Chapter 30 – Unpolished Name
Ada continued, her lips curved into a faint smirk.
“To be honest, Mellie, you’re aware of it too, aren’t you? You’re lacking in many ways as a duchess.”
“… … .”
Mellie knew this very well, but admitting it aloud was another matter entirely.
“It won’t do for the mistress of the Felton family to act clumsily. From now on, I’ll educate you. I’ll teach you everything you need to know to fulfill your role as the mistress of this family.”
Ada’s gaze shifted to her son.
“No objections right, Edric?”
“No, Mother,” Edric replied plainly.
Just like that, Mellie’s affairs were decided without her consent, through the tacit agreement of the two. Ada, as the former duchess, had the authority to make such decisions, and Edric’s compliance was unsurprising. Yet…
Mellie couldn’t help but think:
Wouldn’t it have been better if he’d said, ‘Leave that matter to us’?
“Are you dissatisfied?”
Ada’s sharp eyes narrowed as she studied Mellie’s expression.
Mellie quickly masked her emotions and shook her head.
“No, ma’am. I’m not dissatisfied at all.”
“Good.”
Ada’s eyelids fluttered briefly, her gaze carrying an air of superiority, as if to say, Of course you shouldn’t be.
Then she continued.
“Let’s address two things first.”
“…?”
“First,” Ada said, her tone firm, “a wife of the Felton family must never treat her husband disrespectfully.”
Mellie’s round eyes lowered, veiled by her falling eyelids. She understood exactly what Ada was implying.
“From now on, you must treat Edric with the utmost respect—not just in public but even when you’re alone.”
“Yes,” Mellie answered without hesitation. To her, this seemed like a natural expectation.
“What’s the second thing, Mother?” Edric asked.
Ada’s eyes glinted.
“Her name. It needs to be changed.”
Mellie’s gaze, which had been downcast, darted back to Ada in shock.
“My name…?” Mellie asked hesitantly.
Ada responded without skipping a beat.
“Yes. Honestly, how can a duchess have a name that sounds indistinguishable from a servant’s?”
“… … .”
“Your father probably gave you that name, didn’t he?”
Mellie nodded stiffly.
Ada scoffed as though the answer was obvious.
“Your mother, Jasmine, would have chosen something far more elegant. What a shame.”
Mellie, who had never once thought her name was inadequate, felt dumbfounded. Was her name really so unsuitable? She had never questioned it before.
“Melissa,” Ada declared finally, her voice carrying the weight of finality.
The name was both familiar and unfamiliar to Mellie, like a distant echo.
“Melissa Felton. That’s what you’ll be called from now on. A name far more fitting than Mellie.”
“… … .”
Mellie didn’t know how to react. Her mind spun with confusion. She glanced at Edric for support.
“It’s not bad, is it?” Edric smiled gently, his tone casual. “You think so too, right?”
“… … .”
Mellie couldn’t bring herself to agree, but she also didn’t want to disrupt the fragile happiness she had just begun to grasp.
It’s just a name, she thought, trying to console herself. Changing a first name is just like changing a last name after marriage. It’s just one more letter added to what’s already there.
Mellie forced a smile and looked at Ada.
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll accept it.”
But the corners of her mouth trembled as she spoke.
—
The midday sun cast a warm glow over the garden, the sprinklers spinning rhythmically as they sprayed artificial rain onto the dry autumn grass. A faint rainbow formed in the mist, painting the scene like a serene landscape.
Pitter-patter.
Then, the mood abruptly shifted.
A woman cut across the garden, her path deliberately taking her through the sprinkler’s spray instead of the dry pavement.
Her soaked clothes clung to her body, revealing a voluptuous figure that caused the male attendants to fumble awkwardly and the female attendants to gape in surprise.
Her body was undoubtedly striking, and her movements exuded grace—but the mean expression on her face shattered the illusion of divinity.
“Is this all she amounts to?”
Rosalind, drenched but unbothered, perched on the marble fountain’s edge with a sneer.
Francis, who had been absentmindedly staring at the water streaming from the marble Cupid statue, turned his head.
“What are you talking about?”
“The Duke of Felton.”
Rosalind waved the wet newspaper in her hand mockingly.
“He ended our engagement to marry someone like Mellie Enwood?”
“… … .”
As she spoke, the front page headline, emblazoned with Edric Felton’s name and his fiancée’s, caught the sunlight.
Francis said nothing.
With a scoff, Rosalind tossed the newspaper into the fountain.
“I’m sure it’s just some attachment they developed while living together. That’s not love.”
Francis remained silent, though he didn’t entirely disagree with her.
—
Rosalind continued to rant, her confidence unshaken. Francis, however, found himself growing irritated—a feeling that had become more frequent lately.
Her words grated on him, and he wondered: What was so compelling about her before?
“It may seem like he is her world now,” Rosalind sneered, “but Mellie Enwood—Melissa, I suppose—will learn the truth soon enough. Marriage won’t be easy for her. Not with Ada Felton in the picture.”
Francis glanced at the marble Cupid statue again, his attention caught by a half-submerged newspaper. Mellie’s name and photo were smeared, while Edric’s remained pristine under the sunlight.
Rosalind interrupted his thoughts with a sudden shift in tone.
“Well, I’ve decided to set my own path now.”
Francis turned back to her, his amber eyes curious.
“What path?”
“I’ll focus on you now,” she said with a seductive smile, leaning closer.
Francis barely reacted, his feelings toward her no longer as warm as they once were.
“Well, Rosalind,” he said after a moment, “if that’s your decision… How about becoming ‘Rosalind Herbert’ instead?”
“… … .”
Rosalind’s confident expression faltered.
“Herbert?” she echoed, disbelief evident in her voice.
Francis grinned.
“Yes. That’s my real name—Francis Herbert. I’ve decided to reclaim it. What do you think?”
His tone was teasing, but the resolve in his words was clear.
Rosalind’s eyes hardened, her earlier composure slipping.
“You’re not… leaving the Adele family, are you?”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
—
