Chapter 53: [Chapter 053] As I said, you'd be sorry
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Even though it was late at night, the Crown Princess's palace was bustling.
"You must be tired from the event, but you're still busy, Bee."
"Whenever you visit, I'm always busy. So why don't you visit more often so that we can talk when I'm not busy?"
Doris responded coldly to Crown Prince Bardenaldo's words. The maids in the Crown Princess's palace were grinding charcoal and mixing it with a medicinal substance, which they were applying thickly to her hair. Doris, who was lying on a long couch with only her head exposed, glanced at Bardenaldo with half-open eyes.
"Everyone has been saying that the reception for the envoys was wonderful yesterday and today. I came to tell you how grateful I am for your hard work."
Doris, who had briefly raised her head as a formality, lay back down and laughed softly. Bardenaldo knew very well who had helped decorate the venue and who had prepared the Elaconian language.
"Those compliments are enough. The Empress worked harder than I did, and I just imitated her. You already know whose contribution is greater, don't you? I'm embarrassed to hear such things."
"It's also your ability to have someone like that by your side. You have a good eye for people."
"That's not entirely wrong, so I'll gladly accept the compliment."
Doris smiled, genuinely meaning it.
"My aide told me that the Countess's reputation isn't very good... I was impressed by how she managed the Duke's mansion and this event. I'm impressed by your judgment."
A reputation about Blier. Arrogant. A foolish woman who didn't realize her own vulgarity. Something like that, wasn't it? It was obvious without even hearing it. Blier Acacia. A beautiful noblewoman who had caught her eye since her debut. A face that resembled Adrien Pyreta. That woman always gave off the impression of being a noble lady who had received a higher education, but as soon as she opened her mouth, she turned into a fool. It didn't matter much what people thought of such a woman. But it was quite amusing to see someone with Adrien's face act like a puppet in her mouth. And it was helpful. It was also true that Bardenaldo's words weren't wrong, as she had chosen Bardenaldo with a brilliant future ahead of her, giving up the beautiful Roardnes, and decided to bring Blier in, rejecting countless noblewomen who wanted to become her maid.
"Count Castagna told me that the envoy might return to Epere due to the successful welcome party."
"As expected, you're not happy about it, are you?"
Doris leaned her head back and smiled, her voice and actions becoming sharper.
"Have you finally realized what kind of person your father-in-law is?"
"It seems like he didn't convey my message that the timing wasn't right, Bee."
Doris smiled with a knowing expression, her eyes closed.
"How lonely it must be to have a brother who tells you that the timing is not right when you want to return home."
"Epere must also fulfill his duties as a prince."
His voice was gentle, but his meaning was cold. Epere Ronta was the son of the new Empress who had ascended the throne only a few years ago. He had grown up under his birth mother, who had been a mere concubine, and had studied abroad in Elacon.
"Your Ninth Highness should also find a fiancée. If he stays in Elacon and falls in love with a woman there, the Empress won't be happy."
"I didn't know you and your father thought so lowly of Her Majesty."
"Now you know."
In the cold silence, the maids carefully rinsed Doris's hair. She could feel Bardenaldo's gaze fixed on her as he watched her being served.
'He came to say thank you, my foot.'
Why would someone who didn't even come near the Crown Princess's palace unless he had something important to do? Doris smiled faintly as she looked at Bardenaldo, who was scanning her.
"You've been blond for a long time, but now you have black hair."
"Thank you for your concern."
Doris replied, as if she was truly grateful for the unexpected attention.
"But, Bee, to my eyes, Countess Acacia looks more and more like the deceased Grand Duchess."
"I told you that at your birthday party, but you pretended not to know."
"So, are you imitating her now?"
"...What did you say?"
"Just like you imitated Adrien Pyreta a few years ago."
"...What did you just say?"
Doris tilted her head back 45 degrees, letting the black liquid drip from her hair. She sat up straight, her maids scrambling to wrap a towel around her shoulders, but the black liquid was already staining her shoulders and chest.
"Ask others. I didn't do it first. My maids suggested it."
Doris twisted her lips, irritated by the mention of Adrien Pyreta. Bardenaldo shrugged, as if indifferent to her mood, or rather, as if he was pleased. That nonchalant attitude further irritated Doris.
"Knowing full well why your father has to act like that, why are you trying to upset me like this?"
"..."
Seeing Bardenaldo not answering, Doris spoke in an even more spiteful voice.
"You know very well that everything the Duke, your right-hand man, does is to hinder my father. Why do you make things so difficult for me?"
The inheritance law for wives. A ridiculous law that stated that if a head of a family without heirs died, his wife would inherit the family. Usually, when a head of a family died without heirs, the closest relative in the family would inherit. Even if it was a distant relative. But Noebian Trovika, that fool who was so blinded by love that he wanted to give everything to his wife, proposed this insane law and, with the support of the Crown Prince, succeeded in passing it. The law stated that the wife would manage the family for five years and then find a suitable successor. But the fact that such an idea came from the mind of a great duke for several years was a topic of conversation in itself. As soon as the law was enacted, all the newspapers and gossip magazines unanimously called him the greatest romantic in Ronta. All the artists praised Noebian Trovika's name when talking about true love. Recalling that behavior, Doris furrowed her brow. It was a truly pathetic sight.
"So, he didn't even die before his wife, yet he gained fame. Indeed, he is such a remarkable talent that he can be dispatched to Elacon and miss the meeting to repeal the law."
"That law ended two years ago, Bee."
"Yes, and it's been several years since those ridiculous rumors spread that I was imitating Adrien Pyreta, making my life difficult. So, don't say anything trivial to me."
"That's enough, Your Highness."
"Don't stop me."
Doris got up from her seat, twisting her hair that had been thoroughly dried with a towel. Sitting in front of the dressing table, she snorted at Bardenaldo who was still looking at her and checked herself in the mirror. Long black hair. She would need a red-hot poker to make her hair as curly as Blier Acacia's. As Doris stroked her jet-black hair, Bardenaldo in the mirror came closer and closer.
"Doris."
Bardenaldo called her name softly, his large hands wrapping around her shoulders from behind.
Doris stared at his deep blue eyes, which were filled with a worried smile as always.
"I don't like focusing on things I can't have."
"..."
Doris stared at him, finding his words strange.
"I think it's better to focus on what you can have rather than wasting time and energy on things you can't have."
"..."Why?"
Doris shook her shoulders once, irritated by the realization that he was criticizing her. But his hands didn't move.
"You can have everything if you can get it."
Bardenaldo's expression changed very subtly at those words. Doris stared straight into his eyes, as if she wouldn't back down.
"If you can have it, you should have it all."
Bardenaldo smiled sincerely for the first time at her words. He patted her still-damp shoulders encouragingly.
"It must be God's will and blessing to have someone like you as my wife."
Bardenaldo gestured to the maids who were peeking from the corner.
"My lady can't catch a cold, can she?"
He urged them gently with a sweet and tender voice. The maids, accustomed to speaking indirectly, quickly prepared to comb and dry Doris's hair. Through the mirror, Doris watched Bardenaldo's back as he left, and she was annoyed by his vague and ambiguous way of speaking.
***
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The day after she heard the news of Count Acacia's death, the funeral was held surprisingly quickly. The servants' faces were clouded with anxiety about the future, and especially the butler and Maggie welcomed the mourners with dazed expressions. In the morning, the wheel of the carriage that Count Acacia had ridden in was brought in on a cart. The thick wooden screw in the joint was broken and rusted. It was a common accident. It was just an unfortunate accident that involved the Count, who had gone to the cliff, and the old carriage, which had been neglected in its inspection.
"Madam, the estate manager sent a letter."
I numbly tore open the letter that Yona handed me. It was exactly what I expected. The cliff below was a fast-flowing stream that had swollen due to the previous day's rain, and though they had searched the next day, they found nothing but the wreckage of the carriage nearby. They had even sent a search party down the river, but there was no sign of Count Acacia's body, and it seemed that he had been swept out to sea.
"Madam!"
I collapsed into the chair, my legs weak. Even the unfounded hope of finding the body had been shattered. Without a body, the funeral was held simply in the backyard of the manor. The distant relatives held a separate, simple memorial service at the estate, while I became the mourner in the capital. After all, he had no heir. A priest was called, and prayers were offered to the gods to guide the Count to the paradise of Abadellia. For the whole day, the first-floor lobby would become a huge chapel, and visitors would offer short prayers amidst the gentle music.
"Knight Neil, did you report this to His Highness, the Second Prince?"
"Ah, I was so flustered... I'll report it now..."
"Don't."
I couldn't burden Roardnes with this when he was already so busy. Rather than making a fuss by calling Roardnes for a one-day funeral, I needed some time to think quietly about what to do next.
"Madam!"
Yona, who had occasionally been accepting the coats of visitors at the entrance, rushed to me.
"His, His Highness, the Duke is here!"
As expected. The eyes of the few visitors turned to Noebian, and their heads bowed respectfully. Most of the people in this manor were either the Crown Prince's or Noebian's people. Under the worried gazes of Yona and Neil, I quietly approached the entrance. Noebian, ignoring the butler who was trying to take his coat, looked at me with a seemingly sorrowful and subdued expression.
"Your Grace, the Duke."
I bowed slightly as a greeting and looked at the hand Noebian silently extended. A black glove. A black uniform. The sharp and ascetic face was that of Noebian Trovika, known to all the empire.
"...Thank you..."
For a moment, it felt like only Noebian and I existed in that space. Noebian, who had politely requested a handshake, pulled me towards him as soon as our hands touched, and a sinister voice poured into my ears, over my head, and into my temples.
"...I told you, you would regret it."
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