The fabric tore at the wrist, leaving one sleeve dangling awkwardly—a sight that would make anyone do a double-take.
“It seems you’ve been quite careless.”
Any ordinary lady would have burst into tears and fled by now.
Yuliana’s icy stare shifted to Giselle. Giselle’s eyes went wide. Caitlyn smirked, watching Giselle’s genuinely shocked expression.
“Oh my~♡ It’s absolutely fabulous!”
Count Teren’s jaw hit the floor at that. Regardless, Giselle excitedly flapped her wrist, completely ignoring everyone’s stare.
Caitlyn’s frown deepened. “What exactly is so fabulous?”
“The sleeve from Madame Thunder’s collection tore into a lightning shape!”
That’s when they actually looked at the damage near her arm. Perhaps the heavens were helping Giselle. Sure enough, the tear zigzagged like a bolt of lightning.
“This dress is going to be one-of-a-kind in Madame Thunder’s entire collection! Right, Darling?”
“Yes… Darling.” Even Duke Kalinos seemed stunned by Giselle’s unshakeable cheerfulness.
At this point, Yuliana, who couldn’t tell if Giselle was being sarcastic or if this was her real personality, propped her chin. I’m growing more curious about what kind of person she really is. Giselle was the first person who’d ever talked back to her so boldly. Not that Yuliana was developing a soft spot for her or anything.
“Giselle Florette.”
“Yes~♡”
“The position of Duchess Kalinos comes with constant danger. If war breaks out, you might find yourself eating nothing but stale biscuits in a war camp alongside your husband.”
Giselle took a sip of wine and chirped back, “Of course! That’s exactly what the position entails!”
“Then stand up.”
Giselle bounced to her feet with enthusiasm. “Yes~!”
Nobody at the table saw Yuliana’s next move coming.
Yuliana fixed Giselle with her trademark glacial stare. “Remove Lady Giselle’s chair, Caitlyn.”
“Pardon?” Even Caitlyn looked taken aback this time.
But Yuliana continued with perfect composure. “There is no place for you to sit here.”
Duke Kalinos’s Adam’s apple bobbed—a telltale sign of his discomfort. “Mother.”
“What is it, Duke?”
“You’re going too far.”
It was Giselle who cut off Duke Kalinos’s protest. “Oh no, it’s perfectly fine! Go ahead and remove it!” She beamed at them all. “Madam said Duchess Kalinos has to eat stale biscuits in war camps with her husband! Giselle understands completely.”
“And?”
“I’ll show you my determination to stay by my husband’s side even in the thick of battle!”
What kind of determination could she possibly demonstrate? As everyone’s attention zeroed in on Giselle, she blushed and plopped herself right onto Duke Kalinos’s lap.
“I’ll never leave the duke’s lap!”
The moment she finished speaking, a crash echoed from Count Teren’s direction. So caught up in the drama unfolding before him, he’d startled and dropped his wine glass. But nobody spared Count Teren a glance. Duke Kalinos wore an expression more unreadable than usual, while Yuliana’s face had turned positively menacing—both completely fixated on Giselle.
In the suffocating silence, Yuliana spoke. “…Did you ask for permission to get married?”
“Yes.”
“You do realize that even as ‘Duchess,’ you cannot meddle in family affairs, and no one is obligated to acknowledge you.”
This had been true for Yuliana, the previous Duchess Kalinos, and every woman who came before her. It was a position where the weak are weeded out. Everyone earns respect and recognition as the true mistress by proving their worth.
“Oh, is that so?”
Of course, Giselle had absolutely zero intention of proving anything to anyone. With a bright smile, she hopped off Duke Kalinos’s now-rigid knee. She then boldly stepped toward Yuliana, who issued her warning.
“Especially you, Giselle. Since you’ve spent your life hiding away in the countryside, avoiding society, it won’t be easy.” That was just another way of saying Giselle was a social outcast.
Wow, attacking me for having no friends. That’s crossing the line. Well, whatever.
Noble ladies who’d never been ignored in their lives would crumble at such cutting remarks—shocked, hurt, devastated. But Giselle? She was built differently. After dealing with every flavor of bullshit life could dish out, some uppity duchess small talk barely registered in her. In fact…
“Oh absolutely! The countryside was lovely. Want me to recommend a nice little getaway spot?” She brushed it off as if it were lint on her sleeve.
Yuliana studied Giselle’s casually tossed silver hair and those eyes that held just a touch of beautiful madness. Her curiosity was definitely piqued. Not in a good way, though.
Yuliana gave Giselle the full once-over before speaking with a predatory smile. “I’m dying to see how this plays out.”
“Oh, really?”
“By all means, go ahead with this little wedding of yours. Should be… interesting.”
It was a permission that felt more like a threat. Any sensible society lady would’ve burst into tears and run for the hills by now. But what about Giselle?
Teren, suddenly fascinated despite himself, turned to look—and found Giselle practically glowing with joy. She threw her arms wide in pure theatrical bliss.
“Sweetheart, Honey, Darling! Did you hear that? Mother just gave us her blessing!”
Tern clicked his tongue in disbelief. She just completely ignored the threats, the intimidation, the whole psychological warfare thing, and went straight to ‘wedding approved.’ Unbelievable.
That woman was truly a formidable opponent. And worse…
“How delightful. I’m quite taken with it.”
…his brother was acting weird too. That faint smile was the same one he wore when he discovered something like ‘Troll Snot’ (working title)—currently the most potent healing potion known to man.
Flustered, Teren couldn’t help but ask, “…A-Are you actually serious? You want to marry my b-brother?”
“Absolutely!”
“W-W-Why?”
“Because His Grace is he~ad-over-heels in love with me~♡”
Teren nearly dropped his crystal glass again. His reflexes saved it, but Giselle’s cheerful declaration kept bouncing around his skull. Even Yuliana—who could freeze hell over with a look—seemed genuinely stunned.
Giselle clasped her hands to her chest like she was posing for a romance novel cover, beaming like a sunflower. “Why are you all making those faces? Didn’t you hear me?”
“It’s just that—”
“I’ll say it again! His Grace is madly in love with me!”
“…”
The entire table went dead silent. The idea of their ice-cold duke and the word ‘love’ in the same sentence had broken their brains. But Giselle wasn’t done.
“Isn’t that right, Darling~?” She gazed at him with pure, radiant happiness, and then that deep, velvet voice cut through the silence.
“Indeed, Darling.”
What the actual hell was happening? His brother, who’d never shown the slightest interest in any woman…
What is this madness?
A genuinely satisfied smile—the kind he usually reserved for perfect experimental results—curved his brother’s lips.
I definitely caught that look earlier.
When Giselle had plopped onto his brother’s lap, his eyes had gone wide as saucers. It was like watching a teenage boy experience his first crush, and Teren had to look away from the secondhand embarrassment.
Is this real? Those two… a-are they actually in love? Orange juice dribbled down Teren’s chin.
Score: 1-0. Against all odds, this round went to Giselle.
