Chapter translated by Loulou.
The next morning…
A brisk knock woke Etisha from her sleep.
“Milady, it’s Marin. I’ve brought your wash water. May I come in?”
She had no idea when she’d fallen asleep.
Etisha rubbed her eyes and pushed the blanket aside. She didn’t remember pulling it over herself, but figured she must’ve done so in her sleep.
‘The Duke…’
She instinctively glanced at the other side of the bed, half-expecting Kaiyen to laying there, sleeping with his upper body exposed—but it was just a groundless worry.
The spot next her was completely empty, not even a single wrinkle in the blanket.
‘Strange. I could’ve sworn I saw the Duke last night. Was it just a dream…?’
She’d been worried since there was only one bed, but it seemed she hadn’t actually shared it with Kaiyen.
Etisha, relieved at the thought, called for Marin.
“Yes, Marin. I’m awake. Come in.”
With her permission, Marin opened the bedroom door, carrying a basin of wash water.
“Miss!”
“Marin!”
After spending the night at the banquet facing nothing but unfamiliar faces, seeing a familiar one now made her inexplicably happy. She really had made the right choice bringing Marin to the North.
Marin gasped dramatically as she looked at Etisha.
“Good heavens, Milady! Did you fall asleep like this? Without even changing out of your dress… What a waste……………….”
“Yeah… I must’ve dozed off without realizing.”
“I see. I assumed another maid had helped you last night since you didn’t ask for me. Please, call for me next time, Milady.”
After setting the washbasin down on the table, Marin showed Etisha where the call bells were located.
Etisha had wondered about the odd tassel hanging in the corner of the ceiling—it turned out it wasn’t a decoration at all. It was used to summon the servants.
“If you pull on these, the maids will be alerted right away. The one with the ruby is for the head maid, the sapphire is for the head steward, and mine… is the one at the very end, with the pearl.”
“Alright. I’ll call for you next time, Marin.”
“Hehe, yes, Milady!”
Marin gently removed Etisha’s hairpins and jewelry, then helped her out of her dress. She fretted over a small tear in the hem, saying it needed repairs, but Etisha wasn’t too concerned.
‘Last night… was that really just a dream?’
Kaiyen’s face, half-shadowed in the dark, flashed through her mind.
Those eyes—sharp as if lit by embers.
The more she tried to dismiss it as a dream, the more real and clear it felt.
‘I’ve never seen him make that expression before.’
If she had to describe it—it was like the face of a predator baring its fangs.
A look filled with both restraint and bloodlust, ready to pounce on a long-awaited prey.
It felt utterly different from the cold, indifferent expressions Etisha had always seen on Kaiyen.
Just then, Marin—who had been gently combing Etisha’s hair—delivered another piece of news.
“Oh! The madam is preparing for tea time. It seems she’d like to sit down and chat with you, milady.”
Tea time?
Now that she thought about it, Madame Cyrille mentioned yesterday that she’d be busy with wedding preparations for the next few days. She’d even briefly brought up the wedding dress that’s been passed down through the family.
“I see… She probably wants to discuss the wedding preparations with me.”
“Milady, please be careful.”
Marin, who had been brushing Etisha’s hair, suddenly stopped and began trembling.
She looked like a frightened squirrel.
And with her soft brown hair, petite frame, and small hands, she really did resemble one.
“Careful? What do you mean?”
“Well… I happened to overhear some of the maids talking yesterday, and they say the Madam is really scary. The same goes for Duke Kaiyen. Apparently everyone in the Wintel family is terrifying.”
“…What nonsense!”
Etisha couldn’t help but laugh.
“That’s not true. The Duke and his mother are both kind people.”
She spoke with heartfelt sincerity but Marin didn’t believe a word of it.
As she helped Etisha get ready, Marin looked genuinely worried—clearly imagining her lady being bullied by a wicked mother-in-law.
And though Etisha made several attempts to reassure her, nothing seemed to be getting through.
***
In the end, tea time with Madame Cyrille didn’t go as planned.
Just as they sat down at the tea table and Etisha raised her cup for a first sip, an unexpected letter arrived.
“Madam, a formal invitation has arrived from Marquis Hexion’s residence,” The head maid said, handing a small envelope over.
“An invitation? From the Marquis? To me?”
With elegant, precise movements, Madame Cyrille broke the seal on the envelope; the rose emblem, edged with thorns—the symbol of House Hexion—breaking away cleanly.
As she unfolded the letter, Etisha– seated beside her – inadvertently caught sight of its contents. Though she hadn’t meant to read it, the message was so short and direct that her eyes absorbed it instantly.
‘A tea party at the Marquis’ estate?’
Then, Madame Cyrille handed the letter directly to Etisha.
“This invitation isn’t meant for me. Here, read it.”
With puzzled eyes, Etisha set down her teacup and took the letter.
The letter contained just one line announcing a tea party at the Marquis’ estate, followed by the names of the invited guests:
Madame Cyrille Wintel, Baroness Etisha El, and…
Judith?
Judith’s name was clearly written there.
“I heard there was some commotion at yesterday’s banquet. Marquis Hexion apparently intervened in the dispute between Judith and Countess Montmard.”
Madame Cyrille set down her teacup with an icy smile. Gone was the shy demeanor she’d shown when speaking with Etisha—now, she exuded the authority of someone at the very pinnacle of high society.
“I was planning of sending a suitable gift as a thank you, but it seems they’ve beaten me to the move.”
Etisha immediately understood what she meant. For a moment, it was as if she could hear her sister Larienne’s voice in her head, overlapping with Madame Cyrille’s.
[Tisha! You fool! If someone does you a favor in high society, you must repay them accordingly. Of course, I never bother with such things myself.]
Now that they’d clearly received help from Marquis Hexion, refusing the invitation was impossible—yet accepting it felt equally troubling.
“You’re worried about Judith, aren’t you, Mother? The Duke,had actually warned me in advance about the Marquis. He said Marquis Hexion is someone to be cautious around…”
“How fortunate that Kaiyen already mentioned it to you,” Madame Cyrille said, her expression hardening. “Marquis Hexion is notorious for his scandalous entanglements with women. Who knows how he might toy with a common girl like Judith if she becomes entangled with him?”
“Oh…”
“Hahhh! Had I known this would happen, I wouldn’t have brought Judith to last night’s banquet. I only wanted her to share in the celebration, having raised her like my own daughter. But instead, I may have caused her harm.”
Etisha looked quietly at Madame Cyrille. Then, Judith’s face came to mind.
Golden hair as bright as sunlight. A clear, untroubled smile. She was as beautiful and radiant as light itself. Though she was born a commoner, she carried the warmth of someone who had grown up dearly loved in the former Duchess’s care.
Even now, she was genuinely worried about her; from the depths of her heart. It was clear she truly cherished Judith like a daughter.
Even though they shared no blood
Even though their status differed.
She still treated Judith like her own child…
‘…I envy that.’
Etisha’s gaze slowly lowered. Thoughts of her stepmother threatened to rise up, but she managed to push them down.
“There’s no helping it. We’ll just make a brief appearance at the tea party and leave immediately.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“So then… Baroness—no, I mean…Daughter. What do you intend to do?”
Etisha’s eyes curved into a smile. Lady Syrilezé was just too adorable sometimes.
If only Marin could see her like this…
“Me?” Etisha replied.
“Yes. Will you accept the Marquis’ invitation?”
“Well… I’ve only just arrived in the North, and I’m not accustomed to such parties.”
Beside, she had never met the Marquis. And on top of that, Kaiyen had explicitly warned her about him.
Under these circumstances, there seemed to be no reason for her to visit the Marquis’ estate for polite tea.
As she slowly shook her head, Madame Cyrille looked at her with warm, approving eyes. The sharp intensity she’d shown when reading the marquis’s letter completely vanished when her gaze settled on Etisha.
“You truly are a wise young lady.”
“You flatter me, Mother.”
“Oh? And modest too? My son must have an eye for people, after all.”
“Ahah… Thank you.”
A soft blush crept up Etisha’s cheeks. For some reason, being praised like that made her feel like a little girl basking in her mother’s approval—an unfamiliar warmth blooming quietly in her chest.
***
After all that, Etisha and Madame Cyrille continued discussing the wedding.
They settled for the ceremony to take place in a month, in the Wintel estate’s chapel, with a high priest brought in to officiate.
As for the wedding dress, guest list, and other details—they agreed to revisit those later.
“My dear, let’s set aside these tiring matters for now. Today, I thought you might like to take a tour of Wintel Castle. You’ll be living here from now on, after all—I hope you’ll grow fond of it.”
Grateful for the kind gesture, Etisha rose from her seat.
Truthfully, she had been hoping for a chance to explore the castle.
‘Where should I start?’
The place was massive—there was no shortage of places to see. The main building alone had five floors, and beyond its walls were expansive grounds that included a barracks for the knights, kitchens and quarters for the staff, storage buildings, and so much more, all enclosed by the outer wall.
Etisha decided to start with the main building, climbing the stairs with two maids who had been assigned to guide her.
After passing through the banquet hall, drawing room, and receiving room on the first floor, they reached the second floor, where she glimpsed the grand study—and beyond it, Cayenne’s office.
“At this time of day, His Grace is usually inside,” one of the maids said softly.
“I see,” Etisha replied.
Since she had no particular reason to disturb him during his work hours, Etisha was about to turn and head elsewhere.
But just then, someone called out to her.
“Lady Etisha! It’s such a pleasure to see you.”
The voice belonged to Valdebram; the Duke’s aide.
The man had short gray hair, pale skin, and a tall, lean frame; the very picture of a Northerner.
He greeted Etisha with a formal bow, and she responded in kind.
“Hello, Mr. Valdebram.”
“You may simply call me Valdebram. No need for formality.”
Etisha had seen his face a few times before, but this was their first proper conversation. She gave him a small nod and switched to a more casual tone.
“All right, Valdebram. Is His Grace in right now?”
“Yes. I’ll let His Grace know you’ve arrived right away.”
“No, that’s not necessary,” Etisha said with a small wave of her hand. “I was just passing through.”
When she declined, something shifted in Valdebram’s expression. He gave her a curious glance and asked;
“Didn’t the Lady come here because the Duke summoned you?”
“…???”
“This morning, His Grace prepared a gift for you. I assumed you had come over because you’d heard about it.”
Now it was Etisha’s turn to look puzzled.
‘A gift?’
The Duke had prepared a gift for her—this morning? What kind of gift could it be?
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