37.
The letter, which began with “To the honorable Erle Tristan,” proceeded in the expected tedious manner, filled with complaints about the humiliation suffered at the Russell family salon, the schemes of Lady Blanc, and the tyranny of the bourgeois newspapers.
The letter from Rossignol, venting her rage over the unfair treatment she had received, ended with a proposal.
“Last winter, you gave me an opportunity, Erle. Thanks to that, I was able to avoid scandalous rumors, and you gained the chance to attack the successor of the ducal family. As you are already aware, there is talk starting to circulate about the *Le Xixe Siecle* newspaper due to this recent incident. The Lady investigated my past and, without a shred of evidence, tarnished not only my reputation but the honor of other gentlemen as well. If *Le Xixe Siecle* were to cover the Lady’s tyranny, she would be ruined to the point of no return, and the ducal family would also suffer a blow. Furthermore, you would be able to clearly show which newspaper truly represents the opinions of the citizens of Luthes to those other papers that have begun to threaten the position of *Le Xixe Siecle*. If you so desire, I will gladly provide you with the information I possess.”
It was trivial content.
“I thought she was a relatively clever woman, but has she lost her judgment now that she’s been cornered?”
The fact that the Lady had investigated people’s backgrounds was no longer surprising. It was true that the Lady’s revelations had soiled the dignity of several families, but that did not mean they were likely to attack her.
Moreover, while he had previously been certain the Lady would not counterattack, this time, it was different. Erle handed Ava Rossignol’s letter back to the butler.
“Muschel, burn it.”
“Yes, my lord.”
The butler accepted the paper respectfully and disappeared.
‘The Lady has started to move.’
Erle’s violet eyes gleamed sharply.
There had been signs. Ever since she tried to provoke him through his mother in the department store lounge.
‘I didn’t expect her to move so boldly, though.’
So she was a lion cub after all, even if she seemed lacking.
His pale, long fingers tapped the desk slowly. How much of this was part of her plan? When had she started preparing?
“The Lady is putting on quite an interesting show.”
For the first time, he felt a spark of interest in the woman named Freya Blanc, rather than the successor to the Blanc ducal house.
‘…The Imperial Ball this year won’t be as boring as I expected.’
But before that.
‘I must make her realize what it means to challenge the name of Tristan.’
A frost-like smile flickered across Erle’s face and vanished.
Not long after, the butler of the Tristan Marquisate left the office carrying several letters. One was addressed to the *Le Xixe Siecle* newspaper, and another to the Imperial Palace.
✦ ✦ ✦
“This pattern of causing trouble and then going into seclusion—I think I’m starting to get used to it.”
In just a few days, new rumors about Lady Blanc had spread throughout the capital.
The Lady had begun her retaliation against those who had been tormenting her. And her first target was none other than Madam Rossignol.
“Your wife has really been grinding her axe, hasn’t she?”
Auguste unfolded the famous *Présent Luthès* in front of Max.
“The Lady claimed in front of the guests attending the salon that Madam Rossignol had been in the midst of divorce proceedings since before last winter and had engaged in inappropriate relations with at least six men just this year alone.”
Auguste, who had read the news article aloud, whistled.
“They say there isn’t just one or two noblewomen asking for background checks on their husbands because of this article. They’re worried their own husbands might have met Ava Rossignol.”
“Did you hear that from the tail you brought along last time?”
At Max’s question, Auguste hesitated for a moment before nodding.
“Ah, well. Yes. Anyway, there are a lot of people who see the Lady in a new light because of this.”
“See her in a new light?”
“It means it will be hard to find people openly pointing fingers and laughing at the Lady now. Besides…”
Auguste hesitated for a moment, frowning as he grumbled.
“It seems it’s become a trend among noble young ladies to copy Madam Russell and dress like a bourgeois young lady ever since that article came out.”
Max recalled the dresses Freya had been wearing lately. They certainly lacked aristocratic elegance, but they were clothes that highlighted a fresh and lovely atmosphere.
“Thanks to that, they say young ladies are flocking to the second-hand clothing store the Lady used to frequent. They even said my youngest sister and my mother stopped by there.”
Max raised an eyebrow at Auguste’s story, who was scratching the back of his head in annoyance. A lingering hint of a smile hung on the corner of his mouth. Seeing that, Auguste’s mood sank even further.
“Tsk, they have plenty of money, so I don’t know why my mother went to a place like that. It’s just going to give people something to gossip about.”
Auguste, who had been grumbling about how it made no sense for an Aschuren to imitate a Grandcen high noble, glanced at Max and asked cautiously.
“But… did you hear anything from your wife?”
“About what?”
“Like, who she’s thinking of targeting next, or something like that.”
“Why?”
Auguste’s face grew quite serious.
“If the first target was Madam Rossignol, isn’t it highly likely that the second target is someone associated with us?”
If she was indeed taking revenge for last winter, the probability was high that Lady Blanc’s next target would be the *Le Xixe Siecle* newspaper, which had been the first to publish articles about her—in other words, the Tristan Marquisate.
“Who knows.”
Was she really taking revenge? It was a situation where such rumors wouldn’t be strange, but in reality, his mother and Rossignol had started this current situation first.
Furthermore, there was another point of concern regarding the Tristan Marquisate, beyond the incident from last winter.
“Did you find out anything about the marriage proposal?”
“It seems it was handled very quietly. As expected, no one knew.”
Auguste sighed and added.
“The only information I could find was that before the Marquisate submitted the proposal—that is, shortly before the incident with your father—the previous Marquis and Marchioness Tristan and the current Marquis of Tristan visited Blanc Castle together.”
If that were the case, before the fraud case involving his father’s canal business broke out, they had already…
“Auguste, if the previous Marquis knew about my father’s business, the current Marquis of Tristan must know too, right?”
“What is this, are you actually taking your wife’s words seriously?”
“For now… find out.”
“Hah. I have to do as the boss says.”
Auguste, who scratched the back of his head roughly, could not hold back and blurted out.
“Even so, don’t trust Freya Blanc too much. If Tristan is the noblest of nobles, Blanc has 99% pure royal blood flowing through their veins. They say their legitimacy is higher than the current Imperial family’s…”
✦ ✦ ✦
The morning the dress was supposed to arrive. The expected dress did not come, and a messenger arrived instead.
“It will take some time to adjust Madam’s dress. I will send it by the day of the ball no matter what. I am truly sorry. P.S. A certain Madam asked me to tell you that she has an appointment with Freya. ‘If Madam Étincelle needs anything, come this way,’ she said.”
— Inès Pernel
The postscript was something she recognized immediately upon seeing it. The only unexpected part was the content regarding the dress.
She had clearly confirmed it was near completion during the fitting last time… She felt puzzled but was not deeply concerned. She trusted Paul’s professional pride.
Moreover, she could guess the cause. She had even heard the absurd story that noble young ladies were flocking to Madam Pernel’s boutique all at once, creating a schedule for hourly admission.
The ripples caused by *Présent Luthès* had surprisingly even influenced Inès’s boutique.
‘She must be screaming with joy right about now.’
The second-hand clothing business had established itself well enough to prepare for a new venture, but until now, the target had mainly been middle-class women.
Since a large number of upper-class customers had flowed in this time, it was an opportunity to further expand the second-hand clothing business if she utilized it well.
Inès would obviously handle it well on her own. As she broadened her own position, Inès would also grow the business.
This time, since she would act as the fence protecting Inès and Paul, there would be no reason to worry about becoming an anonymous court tailor or a widow who disappeared without a trace.
Freya wrote a brief reply to Inès. Milla, standing nearby, placed breakfast on the round tea table and asked.
“Now that people know the true identity of Madam Rossignol, your false charges must be cleared, right, Madam?”
Freya, who had taken a bite of a tartine topped with cheese, tomatoes, and herbs on toasted bread and was reaching for a cup of cafe au lait, shook her head.
“That won’t be the case, not yet.”
“Ah, I see. I suppose it will take a little more time?”
Who knows; it was not a problem that could be solved simply by time.
Right now, they were pointing fingers at Madam Rossignol, but people would quickly turn their arrows of criticism toward her again if provoked just a little.
Individuals seek reason and logic, but “people” are often cruel, shallow, and narrow-minded. A fixed prejudice once planted does not change easily.
That was why she had been unable to escape the label of “mad Lady” for most of her repeated life.
‘This time, it will be different, though.’
The salon incident was merely a prelude. Before long, people would have no choice but to acknowledge her, even if they didn’t want to.
A cool breeze suddenly blew onto the terrace. The scent of lavender blooming in the garden, carried on the breeze, tickled the tip of her nose.
The air was warm even in the morning now. Half of June had already passed. The Imperial Ball was not far away.
‘I’m looking forward to seeing how much more surprisingly Paul’s dress will be altered.’
Freya enjoyed the harmony of the savory bread, fresh tomatoes, and appropriately melted cheese, then asked Milla.
“Is it today?”
Milla, who immediately understood the vague question, answered.
“Yes, the Grand Madam is leaving today.”
It was still hard to believe, but Max had decided to remove Mathilde from the mansion. And today was the day Mathilde would depart.
“The butler said he would have something to tell you after the Grand Madam leaves.”
“…I see.”
Even though it was under the pretext of a trip, anyone who knew would know the truth. She had no intention of going to visit her and rubbing salt into the wound under the guise of saying goodbye. No matter how much she hated her, she was Max’s mother.
Freya looked across the terrace at the well-maintained garden for a moment and asked.
“Is Mother preparing to leave now?”