Beatrice Lavalle, Lady Monde, did not particularly like Lyussenford. To her, this place was a shameful and shabby refuge.
At a time when they were backed into such a corner that they had to tear down Monde Castle just to sell off the building materials, Lyussenford was the only place the young Beatrice could go, separated from her mother who was hounded by creditors. This cold, barren place filled with stubborn, fierce people inherently did not suit her.
“How is it, my lady? Is the food to your taste?”
Above all, the people here knew Beatrice at her most miserable. They knew the wretched days when she was shivering and had no choice but to rely on her childhood friend, the Grand Duke, who had similarly been all but abandoned in Lyussenford. They pitied her on their own accord.
Even now, the butler only spoke to her because she was alone in the dining room. While Beatrice was grinding her teeth inside, she maintained a bright smile on the outside.
“Of course. It’s always wonderful. It’s a nostalgic taste.”
“To be honest, the chef keeps changing, so I was worried it might not be the taste you remember, but that is a relief.”
“The Lyussenford Castle kitchen keeps maintaining that taste. No, actually, it has improved a bit.”
“Ah, is that so?”
The butler brightened up.
In any case, Beatrice, who was in a position where she needed to make a good impression here, nodded her head. It was also her genuine feeling.
“Yes. The ingredients used are much richer, and the flavor stands out. The Lyussenford Castle kitchen is gradually developing as well. It has become a level more sophisticated.”
Frankly, the food here used to be so crude that she hated coming here just because of the meals. However, surprisingly, the moment the appetizer came out, Beatrice couldn’t help but widen her eyes.
The appearance and smell were entirely different. The potato cream soup, which used to have leftover chunks because it wasn’t even mashed properly, was now uniformly and smoothly blended, complete with a wonderful garnish on top. The taste wasn’t bad either. The subsequent grilled sole caught from the cold sea, and the beef dish that had been simmered for a long time, were also delicious. Beatrice had managed to have a rather satisfying meal.
“I am glad to hear that.”
The butler, who was more familiar with Beatrice—whom Peon had occasionally grown up with since childhood—than the unfamiliar Grand Duchess, let out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t been pleased at all that the Grand Duchess still hadn’t decided on a chef and kept changing them around, but seeing her speak like that, it seemed the level of the temporary cooks was quite decent.
‘I don’t have to worry about selecting the chef anymore.’
Among the overwhelming amount of tasks, the butler completely erased the chef issue that had been plaguing him. The Grand Duchess’s discernment couldn’t be trusted, but since Beatrice Lavalle, the flower of the Krain social circles, put it that way, that was enough.
“Why did you change the chef?”
“Well, I don’t know if you’re aware, but there was an unsavory incident.”
“Ah. If it’s that incident, it has already spread throughout Krain.”
It spread to Krain! The butler instantly lowered his head deeply. It was a disgrace.
What a disgrace! Anew, annoyance and anger flared up toward those who had forced the Tur Berry onto the Grand Duchess. To bring shame upon the name of Lyussenford!
“It is a shameful matter. Extremely shameful and embarrassing. I cannot hold my face up.”
“Is that why the Chief Maid was replaced?”
“Yes. Since that woman was the main culprit…”
At the butler’s words, Beatrice furrowed her brow. The butler thought she was simply expressing displeasure over the incident, but Beatrice was actually thinking that things had become a headache.
‘Doris was comfortable.’
The former Chief Maid, Doris Windgood, would do absolutely anything she said. She also took great pride in the fact that she had known Beatrice, who had grown up to be an incredible lady dominating the Krain social circles, since she was a child.
However, the new Chief Maid was someone Beatrice did not know at all, and her footing was bound to narrow even further, especially since Peon hadn’t set foot in the dining room today either.
“Was it that big of a deal? Is the Grand Duchess… in very bad shape?”
Let’s watch our words first. No matter how she looked at it, the atmosphere was unusual, so Beatrice, though reluctant, decided to maintain what she considered manners.
“According to the doctor, her entire body swelled up and her breathing passage was tightly blocked. The moment she arrived, we thought we were going to carry out a funeral. Even now, she must be very careful.”
She walks around just fine, so what do you mean careful? Beatrice pouted inwardly. Anyone could see that Peon was avoiding her, and it was infuriating that his excuse for avoiding her was the Grand Duchess.
On top of that, to think she had to endure that humiliation today. The butler looking at her with pity was also one of those humiliations.
‘Who does she think she is to dare…’
She thought she had been carefully looking up and stepping up the stairs until now. But somewhere, something went wrong and flipped over.
If so, just as the Emperor said when he sent her, she had to set it right.
*Go and do what you do best.*
Sitting alone at the dining table, Beatrice chewed and swallowed her damaged pride and sense of humiliation along with the crispy, sweet apple pie. An apple pie! It was just a crude, ugly, cheap food!
Inwardly, Beatrice ridiculed the standards of Lyussenford and the Grand Duchess for serving such a thing as dessert.
“My lady, would you like another plate?”
“Uh, yes.”
Well, it brings back old memories, so it’s fine. Though it is provincial. Beatrice completely cleared the second plate as well.
･ ｡ﾟ✧: . ꕥ . :✧ﾟ.
While Beatrice was grinding her teeth in the Lyussenford Castle dining room—which could be described as utilitarian at best and desolate at worst—the Grand Duke couple sat closely together at their bedroom table for the first time, putting their heads together and sharing food.
Peon found joy in watching the food his wife ate and dishing out a little more for her, telling her to eat just a bit more. As the distance between them closed, he could get her to converse a bit more.
“It seems we must cancel our plan to finish counting the silverware today after all.”
“Yes. Since the number of watching eyes has increased, we must be careful.”
As it was expected, Kaella merely nodded.
“How is the newly appointed Chief Maid? Are you satisfied with her work?”
“Lady Cirenster is clear-headed and has precise judgment.”
Though Kaella had intentionally appointed her using her grasp of the Lyussenford situation from before she died, the new Chief Maid worked humbly yet competently.
“However, she seems to clash a bit with the butler, so that part is a concern.”
“There is nothing to worry about. That is something we can figure out by putting our heads together and scheming again. Like this.”
Like this? Kaella stared at Peon, who sat closely beside her, lightly tapping the table haphazardly laid with bread, soup, and meat dishes while flashing a bright smile.
It was a dining table far removed from proper etiquette, the kind that would make the Ostain Duchy chef sigh, lamenting that the young lady was dining freely again.
It was just like the Peon of the past, who used to pack a picnic basket, spread out a mat, and smile as he handed the young Kaella small, cut-up pieces of soft yet crispy blueberry pie, or croissants stuffed with ham and cheese.
Yes. It was like that in the past.
“It feels like when we were young.”
Kaella raised her eyes to look at Peon.
“Back then, we used to go out on picnics often. You would only eat sandwiches if they were cut up, Grand Duchess.”
Because if she ate them whole, the fillings would keep sliding out and spilling everywhere, making it impossible to eat properly, so she had to stick to tiny finger sandwiches made for tea time.
Yet, it was adorable how she would steal glances at the large sandwiches Peon and Beatrice were eating, wanting to try them too.
Since she couldn’t bring herself to ask for some, she would just stare, and he would cut a piece of his share and give it to her as if giving in.
He liked seeing Kaella’s face brighten up as she accepted and ate it.
“Ah…”
However, Kaella reacted awkwardly to his words.
They had kept their distance even before getting married, and now she treated him stiffly, as if she didn’t even have memories of them once being on close terms. Was it a memory she didn’t care to recall?
Belatedly, Peon felt his heart sink.
Then again, for Kaella, who had no one else to play with except an older brother seven years her senior, it might not have been a good memory. It seemed she only ever had to follow him around, and he hadn’t even been able to play with her properly.
Then, did she already not like him very much even before the regression? Was his perception that Kaella liked him just an arrogant delusion born of an inflated ego?
“I bothered you a lot back then, didn’t I?”
Kaella, for her part, thought that the Peon she met again after dying had changed so much that she didn’t know how to fall into step with him.
Before her death, throughout their entire married life, he had treated Kaella like a total stranger he was meeting for the first time, as if they had absolutely no childhood memories together. Therefore, it felt incredibly unfamiliar for him to bring up old memories first.
“No. You were cute and lovely.”
Kaella, who merely blinked her widened eyes at his words, was just as cute and lovely now.
Even if she had followed him well when she was a child, now that she was at an age where she knew how the world worked, there was no way she would be interested in someone seven years older. Because of the age difference alone, Peon could not dare to approach her.
He had to ensure Kaella did not waste that age, which was more brilliant than jewels. She must never again die unjustly at too young an age because of a cowardly and weak husband.
“It was a pleasant meal after a long time.”
He spoke formally and stood up from his seat. Since they were destined to part anyway, he had to maintain the line. He had to grab, tie down, and lock away the part of himself that was running wild with the urge to cross that line.
“Have a good night, Grand Duchess.”
Suppressing his desire to sit a bit longer, Peon forced himself to stand up and leave the bedroom. The moment he stepped outside, the chilly air instantly enveloped him.
Since he had placed his wife in the Grand Duke’s bedroom, he was currently sleeping on a makeshift, rough bed in the room next to his office. Working late into the night and sleeping on an uncomfortable bed was something he was used to as a soldier. After regressing, it didn’t even feel uncomfortable. He had to endure. Only by enduring could he protect her.
However, entirely separate from that, there were times when his senses became pointlessly sharp.
Peon detected light footsteps pattering up the opposite hallway facing the Grand Duke’s bedroom. Today, Beatrice Lavalle had no choice but to use the Grand Duchess’s bedroom. Peon, who did not want to run into her, immediately left the front of the Grand Duke’s bedroom.
“Rolf!”
However, even when he reached his office, he could hear Beatrice calling for the butler.
“Where is Peon?”
“Ah, at this hour, he is likely in his office.”
And unlike with Kaella, the voice of the butler being so kind to Beatrice carried clearly—all of it, every single bit—even through the thick walls, doors, and dozens of stairs.
His senses, which had become incredibly acute instead of returning to normal because the restrictions did not work after his regression, were useful at times like this.
Peon rose from the seat he was about to sit in again and headed to the bathroom.
“I should wash up.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
He deliberately blocked his senses from directing toward the Grand Duke’s bedroom area and kept avoiding Beatrice. The moment he hid in the bathroom, he heard the office door open.
“Peon? …He’s not here. Where is he wandering about?”
He knew. Beatrice was tenacious. Her desires were very strong, and she would do anything to fulfill them. She was fully intending to see Peon tonight by any means necessary.
‘Annoying.’
No, beyond annoying, it was irritating. He was the master of this castle, yet he was in a situation where he had to avoid an uninvited guest. However, he had absolutely no intention of meeting Beatrice alone.
He would not tarnish Kaella’s honor by failing to properly play the role of a husband like he did before the regression.
Resting his arms loosely on the tub, Peon ran a hand through his hair. Was Kaella also washing up around now? Was the water temperature warm? She shouldn’t catch a cold, so she needs to be careful.
“Rolf! Peon isn’t in his office?”
“Ah, he is currently in the bathroom.”
“Where?”
Peon looked up at the ceiling and let out a sigh. He could only hope that Kaella would quickly replace that butler, who couldn’t tell left from right and babbled even the Grand Duke’s minor movements to an outsider.
Because he was a husband who left everything to his wife. He intended to give everything to Kaella and live with nothing himself.
He didn’t even have time to leisurely sit in the bathtub and rest. After quickly washing his body, he wrapped a large towel around himself and slipped out of the bathroom. He barely avoided Beatrice by a hair’s breadth.
“Peon? …Tsk, he’s not here.”
She called his name in a bright voice, but the moment she discovered he wasn’t there, her voice turned vicious in an instant.
It seemed she was quite anxious since she hadn’t seen him since dinner tonight and the situation had shifted. But even so, barging into a place where a married man is washing up—is she in her right mind? What on earth had she been doing in places where he wasn’t looking?
“…Ah.”
Peon, who had thrown on some clothes and come out, groaned and placed a hand on his forehead. Water dripped from his wet hair, but he didn’t have the peace of mind to wipe it away.
Before he regressed, how difficult must it have been for Kaella in places he didn’t know about? The exiled former Chief Maid, Doris Windgood, had complained that the Grand Duchess was fastidious and kept replacing the maids, but those maids must have been the ones in the wrong.
He should have looked into even those minor issues. If he had, Kaella, ‘now’ would…
“Peon?”
Peon, who was leaning against the wall in a white shirt with the buttons undone and a towel draped around his neck, turned to look at Beatrice, who had finally found him.
“Ah, here you were. I looked for you for a long time.”
“Why look for me?”
When a dry voice returned, Beatrice smiled radiantly.
“Because I wanted to see you.”
“It’s late. Good night.”
No, it would be better if you had a nightmare. Peon muttered half-heartedly as he moved his feet. Having a good night’s sleep was only necessary for Kaella.
“S-Sleeping?”
Beatrice stuttered, utterly flabbergasted. To think that she, the flower of social circles, the queen who dominated high society, had come, and he was just going to sleep?
Seeing that Peon happened to be loosely dressed in just a shirt and trousers despite the chilly weather, she thought it was a perfect opportunity. She had even come prepared to cross a line they had never crossed before, yet he was going to sleep? What went wrong?
“Peon, it’s been so long since we last met. We should catch up.”
She intentionally made her voice seductive and slid closer, but before her pale hand could stretch out, Peon was already walking far ahead. It was obvious he wasn’t even listening to what she was saying.
“Where are you going?”
In front of the chasing Beatrice, he grabbed and opened the Grand Duke’s bedroom door.
“Where else would I go.”
Exposing the muscles honed through real combat, he glanced down at Beatrice with cold eyes.
The moonlight pouring through the hallway windows illuminated everything from his wet hair to his dark eyebrows, his sharp eyes, his tightly closed lips, his exposed neck, chest, and down to his abdomen. His body, entirely filled with nothing but lean muscle, radiated pure masculinity. Beatrice unexpectedly thought her throat felt dry.
“I’m going to my wife.”
And in the next moment, Peon stepped inside the open door. The door slammed shut right before Beatrice’s eyes.