The narrow corridor led to a secret reception room. This small room was known as ‘Lady Amour’s Consultation Room.’
In the reception room, veils were layered and arranged to completely conceal the identities of the visitors, making it impossible for anyone to know who was who. Of course,
“Did you miss me, Camu? Or was it just my presence you were eager for?”
Such a statement would reveal one’s identity, if not carefully managed.
Seeing a man who revealed himself so readily without being asked, Anaïs, wearing the guise of Amour, hesitated. The visitor who came so early was not one of Roxane’s followers.
Anaïs lowered her tone and refined her mannerisms to fit the role of a love consultant, ‘Lady Amour.’
“Count Descent, I heard the news of your marriage. Congratulations.”
“How modest. The news is already out?”
Camu took a wedding invitation from his inner pocket and placed it on the table.
“I wanted to personally convey this to Lady Amour.”
“How thoughtful of you.”
“After all, we’ve shared a lot together.”
“I’m afraid someone might overhear and misunderstand.”
“Who would have thought I’d settle down with just one woman?”
“I’m surprised it turned out this way myself.”
“Ha ha ha! It’s not just empty words. As you know, my image as a philanderer was quite strong.”
It’s not just empty words…
Knowing oneself well is definitely one of Camu’s strengths. He had started visiting the Anderson-Brienne salon around last fall.
He had been captivated by a woman he met during a park stroll. Ironically, he was with another woman at that moment.
Anyway, among the women who had their coming-of-age ceremonies each year, there was an unwritten rule to “never accept a drink from Camu Descent,” so he had to work hard to break through the suspicion of charming, unfamiliar women. Ultimately, he came here with his hands up.
He hadn’t expected it would lead to marriage.
Even though Anaïs was being paid for her consultations, she was beginning to feel a bit conflicted about whether it was right to help someone like Camu Descent with matters of love.
“It’s probably too much to ask you to come to the wedding, right?”
“I’ll bless you from afar.”
“I expected that. It seems like this will be the last time we meet. Are you sure you don’t want to give me a hint about your real identity?”
“…….”
In the ensuing silence, Camu waved his hand dismissively.
“Ha ha, never mind. Just a thought. I’ll be going now.”
“Oh, wait!”
Suddenly stopping and scratching his head in embarrassment, Camu added,
“Well, you might have a… special guest coming to see you.”
“A special guest?”
“Hmm… yes, a special guest.”
A special, difficult, and somewhat intimidating guest. Murmuring to himself, Camu hurriedly left the consultation room as if escaping.
‘A special guest?’
Had Camu introduced this place to someone? If that were the case, it might actually be beneficial. Even though Camu was considered a hopeless wastrel, as the scion of the renowned Descent family, spreading the word could significantly boost the profits of the Anderson-Brienne salon. But…
‘What is this unease?’
***
Back in her study, Anaïs had no time to dwell on the unease she felt from Camu.
It was due to the mail she had brought from the mansion. The content, though written in a neat hand, was far from kind, and her hands trembled uncontrollably.
The letter urged her to find a suitable heir quickly, as the succession to the earldom was on hold since the passing of the Brienne Count and his wife…
The warning that if a suitable heir was not found, the title and the associated estate would revert to the kingdom, and…
Turning the page, Anaïs felt like she wanted to faint.
“Succession hold deadline: 1 year”
Anaïs screamed and let the paper slip from her grasp.
“Is this all that’s left?”
The striking red letters seemed to pierce her chest like a death sentence.
Anaïs bit her lip. In Barbiér, titles were primarily inherited by sons. However, the only child the Brienne Count and his wife left behind was Anaïs.
Couldn’t a daughter inherit the title as second in line? Yes, but there were very stringent conditions. The only way for her, as a woman, to continue the title was…
“No, I should say there’s no way.”
Marriage. Yes, marriage.
The only way for Anaïs to preserve the Brienne title was marriage! Marriage!
“Marriage is no joke. How on earth…?”
In the whirlwind of managing the estate, she had forgotten. How foolish of her.
‘Let’s think, Anaïs.’
Did she absolutely need to inherit the title?
“……”
Anaïs raised her right hand and slapped her own cheek.
What am I saying? Of course, I need to!
This wasn’t something to be pondered over. All the assets tied to the title would be lost. That meant the estate, the Anderson-Brienne salon, and even the small real estate holdings secured by the title…
For the sake of her parents, abandoning the family name was out of the question.
If she didn’t secure the title, she would lose everything.
With the relentless pressure of debt and marriage, the beginning of her day was cruel, and despair began to creep in.
“What on earth have I done?”
Anaïs steadied her trembling legs and sat down on the couch.
“I’ve spent countless days meddling in others’ love lives. What have I actually done?”
As she furiously glared at the invitation she had received from Camille moments ago, her thoughts were interrupted.
Knock, knock, bang!
“Miss.”
The butler burst in without waiting for a response.
“What’s the matter? If it’s not urgent…”
The thought that she might have to cut the butler’s salary starting next month only added to her gloom. But before she could finish her sentence, the old gentleman cut her off.
“It’s urgent!”
“…?”
“The salon doors are all locked. You need to come downstairs quickly.”
“What’s going on? I have urgent matters of my own.”
‘I might have to cut the butler’s salary…’
“The Queen Mother has arrived!”
“Unpaid… Wait, who did you say?”
At that moment, Anaïs heard Camille’s voice echoing in her ears.
“A special guest might come to see you.”
* * *
The three-story building was shrouded in darkness, with not a single ray of light coming through. Despite it being just past noon with the sun high in the sky, the firmly locked doors and tightly drawn blackout curtains left the place pitch-black.
Gasping for breath, Anaïs followed the butler to the front of the main hall and took a deep breath. As the door opened, the silhouette of someone cloaked in black robes came into view.
Though the robe was nothing special—cheap and unremarkable—the rigid posture of its wearer exuded an air of inviolable authority.
Given that only this one attendant accompanied the distinguished guest, it was clear that the esteemed visitor had a specific, confidential reason for coming here today.
“Lady Anaïs of the Brienne family is here to see Her Majesty the Queen Mother.”
As the young salon owner made the announcement, the guest of honor seated in the prominent chair removed her robe. Her thick, jet-black hair, streaked with frost, was revealed.
My goodness.
It was indeed the Queen Mother, Élisabeth, whom Anaïs had seen from afar at social events or occasionally in newspaper portraits.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Brienne.”
Anaïs offered a brief and respectful reply to the greeting.
Why would someone so rarely seen in person come here today?
Anaïs struggled to make sense of the Queen Mother’s visit.
As she stood there, looking bewildered, the Queen Mother narrowed her eyes with a hint of a smile.
“There’s no need to be nervous. Please, come and sit.”
This was a rare opportunity to face the most senior figure in the kingdom after the current king. Such occasions were few and far between for Anaïs, so it was understandable that she was flustered.
Each time the Queen Mother’s gaze swept over the bright ivory carpet, the rich mahogany furnishings, and the cherry-red piano, Anaïs felt her mouth dry up.
“It must be challenging to manage the salon without the Count, but I hear Anderson-Brienne’s reputation is excellent. It seems you’ve inherited the Count’s talents.”
Anaïs, overly nervous, responded with an embarrassingly shaky voice.
“Th-thank you for your kind words!”
“I won’t beat around the bush.”
Glancing toward the door, the Queen Mother lowered her voice.
“I would like you to take on a matchmaking role.”
