After the chaotic and disruptive breakfast, I hurriedly escaped the dining hall as if fleeing.
‘What kind of change of heart did he have yesterday?’
I thought that turning Ian into a proper person would only make me proud, but now that his attitude had suddenly shifted, I felt more bewildered than anything else.
Ian Cloud reading a newsletter?
I couldn’t even begin to imagine what he’d think of the articles being posted in real-time.
‘No, maybe it’s a good thing?’
Perhaps he’d realize something more concretely by seeing the blatant reactions from society.
After pondering for a while, I decided to head to the office instead of my bedroom.
Nothing clears a complicated mind like work.
“Alright, let’s stop worrying about useless things and get today’s work started.”
Although not as much as Ian, as the Duchess, I also had quite a bit of work to do as the mistress of the household.
I was in charge of the budget for all the affairs within the Grand Duke’s estate, as well as the various events that took place throughout the year.
‘Whoever said nobles just sit around doing nothing?’
When I first came to the Duchess’s office, I was quietly appalled.
I couldn’t believe that Eloise had been managing this enormous estate all on her own.
Moreover, even though it had only been two years since she became the Duchess, her office was perfectly organized with all the documents and financial records related to the estate.
‘She’s an incredible woman, no doubt about it.’
By this point, I completely understood why Ian Cloud had married Eloise and maintained their married life even without a trace of affection.
“Alright, let’s get to work.”
I lightly patted my cheeks with both hands and sat down.
On the desk were various documents, including the budget plan for this month.
‘Honestly, when I first came face to face with this daunting workload, I wanted to run away…’
But it took me less than ten minutes to change my mind.
The reason was simple: as long as Diana’s future was held hostage by this Grand Duchy, if I ran away, Diana would be the one to suffer.
How could I scatter dung on the path that should be covered in flowers for my beloved?
My goal was to manage the estate’s finances meticulously until Diana arrived. I stretched out and skimmed through the documents.
“This is the budget for the garden… and this one is for the kitchen? Hmm, this is confusing.”
As I tilted my head in confusion over the complex documents, I opened the second drawer and took out a thick book.
“Well, the information should be in here too.”
This was the second reason I hadn’t run away.
On the first day I came to this office, I found Eloise’s notebook. Judging by the contents, Eloise seemed to have managed her duties by creating a manual for herself.
The notebook was filled with detailed information about the estate’s financial operations.
It was so detailed that even someone like me, who had no idea how the estate functioned, could roughly understand it.
‘Honestly, this is almost like a handover document…’
When I first saw it, I wondered if she had been planning to pass on her duties to someone else.
Of course, Eloise wouldn’t have known the future like I do, so there’s no way she would’ve prepared a handover document on purpose.
“Well, it’s a big help to me, at least.”
As I sent a silent thank you to the air and opened the book, there was a knock on the door.
“My Lady, it’s Vivi.”
“Come in.”
At my permission, Vivi cautiously opened the door and entered.
“I was cleaning the bedroom and found this on the floor. I was going to just place it on the shelf, but I thought it might be better to bring it to you now.”
In her hand was the paper and quill that came with the newsletter.
“Ah, that’s where it was.”
It must have fallen when I left it without writing any opinions earlier.
“Give it here.”
“Yes, my Lady.”
Vivi handed me the paper and quill and then left the office, saying she would continue with the cleaning. I rolled the paper and quill in my hand, lost in thought.
‘Hmm, there doesn’t seem to be a need to add any comments to this week’s newsletter. But it would be a waste not to write anything at all.’
Pondering with my lips pursed, I raised an eyebrow.
‘…Maybe I should take this opportunity to check out the other articles I didn’t read earlier?’
In truth, the comment section was the least of my concerns. The thought of Ian reading the newsletter made me too curious to bear.
I stealthily brought the newsletter, which I had pushed to the side of the desk, and placed it on top of the documents.
“Work can wait as long as it gets done by the end of the day…”
The newsletter was filled with so much content that I almost forgot it was published weekly.
There were various stories, like someone at a count’s regular salon getting so drunk that they poured wine on a painting, or how a certain young lady from one house was caught having a midnight tryst with a young man from another, or a count who always fails at business trying his hand at it once again…
After skimming through the outrageous stories from the social scene, my gaze naturally fell on the opinion section, as always.
Perhaps because some time had passed, it was now packed with comments, far more than in the morning.
As expected, the most bustling section was about the mining war that made the front page.
‘The families fighting over the mine were the Marquess of Merry and the Count of Olsen, right?’
Given the topic, the comment section was filled with details that hadn’t even been mentioned in the main article.
– But is it true that the mine is situated right on the border between the Merry Marquessate and the Olsen County?
– I heard from my brother who works in land management. Apparently, the larger portion of the land belongs to the Olsen County, but the only place where an entrance can be made is on the Merry Marquessate’s land.
– Huh. Then shouldn’t the Marquess of Merry own it? I mean, whoever controls the entrance wins, right?
– Everyone knows that. The problem is that the Olson family refuses to back down.
I was reminded once again why most of the capital’s nobles bought this newsletter.
‘As expected, the comments are more interesting than the main article.’
There’s nothing that makes time fly by quite like eavesdropping on other people’s gossip. But the Aria newsletter lets you do that legally.
‘It would make a perfect conversation starter over drinks.’
Amused, I propped my chin on my hand and continued reading.
Just as I had seen earlier, most of the comments were critical of the Olsen family and the Countess of Olsen.
– What’s wrong with the Countess of Olsen?
– She’s been acting strange ever since the count died two years ago. She’s become irritable…
– It’s a pity, but still, there are rules to follow.
– Ugh, I hope I don’t age like that.
– Excuse me, what’s age got to do with this?
– Why, feeling guilty?
‘Why are they fighting…?’
Anonymous comments leading to arguments, whether here or in 21st-century Korea, seem to be the same everywhere.
I ignored the bickering and continued reading other comments.
– Anyway, the Countess of Olsen doesn’t even attend social gatherings anymore. She’s holed up in that gloomy mansion, doing who knows what.
– Exactly. I don’t even let my carriage get near the Olsen estate.
As I scanned through the gossip, a sense of familiarity began to nag at me again.
‘The Olsen family… No matter how often I hear about them, something feels familiar…’
It kept bothering me, like an itch I couldn’t quite scratch.
It seemed like it wasn’t a particularly important character, but still, it didn’t make sense for me to remember a passing extra like this.
As I was racking my brain over the unsettling feeling, the comment section updated again.
– What could she possibly want with a mine that can’t even be developed?
– Maybe she just wants to make life difficult for others, now that she has no husband and no heir.
– It’s not like she can take it with her when she dies, so what’s the point of being so stubborn?
– Anyway, it’s the Marquess of Merry who’s suffering. They haven’t been able to mine any minerals or even clear the surrounding trees for a year now!
– But isn’t the Countess of Olsen reading this too? Is it okay to say these things?
– What does it matter? It’s not like we’re making anything up.
‘…Wait.’
A thought suddenly struck me like a flash of lightning, and I almost dropped the newsletter.
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