“You look truly beautiful, Miss! Didn’t I tell you? You would look so much prettier if you applied this ‘flower water powder.’ Ho ho ho!”
“Really…? Don’t my cheeks look too red?”
“This style of makeup is in fashion these days, you know? It gives you a healthy, youthful glow, which is lovely, isn’t it?”
Lynnia tilted her head, repeatedly checking her reflection. She felt awkward about her cheeks, which were far redder than usual.
Beside her, Marsha continued to urge her on.
“You know I stood in line since dawn just to buy one of these, right? They’re sold out everywhere because they’re so popular.”
“It costs 400 Lington a piece, and they’re sold out?”
“For the nobility, 400 Lington is nothing, is it? They say new products are coming out in a few months, so I’ll go even earlier next time and bring back two. Since you have the rose-colored one now, wouldn’t something with a coral or light purple tint be nice?”
Lynnia was flustered by Marsha’s promise to buy two more of the expensive cosmetics.
“What? T-there’s no need for that!”
“It’s fine, Miss. It’s for you, so is losing a little sleep really such a big deal? Ho ho ho!”
Completely oblivious to Lynnia’s concern, Marsha busily showcased her loyalty. The reason she was now so eager to please Lynnia—whom she had inwardly looked down upon until recently—was, of course, because of Edel.
“By the way, Miss.”
“What?”
“There’s something that has me worried.”
“Something that has you worried? What is it?”
Marsha leaned in close to Lynnia, who was still staring at her reflection.
“That woman who used to be the Duchess.”
“Right, the one who collapsed and was on the brink of death because of you? Why on earth did you do that? Don’t you know you’ll suffer if you mess with my brother’s things?”
Instead of comforting her, Lynnia questioned her with a sharp glance.
Marsha suppressed the urge to grab Lynnia by her hair and shake her, instead putting on the most pitiful expression she could muster.
“I’m innocent, Miss. She doesn’t even speak to me, so how could I have known she was sick? I suspect she faked her collapse just to mess with me.”
“Aillan was there, so how could you have fooled him?”
Lynnia recalled a time in the past when she had pretended to be sick to get her brother’s attention, only for Aillan’s diagnosis to reveal she was faking it. Back then, Laslo had scolded her until she was in tears, and she had never attempted such a thing since.
Seeing that Lynnia wasn’t taking her side, Marsha’s insides boiled.
*‘That’s only because you’re a stupid, talentless actress! It’s pathetic to serve someone like this as a mistress!’*
But she couldn’t say that out loud.
“Anyway, that’s not what I’m worried about, Miss.”
“Then? Is there something else?”
Marsha whispered into Lynnia’s ear, as if afraid of being overheard.
“I think that woman, Edel, is targeting the Count.”
“What?”
At those words, Lynnia’s brow furrowed sharply. Sensing that Lynnia had finally taken the bait, Marsha began to wag her snake-like tongue.
“Yesterday, when Mina went to leave some water in the Count’s bedroom, she saw Edel entering his office, believe it or not.”
“If she went to leave water, it must have been quite late, right?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Why on earth would she go to a room where a man is alone at such a late hour? Her intentions are too obvious!”
If Marsha’s speculation were true, it was an unpleasant matter for Lynnia.
*‘My brother must not have a sordid past!’*
Lynnia believed that Laslo deserved a flawless marriage with a decent, pure-blooded noble lady. She held a strange sense of pride in her brother, who had maintained a clean private life despite the mercenary guild being riddled with scandalous rumors, and she still harbored romanticized fantasies about marriage.
She could not tolerate such a man taking a woman who had lived as a second wife to an old man as his mistress—especially a woman who was a mere servant from a house involved in treason.
“So, did she try to seduce my brother?”
“It seems she failed for now. She came back out shortly after. But, you know, there isn’t a man who can resist forever if a woman tries to seduce him with her body.”
Lynnia ground her teeth.
“She acts all noble and demure, only to try and seduce him when she gets desperate?”
“What did I tell you? I told you she was rotten to the core. She’s a traitor, a traitor!”
As Lynnia became agitated, Marsha began to chatter excitedly. Although Laslo was the head of the house, he was rarely home due to his work at the Imperial Palace. The one who truly wielded power here was not Laslo, but Lynnia. Marsha was confident that by having such a person of real power in the palm of her hand, she would ultimately be the victor.
*‘Just you wait. I’ll make that girl Edel and everyone attached to her beg me for mercy!’*
However, for now, even Lynnia couldn’t touch Edel. Because of Aillan’s diagnosis that she was near death, Laslo had flown into a furious rage; if she were to summon Edel—who was currently recuperating in the guest room—there was no telling what kind of punishment she would receive from him.
“For now, my brother will have her return to her duties once she rests a few more days. I’ll give her a stern warning around that time.”
“I’ll say it again, Miss—you are the only one who can protect the Count from those base women who cling to him for money and status.”
“I know, so stop blabbering. It’s annoying.”
Lynnia snapped at Marsha, whose motives for trying to use her to harass Edel were obvious. Regardless, Lynnia found Edel just as spiteful, so she didn’t intend to ignore Marsha’s plea entirely.
*‘She must have been burning with impatience, thinking she would naturally become my brother’s mistress only to end up doing servant work. She must be trying to cling to my brother using this incident as an excuse….’*
Lynnia made up her mind to stay sharp to protect her brother.
* * *
The Marquis Celestine estate was located on Grania Street in the Herona 2 district. Though not as famous as Herona Street, Grania Street was a well-known residential area for nobles, and as such, it was clean and well-maintained.
However, Laslo felt uncomfortable in these noble districts.
*‘Patris Street is much better. It’s not busy and it’s closer to the Imperial Palace.’*
Thinking that it was a good thing he had accepted the mansion on Patris Street, Laslo passed through the gate of the Marquis Celestine estate. Today was the day the Dowager Marchioness had requested a meeting.
*‘The mansion is smaller than I thought.’*
He had visited many great noble estates while accompanying the Emperor, but this was his first time at the Marquis Celestine estate. True to a family that didn’t make a scene in either high society or politics, both the garden and the mansion had a neat, orderly feel. There was a sense of being sharp and precise—perhaps because the touch of the Dowager Marchioness, famous as a “heroine who saved her house,” still remained everywhere.
*‘Though, it seems there are people who slander her as a woman who ate her husband.’*
However, Laslo held Barbara in high regard. What did it matter if a woman stepped forward when the family was on the verge of collapse?
*‘Those who are full of themselves always invent strange rules for others.’*
Just then, the horse gave a light neigh, and the carriage came to a halt.
“Welcome, Lord Krissus. Welcome to the Marquis Celestine estate.”
Laslo stepped out of the carriage, greeted by the hospitality of an impressive-looking butler. With an attitude that was neither too much nor too little, the butler guided him to the drawing room. Laslo was more envious of that butler than the beautiful room itself.
*‘Where on earth do you find a butler like that?’*
Thinking of the documents piled up on his desk, his head began to throb again. While he was looking around the room, the Marquis Celestine and the Dowager Marchioness finally entered.
“We finally meet, Count Krissus!”
The Marquis Celestine, in his mid-30s, greeted Laslo with warmth. Whether that was genuine or not remained to be seen.
“Thank you for the invitation, Marquis Celestine. And… Dowager Marchioness.”
“Let’s not use such long titles when there are easier ones. Just call me Barbara.”
Barbara was an elderly lady who, just as he had caught a glimpse of her before, didn’t look like someone to be trifled with. She had just turned sixty, hadn’t she?
“I am Laslo.”
“I know. But you are…”
“Even so, since you are the head of a noble house, I shall address you as Count.”
Confirming that she would allow him to use her name, while refusing to let herself call Laslo by his, gave him the distinct impression of the boundary she had drawn. Laslo let out a dry chuckle.
“It seems it would be better if we both refrained from using names that make the other uncomfortable.”
“Now that you mention it, that does seem to be the case.”
They probed each other, neither yielding even an inch. As they took their seats, the maids arranged warm black tea and refreshments on the table. While the items were not particularly extravagant, the variety of the treats, their precise placement, the temperature of the tea, and the grace with which it was poured all spoke of a genuine consideration for the guest.
Laslo was inwardly impressed. *Would this kind of hospitality be possible in my own house?*
He had never invited guests over before, but thinking of Lynnia or Marsha provided an easy answer.
*Absolutely impossible.*
Laslo sipped his black tea as if to wash away the bitterness in his mouth. To the eyes of an outsider, he likely appeared as nothing less than an apex predator, lacking for nothing.
By the time the first cup of tea hit the bottom, the Marquis Celestine began to bring up the main topic.