1.
It was peculiar how vividly the memory of the first time Kaella met the Lyussenford ladies remained. Exhaustion usually caused her mind to blur, conveniently erasing details until only the most jarring, provocative moments remained.
The biting mockery, the condescending glares, the way Peon ignored her or simply refused to hear her voice. And Beatrice, radiantly beautiful. That was all.
Yet, why did that day—the day her younger self first stepped out to greet them—persist? To be precise, the fluttering heart, the tension, the slight fear, and the sense of anticipation remained the sharpest. Now, far too weary to harbor such emotions, Kaella entered the room. The ladies rose in unison.
After a chorus of gasps, they gathered their skirts and bowed deeply. They hadn’t expected the Grand Duke to accompany her.
“This is the first event hosted by my wife, so I hope you all enjoy yourselves.”
Peon turned to Kaella, his tone tender.
“However, if you feel even the slightest bit tired, or if you aren’t feeling well, you must return immediately.”
In Lyussenford, a husband escorting his wife to a gathering of women, let alone appearing himself, was an affront to his dignity.
Admittedly, the work of these ladies was not entirely devoid of influence; politics were often swayed within the boudoirs. They were the only ones who stood shoulder-to-shoulder with their husbands. But for a man to show affection, to escort his wife, or to treat her with care? These were, in the parlance of Lyussenford, ‘sappy things only those spineless southerners would do.’ Even in Krain, it was a rarity. Kaella knew this well.
*That’s something only my father would do.*
Adeo De Chasseur, the Duke of Ostain, who had married for love and never remarried, was that kind of man. Whenever her mother attended a gathering, he would escort her. Kaella had once thought it natural for a husband to be a companion—someone who listened, took an interest, and engaged in deep conversation.
Perhaps that was why the failure of her marriage had been such a devastating blow. If she had expected nothing, she would not have been hurt, but she had naively wished for so much. Now, she wanted nothing. She knew the truth: a husband was a man who did nothing for you.
“You must take good care of my wife.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Yet, wasn’t this the opposite? Peon, who did not forget to instruct the maids, was not ‘a husband who did nothing,’ but ‘a husband who did far too much.’ Having done with ease what a Lyussenford Grand Duke would never dream of, he swept his gaze across the ladies once before turning back to Kaella.
“Have a pleasant time. I shall take my leave.”
The shock he left behind was palpable. The eyes that now looked upon the frail future Duchess of Ostain—the Emperor’s niece—were cautious. Most of those gathered had been present at the banquet where the Grand Duchess had collapsed.
After the Grand Duke had performed the monumental act of banishing the head maid and executing the others, he appeared here, doting on her. The perceptive ones realized it instantly.
The Grand Duchess would now have an enormous influence on the power structure of Lyussenford.
“Please, sit, Your Highness.”
The maids from Ostain, heads held high, seated the Grand Duchess in the place of honor and quietly retreated.
Wrapped in pure white fur—a rare material unseen in these parts—the Grand Duchess wore diamonds that the ladies wouldn’t even dare dream of. Her dress was a design distinct from the local trends, so sophisticated that the fashion-obsessed ladies were already reeling.
Kaella sat silently. She didn’t know what to say to these faces. To be precise, she couldn’t bring herself to speak because she didn’t know how to frame her words to avoid being mocked.
In the past, whenever her younger self had spoken, they would smile, exchange knowing glances, and toss out biting remarks. They were stabs that would linger long after she was left alone, leaving her to ache as the hidden meanings sank in.
*How should I speak so they won’t look down on me?*
The defense mechanism she should never have had to learn surfaced instinctively. She was gripped by the fear that no matter what she said, they would laugh. Could she just give it all up?
Just then, one lady stepped forward.
“I dare to offer my greetings first, Your Highness.”
Kaella turned her stiffened neck. A middle-aged woman wearing yellow patterns on dark green velvet bowed deeply. Kaella had to stifle a laugh of disbelief; she knew this display of deference was insincere.
“I am Yolnes of the Pare family. My husband is the gatekeeper of the Lyussenford castle.”
Yolnes Pare, who had joined the head maid, Doris, in bullying the young Grand Duchess, was a quintessential Lyussenford native—loud, brash, and power-hungry. She had been among those who cornered Kaella during the first banquet. Perhaps she had escaped punishment through her husband, but a personality like that does not simply disappear.
With the sturdy build typical of the region, she was tall and thick-set. Her face featured protruding brow bones, a large nose, and prominent cheekbones. Her bulging eyes rolled with a restless, cruel intent. Whenever she had giggled in the past, whispering in the local dialect, the young Grand Duchess had been terrified.
“Since the head maid is absent for your first meeting, I believe it is appropriate for us to offer our greetings in turn, Your Highness.”
In short, since the head maid was gone, she intended to claim the role. Everyone knew a replacement would be chosen from this room. Yolnes Pare had taken the initiative. If the husband were the gatekeeper and the wife the head maid, their family’s influence would be absolute.
Kaella read the intention immediately.
“See that you do.”
Without a head maid, proper etiquette was impossible to maintain. As Kaella merely nodded, Yolnes Pare brightened.
“Thank you. Then, let us start with Alicia of the Lulmon family…”
“No.”
Even without desire, anger remained. The words, which had immediately pivoted to her own circle, were cut short. Anger welled up in Kaella against these tiresome women who looked down on her. She forced her voice out, sharp and icy.
“Didn’t you yourself say to offer greetings in turn?”
Where did she get off, trying to position her own aides and friends first? Those who greeted the Grand Duchess first held the advantage. The further down the line one went, the more perfunctory the reception would become.
Kaella would not let such a cunning trick slide. If Yolnes Pare tried to laugh at her again, she would see her hung on the executioner’s block all the same. Incensed by the memory of being ignored, Kaella stared straight ahead.
Silence followed. The stout Yolnes Pare recoiled at the correction, glancing around, caught off guard.
Good. Having confirmed her authority, Kaella pointed toward the opposite side—the side furthest from the Pare family.
“You there. Start with that side and introduce yourselves one by one. Yes. You, at the very end.”
A plain-looking lady near the wall was startled. Accustomed to being suppressed, she hesitated.
“Go ahead.”
No matter the circumstances, Kaella had been a Grand Duchess who maintained her dignity until the very end. She held her shoulders back, chin tucked slightly, speaking with articulate grace. When she urged them again, the lady hurried forward and bowed.
“I—it is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.”
The voice was trembling, but she regained composure. “I am Fabiola, the wife of the knight Alfred Cirenster. Congratulations on your marriage, and welcome to Lyussenford.”
The greetings followed. The women of the Pare, Lulmon, and Duncaster families, who had once held Lyussenford in a tight grip but had now seen five of their own executed, behaved with utmost deference. They bowed deeply, claiming they were ‘overjoyed’ that Her Highness had arrived.
*Empty words.*
They were blatant lies. It was these very families who had resented her back then and had been at the forefront of the campaign to ignore her. They had played a part in her imprisonment. This time, she would kill them before they killed her. The goal of ‘not getting hurt’ was far too hopeful a dream.
“I am Merma, the wife of the knight Hugo Perwedding. It is truly fortunate and joyful that Your Highness has recovered. I pray that only joyful things happen for you in Lyussenford.”
There were always those who saw an opportunity for boldness. The atmosphere froze; the families of the recently executed, including Yolnes Pare, glared at Merma Perwedding. Sir Hugo Perwedding was known for his upright personality; perhaps his wife shared that, or perhaps she simply had hidden ambitions. Everyone knew this gathering was a test to scout for a replacement for Doris Windgood.
“I thank you.”
Unlike the times she had merely nodded, Kaella answered. The fact that the Grand Duchess, who never smiled, had replied was significance enough. She would thoroughly exclude those who had hurt her.
･ ｡ﾟ✧: *. ꕥ .* :✧ﾟ. ･
Why did she remember the first day of her duties? It had been a day of nothing special. On the surface, there had been no problems. Today, rather than happiness, she felt only calm. The ladies had offered their greetings and returned home after enjoying the refreshments.
In the past, she had put effort into every tea set, naively hoping they would find the Ostain style fascinating. This time, she hadn’t cared at all.
Every time she faced them, the words, expressions, and glares they had once aimed at her—though they didn’t exist in this moment—came back to life and stabbed at her. She didn’t want to imbue meaning into what went into their mouths, nor did she want to put in any effort. They weren’t worth it.
“Are you in a good mood, Your Highness?”
Her maid, Denise, asked with a bright smile. Did she say she was in a good mood?
“We are also very happy. How gratifying it was to see them unable to say a word and bowing their heads.”
“Lower your voice, Denise. Someone might hear.”
Cecil scolded her, glancing at the Lyussenford knights Peon had stationed to follow Kaella, though a smile was etched on her own lips as well.
“So what if they hear? The order has been established. To think they dared to pull such barbaric stunts in front of our Grand Duchess. I felt so relieved today.”
Everything she said was true. For a moment, Kaella felt her heart drop, wanting to dissuade her.
“It’s a relief that your expression brightened up, and that you smiled at least a bit.”
She smiled? Kaella touched her lips without realizing it. At that moment, the maids looked behind her and were startled, hurriedly stepping back.
“Are you finished?”
The knights escorting Kaella stood in formation. The tall Grand Duke was already standing three paces away. When had he approached? Kaella, startled, managed to answer.
“Yes.”
“How was it?”
“Oh, nothing happened.”
“No, not that.”
Peon, who had placed confidants around Kaella to act as his eyes and ears, wasn’t curious about the events.
“Tell me how you felt there, and what you thought.”
“It was… fine.”
“Don’t say it was fine.”
Peon smiled tenderly, though his brow was slightly furrowed. “Don’t use that word, use another.”
But it really had been fine. She hadn’t felt annoyed or wounded. On the contrary, watching them keep their etiquette had been quite fine and had made her feel good.
Kaella hesitated.
*I feel good?*
Yes. To be precise, it was gratifying, satisfying, and refreshing. That was why she felt good.
Absurdly enough, there was something in Lyussenford that made her feel good.