Chapter 24
Shalome stood blankly at the entrance of the grand ducal mansion, slowly blinking her rabbit-like red eyes.
“Um… Your Grace, the Grand Duke?”
Yulician, who had been standing silently, frowned with one eyebrow raised as he looked down at her.
That seemed to be his answer to her calling him.
Shalome cautiously asked,
“Could you show me to the room where I’ll be staying, and the rooms for the maids? Also, could you introduce the servants and maids who’ll be assisting me here? Oh, five male servants and three maids will suffice.”
“Hah. So, Her Highness the Princess has arrived.”
“Excuse me? I told you I came from the Count of Bartolose’s household… A princess…? Hehe, thank you.”
Apparently, she took that as a compliment.
She looked no more than sixteen, a pale young lady with deep blond hair and red eyes that made her look like a lovely rabbit.
Of course, whether Shalome looked like a rabbit or a clump of clover meant nothing to Yulician.
What mattered was that her father was the emperor’s close aide.
Being told to bring her to the imperial ball was essentially a public declaration that he would marry Shalome instead of Madi.
Yulician didn’t bother hiding his irritation and scowled.
“Did I ever ask you to be my partner? You seem to know nothing of courtesy. I have no plans to raise a child—go home.”
Shalome and the maids behind her all turned pale with shock.
Just as Yulician was about to turn away, pleased with the stunned expressions on their faces, someone silently approached from behind and tripped him.
Only one person in this entire mansion would dare trip the Grand Duke.
Yulician gritted his teeth as he staggered.
Then a strong arm caught his back, and in the blink of an eye, soft lips smacked his own and pulled away.
Yulician, caught off guard, was thrown backward by the kiss, only to be yanked upright again by Madi.
“Kya-ha-ha! Good morning, honey! Catch me if you can, Your Grace! Hahaha!”
Reeking of alcohol, Madi ran across the wide entrance hall.
Shalome looked even more pale than when the Grand Duke had insulted her.
“W-Who is that woman to dare such a thing to Your Grace…?”
Yulician wiped his flushed face, sighing with a mix of embarrassment and rage.
Apparently, the clause in the contract that mentioned “fooling around moderately” had been swapped out for a bucket of candy.
“She’s… my lover who stays in this house. It’s unfortunate for the young lady who’s come all this way, but it’s best you return. As you can see, I have to play tag with my beloved. Excuse me.”
He quickly strode off in the direction Madi had disappeared, determined to give her a flick on the forehead this time if he caught her.
Shalome stood dumbfounded, trying to follow the Grand Duke to resume the conversation—until she heard the thunderous sound of approaching footsteps.
Behind her, the servants stormed in noisily like a herd of buffalo crossing a river.
“Where’s Madi?!”
“Pwahaha! Brother’s eyes are bloodshot from losing money!”
“Why is she so good at poker?!”
“It’s ‘cause you have bad luck, bro.”
“No way! Madi’s a swindler!”
“So what if she is?! Swindlers can be duchesses too!”
“A duchess can be a swindler!”
“Madi can be a duchess too!”
Even the servants, reeking of alcohol and madness, seemed to be drunk out of their minds.
Shalome stood at the front door, looking like she was about to cry.
Only the elderly head butler standing before the young lady of Bartolose looked remotely sane.
Shalome stomped over without hesitation and slapped him across the face.
“How dare you treat me this way! Is there no one in this house who works properly?!”
The butler didn’t flinch, simply bowing deeply.
“My apologies, Lady Bartolose. We held a small party last night, and the servants have gravely disrespected you. Please forgive us with your generous heart.”
“Does this grand duke’s household not understand the basic etiquette of receiving guests?! Take me to my room immediately! I’ve come by the emperor’s orders!”
“But Lady Bartolose, His Grace told you to return home. I cannot disobey the master’s—”
“So you’re saying it’s fine to ignore His Majesty’s orders? How rude and foolish.”
“…Lady Bartolose, if I may humbly offer advice—perhaps you could stay elsewhere for the time being and return on the day of the ball? His Majesty only ordered that you attend the ball with His Grace, so…”
Before the butler could finish, Shalome slapped him again.
His glasses flew to the corner of the hall.
Shalome, trembling with fury, raised her hand once more. The butler, Philip, closed his eyes as if expecting it.
Just then, someone grabbed Shalome’s wrist.
“Whoa now, my lady! This grandpa has a granddaughter your age!”
It was Madi.
Madi stood protectively in front of Philip and yanked off his white glove.
Then she hurled it straight at Shalome’s face.
“I challenge you to a duel.”
“What?!”
Shalome sputtered, then glared at Madi with icy eyes.
A commoner? Daring to challenge a noble? A daughter of the mighty Bartolose family?
But Madi couldn’t care less.
She swiftly snatched Philip’s other glove and threw it at Shalome.
“I challenge you to a duel.”
Madi gripped Shalome’s wrist so tightly it hurt.
“Ow! Let go!”
Shalome struggled to free herself, but she couldn’t budge.
Just then, one of Shalome’s maids stepped forward to strike Madi—but Madi kicked her in the shin.
“Augh!”
As the maid fell, she accidentally yanked on Shalome’s dress.
The fabric ripped with a loud tearing sound.
Shalome staggered, unable to fall properly due to Madi’s grip.
In a flash, Madi stole another glove from a nearby maid and threw it at Shalome.
“Duel.”
“Stop it!”
“Duel.”
Still smiling, Madi dragged Shalome along and kicked over her luggage.
As gloves and clothes spilled out, she picked them up one by one and threw them at Shalome’s face.
“Duel.”
“Stop! I said stop! Ow! Let go of my arm!”
“Duel.”
“It hurts! I said it hurts!”
At last, Shalome burst into tears.
“Why won’t you accept my duel?! I’m hurting too! Waaah!”
Madi also began crying, still clutching Shalome’s wrist tightly.
Servants and maids tried to intervene, but none succeeded.
Anyone who came close was knocked out cold with a single slap from Madi.
“Waaah! She won’t accept my duel! Waaaah!”
Madi sobbed uncontrollably, throwing glove after glove at Shalome’s face.
“Duel! Duel! Duel!”
She even dragged Shalome across the wide entrance like a mop.
“Ow! I said it hurts! Waaah!”
“Uncle Philip. Can women duel too?”
Philip, who had calmly retrieved his glasses and put them back on, replied expressionlessly,
“It’s rare, but not entirely unheard of.”
Upon hearing this, Madi threw herself on the floor and flailed her legs.
Shalome, still held by the wrist, flopped along helplessly like a rag doll.
“Then why won’t she accept my duel? Waaah! Is it ‘cause I’m not a noble? ‘Cause I’m not a lady? Waaah! Duel! Duel!”
“I accept! I accept! Just let go already!”
As soon as Shalome spoke, Madi let go of her like a puppet with its strings cut.
Shalome stood up shakily, a mess of tears and disheveled clothing.
Her wrist was bright red—it would surely bruise.
Instinctively, Shalome slapped Madi.
“You wicked wretch!”
“What are you doing?!”
Just then, Yulician returned.
“Your Grace!”
Shalome rolled up her red arm and whimpered.
Her carefully chosen outfit was ruined, and her belongings were scattered everywhere.
She’d never been so humiliated in her life.
She expected Yulician, a fellow noble, to take her side.
She was wrong.
Yulician rushed straight to Madi.
“Madi! Are you hurt?”
“Sniff… Madi is hurt.”
“…Where?”
“My heart. Madi’s heart got ouchies.”
“Why?”
“The lady didn’t accept my duel, and she hit Uncle Philip, so Madi’s heart is ouchie.”
It was an absurd farce.
Shalome felt like she was going to pass out from the stress.
“Your Grace! This woman is insane! She dragged me by the arm and beat my servants!”
“So you slapped my butler—who is like family—and my one and only lover?”
“But she told me to leave and stay somewhere else, and she attacked me with nonsense—!”
“So what’s the problem?”
Yulician’s icy blue eyes gleamed with menace.
“I said I wouldn’t let you stay, and my butler merely obeyed my wishes. And you struck the person I love—ignoring my will.”
“B-But Your Grace! Are you seriously considering making this uneducated tramp your consort?! I came here under the emperor’s orders—!”
“Leave. I won’t say it again.”
He didn’t even glance at her as he spoke.
“Someone, escort Lady Bartolose out.”
“Yes, Your Grace!”
“Your Grace! Your Grace, wait! What about His Majesty’s order?! What about my father?!”
Yulician, gently cradling Madi’s cheek, chuckled and turned to look at Shalome.
“Have you forgotten I’m a Grand Duke? If you want to attend the ball so badly, you can wait in front of the palace the night of the event. Whether I show up or not… is my decision.”
Tears welled up in Shalome’s red eyes.
“Uung, darling. Just a sec.”
Madi pushed aside Yulician’s hand and stood in front of the trembling Shalome.
“My lady. You accepted my duel, remember?”
“What?”
“It’s legally binding.”
Madi swiftly slapped Shalome across the face with her right hand.
Nobody noticed that she switched to a fist at the last second.
Shalome collapsed to the floor.
“Oops! She’s perfect for moving now!”
Madi beamed and bounced happily.
