47.
The Empress looked down at Freya without offering a reply. The sheer pressure of her gaze was suffocating—the gravity of a woman who had occupied the highest position in the Empire for over twenty years.
Her meaning was conveyed with stark clarity through her eyes alone: *Step aside.*
Had Freya not known her own worth, she might have been crushed by the weight of that silent command. But thanks to the Imperial Princess’s counsel, she held her ground. The blood of the royals who had held the throne of Grandcen for two centuries flowed through her veins.
Moreover, she held a trump card: the Empress could not harm her directly. Duke Blanc stood behind her. As the only daughter of the Duke—the head of the Grandcen royalist nobles who carried royal blood—she was untouchable.
When Freya refused to avert her gaze, the Empress finally let out a mocking laugh.
Regardless of how she felt beneath the surface, the duty of a Grandcen royal was to project the image of a wise ruler. For even the Empress, it was a liability to interfere with a settled contract without justifiable cause.
She decided to shift her strategy.
“Charlo, I ask you. If there was any unjust coercion in the contract between you and the Lady, I can intervene to resolve the issue. If you wish, I will honor your skills and bestow upon you the rank of a provincial noble.”
At this unconventional offer, the valets and maids in the room exchanged startled glances.
“Paul Charlo, do you wish to break the contract with the Lady?”
Paul’s face went deathly pale, as if he were about to faint. He gripped his hands together until his knuckles turned white. A heavy silence descended, demanding an answer.
It would be a lie to say he wasn’t shaken.
For a commoner from Gascony, this was an opportunity to become a nobleman in an instant. If he became the Imperial Chief Tailor, he and his family would be treated as nobility for the rest of his life. It was an opportunity that would never come again.
*But.*
The trembling of his clasped hands ceased. His eyes, which had darted in terror since entering the palace, found their focus.
No matter how beautiful a rose might be, it could never compare to the dress he had envisioned. The black dress he had created was crafted solely with Freya Blanc in mind.
To remove Paul Charlo’s name from that garment—or to remove Freya Blanc’s name from it—was unthinkable. It was his pride, and his dignity.
“There is no problem with the contract with Lady Blanc. I wish to work as her exclusive luxury tailor for the duration of our one-and-a-half-year contract.”
The silence that followed was twice as heavy as before. Even the maids held their breath, wary of the Empress’s mood.
“…Very well. If that is what you wish, so be it.”
The Empress did not say it twice. She rose immediately and left the reception room.
✦ ✦ ✦
As Freya exited with a white-faced Paul and Inès, she saw her father approaching from the opposite direction.
“Father.”
“It seems Her Majesty the Empress called for you.”
His cold gaze lingered on her companions for a moment before returning to Freya.
“I shall see you at Blanc Castle.”
“Yes, Father.”
After their brief exchange, he moved toward the reception room. To anyone else, it looked like an ordinary audience, yet he entered alone, without even a single attendant. The reason the revolutionary army and rival nobles failed to discover the connection between the Blanc and Tristan families lay within that very room.
Who would ever imagine the Empress facilitated secret communications between Duke Blanc and Erle Tristan?
Even after the revolution broke out, the relationship between the two families and the Empress remained hidden. That was how Erle Tristan had been able to betray her father and survive alone.
She would never let that happen this time.
“Madam.”
Lost in thought, she hadn’t realized they had reached the carriage. Paul held the door, staring at her. As he climbed in, he slumped onto the seat, as limp as a failed soufflé.
“Paul… please, maintain your composure.”
“Inès, don’t say a word. I’ve completely shriveled up. I feel like a pathetic worm.”
Paul stroked his chest, his complexion still ghostly.
“It’s a blessing you stepped in, Madam. If you hadn’t, I would have been swallowed alive in that lion’s den.”
“Thank you, Freya.” Inès added, and Paul bowed his head again. “My Lady, I truly survived because of you.”
“More than me, it was your courage, Paul. You were the one who refused her in the end.”
“That is true, isn’t it? My heart was thumping so hard in front of Her Majesty, I thought it would burst.”
Seeing the two of them, Freya felt her own tension dissolve. Suddenly, Inès asked in a worried voice, “But will things be all right moving forward? It feels like we’ve become enemies with the Imperial Palace.”
“That is why we must establish ourselves even faster.” Freya raised her voice, intending to reassure them. “Now that this is settled, let’s start preparing to open the boutique in Paul’s name, as promised.”
“You promised to support us properly, so I can look forward to it, right?”
At the mention of a boutique bearing his own name, Paul’s energy returned. Freya suggested the location she had been considering.
“How about starting near Bangtong Square?”
“If it’s Bangtong, let’s go right now!”
“If we can establish ourselves there, we could even consider connecting with foreign buyers.”
As Paul and Inès grew excited, the atmosphere in the carriage turned lively.
✦ ✦ 𝔪 ✦
“The Lady might become a variable in our plans, Duke.”
Empress Claudine touched her necklace, recalling the humiliating moment in the reception room. First, she had threatened the Imperial Ball, and now this green young thing was meeting her eyes with unyielding arrogance.
*If it weren’t for the Duke, I wouldn’t have let her off regardless of the reason.*
The Empress looked at the Duke with a displeased expression and gestured to her maid, who handed over several sheets of paper—documents regarding the Lady that she had ordered collected after the ball.
“I had them look into information regarding the Lady, and they discovered something interesting.”
“I wish you had consulted with me as well.” The Duke’s displeasure was evident.
“The Duke should do his part, and I should do mine. Regardless, the Lady signed a contract with the Imperial Notary in attendance.”
“A contract, you say?”
“So, you truly didn’t know.”
With a smirk, the Empress handed the documents to the Duke. “There is a confidentiality clause, so please be careful.”
Gaspard examined the papers.
“It is a divorce contract.”
Only when the Duke’s face contorted with rage did Claudine’s mood settle.
“My gratitude.”
Watching the Duke, who could no longer hide his agitation, Claudine replied magnanimously. “Think nothing of it. I am a parent with a child of my own; I know the worries of a parent. That is a copy, so you may keep it.”
“I will handle this matter myself.”
“You should, of course. It is a matter concerning your child.” Claudine nodded. “May God be with you.”
The Duke exited immediately. The moment he stepped into the hallway, the paper in his hand crumpled.
*So this is what she meant by taking her out of it.*
A divorce contract, signed within two years. There was even a clause stating that if breached, the mining rights owned by the Blanc Family would be ceded.
It was a contract entirely favorable to Max Russell.
She hadn’t budged an inch when he spoke to her, yet she had signed such a disadvantageous agreement. She was not a reckless child; she was obsessed with her belongings.
*Unless she found out about our plans…*
Perhaps the Empress’s concern was valid. The Duke’s face turned deathly grim.
*If she cannot abandon Russell in the end… then this time, I must make it so she has no choice but to give up.*
✦ ✦ ✦
“Then, after the boutique opens in September, will other people be able to buy your black dresses, Madam?”
“That is right.”
The second week of July was already passing. The sun was hot, but a cool breeze made the interior of the carriage comfortable. Freya and Milla were heading toward the Blanc estate.
“Charlo really is an amazing person.”
“He is.”
“I’m saying. How could he be so brazen as to demand a check as if he were someone who had money deposited with you, Madam?”