(TL: back to present)
As Declan was walking down the corridor reading documents, he turned his head at the sound of a child’s laughter coming from outside.
Not far away, he could see the Empress and Leopold.
The child, who had just started walking, took a few laborious steps before plopping down. Just when it seemed like he might burst into tears, the Empress hurriedly picked him up and soothed him, and he smiled brightly with tears still in his eyes.
Declan unknowingly stopped in his tracks. Over Leo’s smiling face, he suddenly saw an overlap with Soliet’s face at that age.
Come to think of it, Soli rarely cried even back then. Even when she fell while taking her first steps, she would look around with a puzzled face before smiling again.
A faint smile appeared on Declan’s lips as he recalled these fragments of memory, but it disappeared without a trace the moment he became conscious of it.
He stared at the two for a while before looking away.
Just as he was about to take another step forward…
“Your Grace.”
At the Count’s voice coming from nearby, Declan’s gaze, which was about to return to his documents, turned straight ahead.
“The Princess has arrived safely in Monferrato. Shall we prepare to leave immediately?”
The Count seemed subtly excited, probably at the thought of returning home soon.
But Declan didn’t answer right away. He was still concerned about someone who might remain in the Imperial Palace, making him hesitant to leave just yet.
Duke Lowell was the most likely suspect, yet there was no clear causal relationship that came to mind, making it ambiguous. Even while conducting the search with him as a lower priority, his presence remained constantly bothersome.
Given the Duke’s personality, what reason would he have had to hide the former Emperor’s will while taking such a big risk? The reason of pressuring the young Emperor seemed somewhat plausible, but that alone wasn’t convincing enough.
Though he didn’t know the reason, he felt like they were circling around the most important essence.
****
Duke Lowell had taken to his bed after his friction with the Grand Duke, unable to contain his anger.
His originally difficult temperament had become unpredictably sharp, as he was thoroughly upset. The nursing naturally became Dahlia’s responsibility.
Though nursing was little different from being a target for the Duke’s venting…
“This is all because of you.”
Dahlia counted pills while ignoring these words that she had heard for half her life and were now practically etched in her ears.
It was supposedly made from herbs effective in calming the mind and body. It didn’t seem to be very effective yet. Ignoring the Duke’s grumbling to himself, Dahlia placed the appropriate amount on a plate and held it out to him.
“It’s time for your medicine, Uncle.”
“I don’t need it!”
He roughly knocked away Dahlia’s outstretched hand. As the dish fell to the ground with a sharp clang, the maids standing by the door flinched.
Dahlia swallowed a sigh as she looked down at the pills rolling in all directions. The Duke, his face still not fully cleared of anger, began frantically gesturing into the air.
“Useless girl. Even the Princess who didn’t receive a penny of inheritance managed to catch a man, but what’s wrong with you!”
“……”
“If it weren’t for someone like you, I wouldn’t have had to come to the Imperial Palace and suffer such humiliation. You fool!”
Instead of responding, Dahlia bit her lip and lowered her eyes.
How is this my fault? It’s all because of your greed.
Though anger welled up inside, she swallowed it and picked up the scattered medicine one by one. The Duke clicked his tongue in disapproval.
“No matter how much money you throw at it, you can’t change your lowly origins.”
He muttered with a contemptuous face.
“I’ve selected some suitors for you.”
Dahlia, who had been picking up the medicine, suddenly raised her head.
“Meet them before we leave the Imperial Palace.”
“But Uncle…”
“Marquises and Viscounts. They’re too good for a half-blood like you. Yes, indeed.”
Having concluded this on his own, the Duke turned his face away and waved his hand dismissively, as if he didn’t want to deal with her anymore.
“I’ve said all I need to say, now leave.”
His attitude clearly showed irritation, as if he neither needed nor wanted to hear her response. The blatant dismissal was deeply humiliating, and Dahlia’s shoulders trembled.
But she knew that speaking up further would do her no good.
In the end, Dahlia had no choice but to leave the Duke’s bedroom with heavy steps instead of protesting.
She returned to her bedroom and sat by the window to calm her mind. A deep sigh escaped unconsciously.
‘A half-blood, he says.’
Dahlia bitterly mulled over those words.
As the Duke said, the position of a Marchioness would certainly be too good for her. She would gain undeserved wealth and honor. Yet why wasn’t she happy about it at all?
The Duke habitually nagged, “You enjoy such luxury thanks to me, so shouldn’t you repay me for raising you?” but perhaps, as he said, she seemed unsuited for this ecosystem.
It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried. She could pride herself on having done her best to meet the Duke’s expectations for half her life.
‘But I never wanted any of this.’
Her knuckles protruded over her hands neatly placed on her knees.
Being a proud noblewoman, or having a wealthy husband.
The Duke drove her as if those two things were the only purpose for Dahlia’s birth.
Once, she naively believed the Duke’s words. Well, it was an undeniable fact that her origins were lowly. She realized quite early in her childhood that her circumstances were significantly inferior compared to her other relatives.
Her mother, whom she barely remembered now, had treated her own daughter, Dahlia, with excessive formality in her lifetime, as if serving a master.
Moreover, she tended to be overly deferential to the Duke and Dahlia’s half-siblings as well. They, in turn, took such treatment for granted.
It was a natural progression for Dahlia, who grew up seeing such behavior, to realize her position.
Her mother was originally a maid in the Imperial Palace. Not a lady’s maid who kept nobility company and helped them dress, but a common maid who handled all sorts of menial tasks while doing odd jobs.
The mother of Joseph and Marianne was said to be a daughter of a long-established Count family, and Sienna’s mother was even an Empress.
Although she met a tragic end, in terms of birth, she was the daughter of one of the most prominent noble families in the Kralto continent, so the difference was too extreme to be grouped together just because they shared a father.
They were siblings, technically, but they were never the same as Dahlia.
Moreover, that gap wouldn’t be bridged even if she married a man of high status. Even if she wore the mask of a Marchioness, the fact that half of Dahlia’s blood came from a maid wouldn’t change.
So even while obediently following the Duke’s words, she felt doubtful.
Was this really the best path for herself?
Just as she had lived her whole life watching the Duke’s moods, wasn’t it obvious that after marriage she would live watching her husband’s moods?
She was sick of being used as a sacrifice to maintain the Duke’s dignity, and tired of hearing the social circles gossip about her.
But there wasn’t any other way either.
Although her father had left her the southern castle and various inheritances, Dahlia, the heir, had never even seen them.
At that time, Dahlia was too young, and the Duke took all rights to everything she inherited under the pretext of being her guardian.
Nothing changed even after Dahlia came of age. She had tried to bring it up subtly a few times, but each time he would throw a fit, treating her like a thief, so she couldn’t even properly mention it.
Dahlia pressed her solar plexus repeatedly at the unresolved frustration.
Just then, there was a knock from outside. A maid peeked her head through the open door.
“Miss. There’s a visitor…”
The maid carefully observed Dahlia’s reaction as she asked.
“Shall I tell them to come back another time?”
“No, show them to the reception room.”
After rumors spread that the Duke had collapsed clutching his neck, noble visitors frequently came to pay their respects. They all showed clear signs of coming reluctantly, afraid of the consequences if they didn’t.
While she understood their feelings…
Dahlia sighed as she got up from her seat. Thinking that this visitor would return without results since the Duke was fortunately asleep from the medicine by now, she was just entering the reception room when…
The moment she stepped inside after opening the door, her eyes met with those of the man standing by the window of the reception room. At that moment, Dahlia unknowingly froze in place.
In contrast, the other party nodded slightly without showing any particular reaction.
“Lady Lowell.”
“Y-Your Grace the Grand Duke…”
Dahlia could barely move her lips while frozen in place.
The incident between the Grand Duke and the Duke was already widely known. There was talk that during the discussion of the Princess’s marriage, the conversation had turned to the accident at the Grand Duke’s household.
Regardless of the truth of the rumors, it was clear that the Grand Duke and the Duke were currently on quite uncomfortable terms.
Dahlia unconsciously glanced once in the direction of the Duke’s room and asked in a voice that seemed to shrink.
“What brings Your Grace here……”
