Spoils of War Duchess

Chapter 30

‘Back then, I called the doctor myself, and not a single person came to see me while I was lying down. Even after I recovered, I didn’t hear a single word asking if I was alright.’

Yet now, as a maid, the owner of this house called the doctor for me, watched over me, and told me to rest more. He even told me to cry if I needed to and to eat well.

He said that good days would come if I lived like this, and to hang in there a little longer…

Idel clutched the handkerchief Laslo had given her tightly.

‘Yes, let’s live diligently. Good days will definitely come.’

Thinking that way, today felt like a really good day. It was a day when she was treated with more humanity than when she was a duchess.

So she smiled.

“Idel, are you okay?”

Seeing her smiling alone, Daisy asked with concern. Idel, feeling happier than ever, beamed a broad smile.

“Yes. I’m perfectly fine.”

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After Idel came by with a pale face to thank him and then left, Laslo sat at his desk, lost in thought until late into the night.

‘Isn’t it strange for someone who nearly died to come right after and say thanks? What’s there to be grateful for?’

Although it was Marsha who had made Idel that way, the root cause was his own. He had thrown her, a fragile noblewoman, into the life of a maid.

He couldn’t understand why she would come to express gratitude.

‘Do nobles take etiquette so seriously that they risk their lives over it?’

Even as he thought with a cynical perspective, remembering her clear, sincere eyes and composed demeanor, he felt a strange discomfort.

‘Aylan’s skills are indeed impressive. He even managed to make her smile.’

When the woman, who always seemed cold and sad, burst into laughter, it felt like something within him had burst too. He didn’t know what it was, but it was significant.

In any case, while Aylan made Idel smile, he had managed to ruin her mood with nonsensical talk about “imperial favors.”

He hadn’t meant to be malicious, but somehow he ended up hitting her most painful spot unexpectedly.

Still, Idel had responded with her usual dignity and calmness, lowering herself and considering Laslo’s position.

‘How can she do that?’

He didn’t believe in the nobility’s so-called grace or culture. What was so great about making and following rules that didn’t even amuse them?

But Idel was different. She seemed to embody what true grace was, not as an act but as something ingrained in her being.

So whenever he stood before her, he felt like the smell of the wind on his body became even more tainted.

‘Even if it’s hypocrisy, it’s impressive to that extent. If it’s not hypocrisy… living like that might have been even harder for her.’

Recent investigation results related to the treason of Duke Rankaster’s house supported the latter view.

According to the testimony of a butler from the Duke’s household, Idel Rankaster was nothing more than a mere shell of a duchess. The Duke’s household members, including the Duke’s mistress, treated her as an outsider, and especially the Duke’s youngest daughters, who were of a similar age, openly disregarded her.

“Yet she never showed weakness. She was kind to the servants and faithfully carried out her duties. It even felt like life became easier for me since she became the Duchess.”

The butler’s testimony about Idel was quite favorable, unlike his criticism of the Duke’s children.

It confirmed that Idel had not known about the Duke’s treason or the secret passages within the Duke’s residence.

It was both a relief and a misfortune.

‘That’s why my feelings are even more unsettled.’

The peak of that discomfort was during the moment Idel had cried earlier.

The sight of her tearing up as soon as she mentioned the word ‘ordinary’ had elicited an involuntary sympathy from him.

Her life, from being born as a greedy earl’s daughter to becoming a socialite, the Duke’s old mistress, and now living as a maid, was far from ordinary.

Although he wasn’t sure what level of ‘ordinary’ she desired, it was clear she had dreamed of a modest life.

That’s why he understood why she cried.

The surprise was that he had no handkerchief in his pants pocket or vest pocket.

‘Damn it, who would have thought I’d need a handkerchief?’

Fortunately, there was a handkerchief in the first desk drawer he opened. It looked shabby with its creases, but finding something else would seem even more inappropriate, so he handed it over.

That part was fine, but he didn’t expect the woman to cry even more after receiving the handkerchief.

Her delicate shoulders trembling with sobs were so pitiful.

‘I almost hugged her.’

It was really close.

When he was fifteen, he once found a fawn caught in the rain in the mountains and held it. He never thought he would feel the same way about a grown woman.

He wanted to hold her until she calmed down, just like he had held that trembling fawn until the rain stopped.

‘But if I did that to a woman, I’d be labeled as a scoundrel.’

He knew well that nobles despised his appearance.

His scruffy hair, sparse beard, sun-darkened and wind-dried skin, large build, and the scars all over his body…

He had heard that he used to be considered handsome, but he had been too busy earning money to care about his appearance, which led to this state.

That’s why he was always consciously aware that he shouldn’t approach women or children recklessly.

‘Still, to push her out of the room immediately and spout strange comforting words… Am I out of my mind?’

Even the so-called comforting words he said seemed laughable.

He had given a simple instruction—cry in your room, eat your fill, and get some good sleep—and yet he had declared it a ‘command.’

‘Someone who is ill should eat and sleep well, not eat less and stay up all night. Tch.’

Embarrassing memories resurfaced, causing Laslo to bury his face in his hands.

‘Well, at least it’s fortunate I got my act together before meeting with Marchioness Celestine.’

Speaking of which, it had almost been a disaster.

A few days ago, they had received a formal invitation from the Celestine family to have tea together, and it was clear that Idel’s story would come up at that meeting.

And yet, Idel had fallen ill with a fever at just this time.

‘If it had been discovered even a little later and she had died, we would have surely turned the Celestine family into enemies.’

If that had happened, he might have really taken out his anger on Marsha.

‘Fortunately, she recovered, so the worst has been avoided, but if the Marchioness decided to come and see Idel’s condition for herself…’

He could vividly imagine her glaring at him with a look that seemed to be assessing his actions.

Idel’s response would likely be seen as a result of his coercion.

‘The Celestine family is quite respectable. The previous Marchioness was frail and had been quiet for a long time, but they have a rich heritage and solid foundation. The Marchioness has led them well.’

Thus, he had planned to use this opportunity to build a connection with the Celestine family and draw them into the Emperor’s faction. It had been a close call.

But suddenly, he wondered.

‘How far is Marchioness Celestine willing to go to help Idel?’

While everyone was avoiding any connection with the Duke’s family, Barbara Celestine had mobilized the head of the family to assist Idel.

That was unusual. The invitation had arrived long after Idel had sent her letter, proving that the process had not been easy.

‘Anyway, I need to meet in person to gauge the atmosphere. Perhaps the Marchioness is using Idel as an excuse to test me through the Emperor.’

Laslo organized his desk without making any hasty decisions.

With no butler around, he had to check all the financial transactions and inventories himself, and the desk was cluttered with various documents and receipts.

Looking at them, he felt an involuntary irritation rise.

‘If only I could get Linia married off, I’d close up the mansion.’

With such unproductive thoughts, Laslo put aside his work and lay down on his bed.

Then he suddenly recalled the words he had said to Idel.

“There will be good days in life. It’s hard now, but just hang in there a little longer.”

It was something he could say to himself now, but if someone had said that to him, he would have exploded in anger.

‘How long am I supposed to endure this! Why did I say something like that?’

Why had he given such advice to Idel, who was already enduring with all her might?

Laslo felt another wave of embarrassment and shame, and he punched the blanket with his fist.

It seemed unlikely that he would fall asleep easily tonight.