

It was well-known among the empire’s nobles that the Duke’s eldest daughter, Princess Hyacinthia, had passed, and the eldest son, Marquess Aster, had drifted far apart from the Duke, like spring sun versus snowy peaks.

Kelpoucher smiled and added, “However, the other young lords and grandchild will attend, including the twins. Soon, they will arrive at the estate. It will be lively again, Your Grace.”

“Tulia Frezier doesn’t get along with my twin brothers either, does she?”

“Yes.”

“The twins dislike her as well.”

It wasn’t mere rebellion that Tulia disliked coming home. She had never gotten along with her twin brothers and had stubbornly insisted on leaving the family home since she was a child.

The stubbornness of wanting to stay in the family storage quarters was odd, but I assumed the youngest son and his wife were taking good care of her. Clearly, they weren’t.

…Clever devils.

If Lilius and Aubrey were ordinary servants, they would have been executed, but they were the Duke’s blood relatives, and his late wife had left instructions. So Duke Asis settled for a mild reprimand, aware of his youngest son’s insecurities.

Leck Kelpoucher continued, “But this time, everything should be fine. I chose a new room for her, as far as possible from the marquess’ former quarters.”

His arrangements were thoughtful. Duke Asis had nothing to say.

After a few peaceful days, the incident came one morning.

“Miss Tulia, if you’re visiting the Duke, how about wearing this dress?”

I looked at the dress Rilda recommended and made a strange expression.

She was definitely Aubrey’s subordinate. Just two days ago, Aubrey had subtly suggested promoting Rilda to “senior maid.” Since she was still partially overseeing the Duke family’s household affairs, it was awkward for me to refuse such a request.

“Then I’ll follow Aunt’s suggestion.”

“See? Our Tulia understands the way of things,” Aubrey said, smiling and fanning herself.

I listened to her words but ignored them. Still, I couldn’t help thinking that game-Tulia was hopelessly stupid.

Rilda already acted like a head maid despite being just a “senior maid,” and Aubrey openly looked down on Tulia like a fool.

Yet in The Mill Bread, there was no conflict between the Freziers and Tulia. Typical villains, I suppose—evil yet dumb, digging their own graves and meeting tragic ends.

Yeah, but seriously…

I stared at Rilda, who was already acting like a head maid, and then looked back at the dress.

“This dress… was sent by Aunt?”

I am not that hopelessly stupid Tulia.