Chapter 40. Trial
Since their last meeting was caught by the Grand Duchess, it had become much harder for Meisel to enter the Grand Duke’s estate. In the end, Marzella had no choice but to take leave and visit the Count of Avoir’s estate herself.
As soon as the parlor door closed, Meisel, who had been acting excited in front of the maids by claiming that her nanny had arrived, abruptly changed her mood.
Of course, this was the Meisel that Marzella was familiar with.
“You should’ve told me they were picking a lady-in-waiting!”
“I only heard about it recently too…”
“This nanny is about to ruin everything!”
Angry again at her own words, Meisel threw her pen down in frustration.
‘Well, who told you to act so rudely?’
Marzella lowered her head, biting her lip.
For a noble lady to speak so recklessly in front of the Grand Duchess—what a careless act.
‘The Grand Duchess isn’t a fool. There’s no way she’ll choose Meisel as her lady-in-waiting.’
Even Marzella regretted her earlier behavior.
She had underestimated the young Grand Duchess far too much.
“Did you do this on purpose to mess with me?”
Marzella quickly shook her head at Meisel’s suspicious tone.
“I really didn’t know.”
“How could the head maid not know that?”
“The Grand Duchess only gives orders through the chief butler…”
“Then you should’ve found a way to get it out of him! What good are you if you can’t even do that?!”
Meisel grumbled, her neck flushed with anger.
The head maid’s role in the Grand Duke’s estate was different from that in other noble households.
Marzella managed the maids, but didn’t take direct orders from the Grand Duke or Duchess.
In other words, aside from managing the maids, she had no real authority in the estate.
And the sly chief butler, who handled all commands from the Grand Duke, never shared any information with her.
‘I only found out about the new lady-in-waiting while the maids were preparing tea.’
“Did you forget who got you that position? You sit in comfort, and now you think you’re someone important?”
Marzella bit back her irritation.
Got her that position?
She had worked hard on her own to climb the ranks.
Meisel liked to boast that she got Marzella into the estate, even though Marzella was simply recommended when the estate was short on help.
Still, because she’d received money and gifts from Meisel in exchange for information, Marzella had no choice but to stay quiet.
“Why won’t the Grand Duke kick that woman out?!”
As Meisel screamed in frustration, Marzella calmly offered a carefully chosen answer.
“Maybe he’s being cautious because of the Marquis’ family.”
“That useless marquis’ daughter? When I become Grand Duchess, they’ll be the first to go.”
Pfft. Marzella snorted inwardly.
‘As if that’s going to happen.’
A childish noble girl who thought the world revolved around her.
No one believed Meisel would become Grand Duchess—except Meisel herself.
Even her own parents had quietly shaken their heads at her ridiculous dream.
‘It’s a relief that it’s an impossible dream.’
Marzella’s current life was perfect.
She’d ruled as head maid for years without interference, though she did have to watch out for the butler.
The sudden appearance of the Grand Duchess was a problem, but she didn’t seem interested in taking Marzella’s role just yet.
‘Everything will go back to normal soon.’
Until then, Marzella planned to keep flattering Meisel and get as much out of her as possible.
Or maybe… a little stirring between the two wouldn’t hurt? She was curious how well the fire would burn.
With that thought, Marzella’s eyes gleamed mischievously.
“There’s no need for you to be so cautious, my lady.”
“What?”
“Since things are like this anyway, wouldn’t it be better to show who really holds the power in Blenheim? No matter who the Grand Duchess picks, if you don’t approve, she won’t survive in society.”
That idea seemed to please Meisel, who leaned back slowly in her chair.
The thought of asserting her dominance in Blenheim’s high society felt much more satisfying than trying to please the Grand Duchess.
“She doesn’t have any real choice anyway.”
“Indeed…”
The Grand Duchess was the outsider here.
If she wanted to survive in the northern social circles, she’d have to watch her step. There’s no way she’d risk choosing a baron’s or viscount’s daughter over a count’s daughter.
Among the noble daughters, Meisel had the highest status and the most fame. Naturally, she would be the top choice.
“She won’t pick Rozel or Karina.”
Meisel muttered, thinking of other noble girls who might be a threat.
Even if many girls were invited for tea, in the end, the Grand Duchess would have no choice but to choose Meisel.
‘Still, just in case… I’d better be prepared.’
Being the Grand Duchess’s lady-in-waiting was a position so desirable, some girls might even go against someone like Meisel just for a chance at it.
She needed to warn the other girls beforehand, so none of them did anything foolish during tea time.
After sending Marzella a brooch to push her to act faster, Meisel started writing letters to the potential candidates the Grand Duchess might choose.
She was going to make it clear to the Grand Duchess that day—
If she didn’t pick Meisel as her lady-in-waiting, she’d never survive in Blenheim’s social circles.
‘As long as I get to meet the Duke…’
Meisel was confident.
She truly believed that if the Duke met her again and remembered their past, he would fall in love with her.
‘Because we share a deep, secret past…’
It was before the Demon War, when the gates of the Duke’s castle were still open.
She clearly remembered the day she first visited the Duke’s castle and saw the young Duke in the beautifully decorated greenhouse.
He had asked who she was in a kind voice.
His noble appearance, elegant from head to toe.
Instead of scolding her for entering his mother’s private greenhouse without permission, he had simply smiled at her.
At that moment, Meisel had made a decision:
She would grow into a proper noble lady, worthy of becoming the Grand Duchess of Blenheim.
She would be the only woman standing by that beautiful man’s side.
But soon after, the castle’s gates were closed tightly.
It was actually a relief when rumors spread that the Duke disliked women—
She didn’t have to worry about other noble girls trying to approach him.
Even the arranged marriage with Princess Felianes didn’t bother her too much.
As long as the princess never set foot in Blenheim, she wouldn’t be the Duke’s true partner.
‘That is, until that damned Fasie daughter proposed to him…’
How dare she force a marriage using her family’s power?
When her father, the Count of Avoir, told her the Duke’s marriage had been decided, Meisel locked herself in her room and cried for a week without eating.
‘Only I am meant to be the Duke’s wife…’
If Marzella hadn’t kept feeding her news from the castle, she might’ve gone insane.
The Duke hadn’t even greeted the girl when she arrived at the castle, nor had he spent the wedding night with her.
Meisel was sure the girl would soon be dismissed and sent back to the capital in disgrace.
She took a deep breath, calming herself.
It was okay.
All of this was just a trial set by the goddess, a test on her path to becoming the true Grand Duchess of Blenheim.
With faith in her destiny, Meisel began writing her response to the Grand Duchess’s invitation.
It was early afternoon, and I was sipping tea in the drawing room when it happened.
Behind the head chef, several cooks rolled in not one, not two, but three trolleys.
“Your Highness, it’s an honor to meet you. I’m Berni, head of the Grand Duke’s kitchen.”
Wait, this guy is the head chef?
The man standing before me looked more like a mercenary than a chef—huge and burly, with a body so big it seemed his uniform might burst.
He looked like he could match the Grand Duke in size.
But what caught my attention even more were the trays of cakes and cookies on the trolleys he brought.
“W-What is all this?”
As the other cooks began endlessly placing desserts on the table, I blurted out the question before I could even manage a proper greeting.
“These are mini lemon cakes, almond nougat cakes, chocolate cake, Madeira cake… sandwiches include cucumber, strawberry cream… the pies are pear slices, cherry tart, apple tart… and bite-sized cookies like vanilla and macarons…”
Berni’s eyes sparkled as he listed the names. I had to wave my hands.
“No, I get that, but this is just… way too much!”
-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-
• ❁ • ❁ • ❁ •By Freya• ❁ • ❁ • ❁ •
If you want to support the translation and the translator, you can buy a coffee~
-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-
