Only families closely tied to the duchy were aware of these details, and even they couldn’t pry further.
If one were to ask Calrex or Felix directly, all they would get was a sour expression in response. No one dared to ask the Duchess about the matter.
But now, out of nowhere, the Duchess had written a letter personally asking her to look after her youngest daughter.
“What could this mean, Emily?”
“I couldn’t say, my lady. But you mentioned that the tone of the letter sounded as if she cared deeply for her youngest daughter, didn’t you?”
“That’s right. There were no rumors about this young lady, and no one from the family would speak about her, so I assumed she was an illegitimate child being shunned by the household. But could the truth be the opposite?”
Emily, her maid, recalled an old rumor.
“Perhaps it’s like that story about the former Duke keeping her hidden because he cherished her so much?”
“If that’s not the case, then this situation really doesn’t make sense.”
Still, there were rumors that directly contradicted that notion, so Emily shook her head.
“But if she was such a beloved daughter, wouldn’t it make less sense for her debutante ball to be delayed by a year?”
“Maybe they delayed it ‘because’ they cherished her too much?”
Short speculations were exchanged between the two, but nothing conclusive could be determined. Eventually, Florianne let out a deep sigh and leaned back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling.
“What’s the point of guessing? The best way to find out is to meet her in person.”
As Florianne slumped on the sofa, her maid, Emily, gently adjusted her hair, tidying the strands that had become disheveled. Just as Emily finished, a knock came at the door, followed by a servant’s voice.
“The young lady from the Ember family is arriving shortly.”
“As the host, I can’t let her arrive without greeting her. I’ll be out shortly.”
Florianne rose from her seat and left her room. Since the weather was chilly, she decided against using the garden table and planned to host Beatrice in the drawing room for conversation, possibly extending the invitation to dinner.
As she strolled through the hallway, she spotted her brother, Gallet, walking from the opposite direction. Florianne’s expression immediately twisted into a frown, mirrored by her brother.
“The young lady from the Ember family is visiting today, so don’t even think about showing yourself. Stay out of sight,” she snapped.
“Quite the sharp tongue you have, dear sister, to greet your brother with such hostility.”
“Do you expect me to speak kindly to you? Anyway, just stay out of sight. The young lady coming today seems to be favored by the Duchess, so don’t cause any trouble.”
“Isn’t she the illegitimate daughter?”
“If the Duchess herself went so far as to ask me to look after her, she’s clearly not being mistreated. Don’t get in the way. And if you’re so curious, find out for yourself. Don’t ask me. Didn’t I tell you? Don’t talk to me unless absolutely necessary.”
Florianne despised her brother and father more than anyone. While she refrained from crossing the line too far—aware that her livelihood depended on the family—she couldn’t help but scowl whenever she saw their faces.
Both men always criticized her as overly emotional and unbefitting of nobility.
The irony was laughable. Who was the real disgrace here? Grinding her teeth silently, Florianne strode past Gallet with a sharp swish. She could feel his gaze on her back but didn’t look back once.
“I wish he’d just drop dead,” she muttered.
“My lady, someone might hear you,” Emily cautioned.
“At least you don’t tell me to stop.”
“We just need to whisper so only we can hear,” Emily replied with a sly grin. Her lighthearted response managed to ease Florianne’s stiff expression slightly.
“Perhaps today’s luck isn’t on my side. Running into that wretch on my way to meet a guest from the Ember family… what are the odds?”
Her mood soured further at the thought of possibly encountering her father as well. That would make it the worst day imaginable. She had been avoiding him so diligently that seeing him even once a week was rare. Crossing paths today would be truly unfortunate.
As Florianne walked toward the front gate, chatting with Emily, she noticed a figure stepping out of the carriage, assisted by a knight. She quickened her pace, realizing she had been slightly delayed after her earlier quarrel with her brother.
“Ah, truly a useless excuse for a sibling,” she muttered under her breath, frustrated.
As she approached, their eyes met.
“Hello,” said the young woman stepping out of the carriage.
Florianne blinked, momentarily taken aback. As the host, she should have been the one to greet her first. Quickly, she gathered her composure, adjusted her dress, and returned the greeting.
“Welcome. I am Florianne Buildrander of the Buildrander family.”
“Thank you for inviting me. I am Beatrice Ember of the Ember family,” Beatrice replied politely.
Florianne took in Beatrice’s appearance. The Ember family was renowned for their beauty, so she had expected her guest to be attractive. However, the woman before her exceeded those expectations.
Beatrice’s long black hair cascaded like silk down to her hips, gleaming under the winter light. Her deep golden eyes, warm in color, were paradoxically cold and unfeeling as they observed Florianne.
Although Beatrice wore a faint smile, her gaze held no warmth. It reminded Florianne of Calrex, who always seemed to keep an emotional barrier between himself and others.
“Shall we head inside? Let’s move to the drawing room.”
Florianne took a step forward, and Beatrice naturally followed. For a moment, only the sound of their footsteps echoed through the corridor.
Florianne resisted the urge to steal sidelong glances at Beatrice. Among nobles, such behavior was considered improper and undignified. She maintained her composure until they reached the drawing room.
Once there, Florianne gestured for Beatrice to enter first. As the door closed, she leaned toward Emily and whispered, “What do you think?”
“Her posture is upright and elegant, my lady. She didn’t glance around at all while walking. It seems she’s been well-educated.”
“I see. Good to know. Bring some tea, please.”
With their quick exchange complete, Emily went to prepare tea while Florianne followed Beatrice into the drawing room. After offering Beatrice a seat and taking one herself, Florianne observed her guest more closely.
Beatrice’s golden eyes lowered briefly, then met hers again. Though she seemed uninterested in people, she showed no hesitation in making eye contact—a strange and contradictory behavior.
“When the Duchess suddenly sent me a letter, I was quite surprised. She’s never made such a request before.”
“Oh, I hope I haven’t caused you any trouble.”
“Not at all. For the Duchess to ask me for something is an honor. I’m glad to have the chance to meet you.”
Beatrice’s tone was polite, but something about it felt dry. It wasn’t entirely devoid of inflection, but it was overly neutral, almost flat.
Florianne blinked slowly, maintaining her smile. Beatrice, however, didn’t immediately respond and instead lowered her gaze once again.
Perhaps she’s uncomfortable dealing with people, Florianne thought, considering how rarely she seems to leave the house. She waited patiently for a response. When it came, a small, awkward smile appeared on Beatrice’s pale face. The sudden change from her previously expressionless demeanor caught Florianne off guard, and she stared for a moment, forgetting herself.
“I’m happy to hear that,” Beatrice said.
“The truth is, the Duchess and I have only recently started getting along.”
“Oh, is that so?”
Florianne replied, startled by the subtle but striking shift in Beatrice’s tone and expression.
The once dull and shadowed golden eyes now seemed to glimmer like sunlight, as if reflecting her newfound resolve.
“Even on my way here, I was quite nervous about meeting someone unfamiliar. But since the Duchess has started to take an interest in me, I can’t simply sit back and do nothing. I want to live up to her expectations.”
The way Beatrice glanced up and then down again gave the impression of someone shy but earnest. Florianne’s initial impression of a stiff and distant young lady now seemed to crumble.
The change in Beatrice’s demeanor was almost too naive for a noblewoman preparing to enter high society. Oh dear, how will she survive in the social world with a personality like this? Florianne found herself worrying and raised her hand slightly as if to reassure her.
“If the Duchess knew how much thought you’re putting into this, I’m sure she’d be delighted.”
“Do you think so?”
“Absolutely!”
Watching Beatrice’s tentative smile linger, Florianne couldn’t help but feel as though she was speaking to a girl much younger than herself, rather than a peer. She resolved to take good care of her, unaware that Beatrice was deliberately mimicking her smile.
The conversation didn’t flow as smoothly as Florianne would have liked, mostly because Beatrice seemed to know so little about the world beyond her home—or so Florianne believed.
In reality, Beatrice, with her extensive lifetimes of experience, knew plenty about the current scandals and gossip circulating in society. She simply didn’t feel the need to initiate such topics and instead followed Florianne’s lead, nodding along to keep the conversation alive.
“By the way, have you had your debutante dresses made yet?” Florianne asked.
“Since I didn’t have many dresses to begin with, I’ve had quite a few new ones made for the occasion.”
“You didn’t have many dresses?” Florianne frowned slightly, her brow furrowing in surprise. Beatrice had mentioned her improved relationship with the Duchess, but this suggested that things hadn’t been great before.
The Ember family was wealthy. Even if Beatrice was an illegitimate child, it was difficult to imagine such neglect within the same household.
“The family didn’t completely withhold financial support,” Beatrice explained calmly. “But the annex staff often siphoned off my allocated budget without anyone noticing.”
“They embezzled from you?”
“The Duchess has since dismissed them or punished those responsible. I’ve also been moved to a room in the main mansion.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
It wasn’t uncommon for a noble family to treat an illegitimate child with indifference, providing financial support but little else. Even that was considered generous by most standards, given the general disdain such children faced.
What bothered Florianne, however, was Beatrice’s attitude. She spoke about her mistreatment with a detached, almost indifferent tone, as though it were entirely unremarkable. There wasn’t a trace of resentment or sadness in her voice.
Now I understand why the Duchess has taken an interest in her. A young lady this calm and composed, even after such treatment, would easily stir guilt in anyone.
The Duchess of Ember might be intimidating, but she wasn’t heartless, either as a person or a noblewoman.
“May I offer you a bit of advice?” Florianne asked gently.
“Yes, please go ahead, Lady Buildrander.”
“As someone who has agreed to be your companion for the debutante ball, I’d like to offer a piece of advice. At the party—or in general—please don’t share such stories with other nobles.”
The social circles of the nobility were like a parade of peacocks hiding venomous fangs. It was a world filled with people who thrived on gossip and scandals, delighting more in others’ downfall than in lifting anyone up.
While the Duchess’s dominance over high society and her sons’ sterling reputations might deter people from directly targeting Beatrice, the revelation that she had been neglected by her family would change the narrative. They couldn’t harm the powerful Ember family itself, but they could rip into its illegitimate daughter to satisfy their spiteful inclinations.
“High society is much more—”
“So, it’s okay for me to share these things with you, then?”
“What?”
“You said I shouldn’t share them with other nobles. That means it’s fine to talk about them with you, doesn’t it?”
Beatrice’s golden eyes met Florianne’s, curving ever so slightly with amusement. Florianne’s clear blue eyes flickered with surprise, and after blinking several times, she let out a soft laugh and nodded.
“Of course. We haven’t known each other for long, but our families have maintained strong ties for generations. I’m on good terms with both Duke Calrex and Lord Felix. I promise, Lady Beatrice, I would never harm you.”
Before Florianne could say more, a knock interrupted their conversation. With her permission, Emily entered, pushing a tray of tea. It seemed she had been waiting for a pause in the discussion.
Beatrice shifted her gaze briefly to Emily. The maid, ever loyal to Florianne, was an indispensable presence by her side. Florianne had always stood at the center of high society in every life Beatrice had lived and was known for leaning toward the side of good—most of the time.
“This tea has a lovely aroma,” Beatrice said as Emily gracefully poured tea into their cups, filling the room with a subtle fragrance.
Fortunately, it wasn’t overly sweet, which Beatrice appreciated. She took a sip, her movements precise and unhurried. The way she held the cup, the angle of her arm, and even the absence of sound when she set it down demonstrated her refined manners. Despite being neglected, her education had clearly been impeccable.
Florianne watched Beatrice’s composure and followed suit, picking up her own cup.
“This tea was imported from another country. I discovered it at the marchioness of Deplois’ tea party and decided to bring some back. It’s made from flowers not found in the Empire.”
“I haven’t had much tea in my life, but I can tell this is exceptional,” Beatrice replied.
“I’m glad it suits your taste.”
Beatrice had never been particularly interested in tea throughout her lives. She drank whatever was offered, more out of obligation than preference. While her maids had once gone out of their way to present her with different teas, she never bothered to ask their names. If anything, she had always preferred alcohol over flower or herb-infused water.
As the conversation lapsed into silence, another knock came at the door. Beatrice glanced toward it, expecting Emily to answer, but the door suddenly swung open without permission.
“My apologies, I’m late,” came a voice.
“Gallet?” Florianne said, barely masking her irritation.
The intruder was Gallet Buildrander, the eldest son of the family. Florianne called his name with a strained expression, finding his audacity unbearable. His words implied he had been invited, yet she had no recollection of including him.
“Excuse me, but who might you be?” Beatrice asked, feigning ignorance.
Of course, she knew exactly who he was, but she chose to act as if she didn’t. Though even an outsider could have easily guessed his identity—Gallet and Florianne resembled each other so closely they could have been twins. Their golden hair and striking blue eyes, reminiscent of melted gold and the sea, were among the reasons for their popularity in high society.
“I am Gallet Buildrander, the eldest son of the Buildrander family. When I heard that Lady Beatrice of the Ember family would be visiting, I asked Florianne if I could join you. Unfortunately, I was delayed by some matters.”
“That’s strange. I don’t recall hearing anything about this,” Florianne said coldly.
“It must have slipped your mind, right, Florianne?” Gallet replied with a charming smile, which Florianne met with a tightly shut mouth.
Despite her silent protests, Gallet interpreted her reaction as consent and confidently strode into the drawing room. He seated himself beside Florianne without seeking Beatrice’s permission.
Beatrice emptied her teacup and set it down with quiet precision. She found Gallet’s behavior rude but chose not to address it, instead turning her attention to him with quiet observation.
It was fascinating how different the twins’ impressions were despite their shared appearance. She had noticed this contrast in all her previous lives as well.
“I am Beatrice Ember of the Ember family,” she said, offering a polite but formal greeting.
Gallet, unaware of her prior knowledge of him, smiled brightly. This wasn’t the first time Gallet had sought her out. In past lives, he had shown interest in her whenever he perceived an opportunity.
In one life, he had turned away after discovering her mistreatment by the Ember family. But now that her relationship with the family seemed to have improved, he was back. Beatrice wondered if this time he aimed for marriage—after all, he had married a marquis’s daughter in one of her previous lives.
“It’s an honor to meet you. You’re extraordinarily beautiful,” Gallet said smoothly.
“Am I?” Beatrice replied flatly, her tone so dry it almost felt dismissive.
His smile faltered briefly, a slight twitch in his narrowed eyes betraying his discomfort. It was so fleeting that most wouldn’t have noticed.
Beatrice shifted her gaze back to her freshly poured tea, uninterested. Were it not for her current plans, she might have considered his proposal. Unfortunately for him, Lily’s value far exceeded his in her eyes.
Florianne, observing the interaction, bit her lower lip to stifle a laugh. Most people, especially young noblewomen, would be charmed by Gallet’s looks and confidence. Yet Beatrice reacted as if he were no more than another servant entering the room.
“I understand that my sister has agreed to be your companion for the debutante ball,” Gallet said, attempting to recover.
“Yes,” Beatrice replied curtly.
“She’s well-regarded and kind. I’m sure she’ll be of great help to you.”
“I know.”
“…If there’s anything she can’t assist with, I’d be happy to help you myself,” Gallet added, his tone beginning to falter.
“I’ll consider it.”
Despite his efforts, Gallet’s voice grew weaker. He was unused to such indifference. Most young ladies would respond with enthusiastic chatter to his advances, but Beatrice treated him as though he were inconsequential.
Seated before Gallet, Beatrice’s brief, disinterested replies made it clear she had no intention of engaging in conversation. Gallet glanced at Florianne, wondering if this cold demeanor was in reaction to his abrupt and impolite entrance. Yet, all he saw was his sister barely suppressing a smirk.
Of course, she wouldn’t help me out, Gallet thought with a bitter smile. Beatrice’s expression betrayed no irritation or discomfort; she merely stared down at her teacup, avoiding his gaze entirely. Perhaps it was her lack of experience with people, given how rarely she left the house.
“If you don’t already have a partner for the debutante ball, may I have the honor of escorting you?” he ventured.
“A partner for the debutante ball?” Beatrice raised her gaze slightly, her tone as neutral as ever.
“It is customary for the debutante herself to have a partner who is not a family member.”
“And why would the Count’s heir extend such an offer to me?”
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