Chapter 17
The rolling wheels came to a halt.
“Please, step down.”
Duke Western, who got off the carriage first, reached out his hand and looked at Maia.
Her situation was undoubtedly the hottest topic inside the banquet hall.
Maia reluctantly took the Duke’s hand.
As was customary for nobles of high rank, they arrived fashionably late to the banquet.
So at least for the short walk toward the palace, they were spared from uncomfortable stares—
“The Duke and Duchess of Western have arrived!”
—but that brief reprieve ended there.
The steward’s loud voice announced their arrival to the entire hall.
Immediately, countless eyes clung to them.
Maia kept a blank expression as she matched her steps with the Duke’s.
Every noble in the hall looked like they were dying to rush over and speak, their eyes brimming with curiosity.
But no one dared approach the high and mighty Duke and Duchess of Western without permission.
“Well, who do we have here? If it isn’t Duke Lucas Western.”
Only one man stood above the duke in status and was therefore exempt from such unspoken rules.
“Why so late? I nearly grew a beard waiting for you.”
It was Archduke Adelstein, the emperor’s second son, who greeted them cheerfully with a bold grin.
“My apologies, Your Highness,”
the duke answered politely.
The Archduke’s face, beaming with smiles until that moment, subtly hardened when he looked at Maia.
But he swiftly concealed his reaction and spoke with practiced ease.
“The Duchess of Western is as stunning as ever. You’re like a goddess sculpted from ice.”
“Your praise is too generous, Your Highness,”
Maia replied coldly, making no attempt to hide her chill.
He was the brother of the deceased imperial princess. Even if he said sweet words on the surface, it was obvious he harbored no fondness toward her.
“Haha, well then, Duke, there are many waiting to speak with you. Let’s go.”
“…Please excuse me for a moment. Wait here.”
The Archduke let out another awkward laugh and whisked the duke away.
As always, Duke Western didn’t resist.
They disappeared into a cheerful crowd of nobles.
Once again, she was left behind.
Maia sighed softly.
Left standing alone, she took a wine glass from a passing servant.
Perhaps to suit the noble’s picky tastes, the wine was less tart and so sweet it almost stung the tongue as it slid down her throat, burning its way to her stomach.
It wasn’t just the imperial banquet—this always happened at noble gatherings.
‘Duke Western! Come on, let’s go!’
‘…Alright. Wait here, Maia.’
Always, the Archduke would rush over like an excited puppy and drag the duke away with him.
“…So much for getting along better again.”
Nothing had changed, after all.
Why? Did you actually believe those words?
How foolish.
She tried to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside her and swallowed the wine, sweet but leaving a bitter aftertaste.
“Oh my, look over there. The Duchess of Western is alone again today.”
But the flies buzzing around her had no intention of missing such juicy entertainment.
Maia frowned.
“What’s that on her head? It’s clear the incident at the trial was staged. She must’ve known the Duke had no feelings for her, yet she dragged the emperor into it to avoid a divorce.”
Baroness Banora.
“Goodness, how shameless can she be! His Majesty couldn’t openly order a divorce in public, so he must have used vague wording instead.”
Baroness Bilkias.
“How cunning she is. Now she’s made it impossible to be divorced from the Duke. Grew up among merchants, didn’t she? No wonder she’s clever. So admirable.”
Women of such low status they wouldn’t even dare speak to Maia under normal circumstances were gossiping freely as if they owned the place.
Have they gone mad? No, considering my position now, it’s no surprise they look down on me.
Maia let out a bitter laugh.
Hearing their nasty whispers spoken loudly enough to be overheard made her want to slap their mouths shut.
But causing a scene wouldn’t change anything.
It would only further drag her already ruined reputation deeper into the dirt.
She decided to just leave.
Handing her glass to a passing servant, she walked toward the deserted terrace.
“Where are you going, Duchess of Western?”
That’s when an unwelcome voice stopped her.
Maia frowned slightly and turned around.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Bright blue eyes curved in a sharp crescent.
Blocking her path was none other than the host of the evening banquet—the Crown Princess.
“I hereby grant permission for the union between Duke Lucas de Agnolis of the Western Duchy and Maia Hansberk, daughter of Lavina Hansberk, head of the Mayus Merchant Guild.”
As soon as the Emperor’s solemn approval rang out, the Empress turned to him with an expression as cold as blades, and the Archduke let out a squawk.
“Father, what are you saying?! The Hansberk girl is no noble!”
The Emperor’s quiet red gaze silently slid over his hasty second son.
Meeting his father’s eyes made the Archduke shrink involuntarily.
The Emperor quietly curved his lips into a chilling smile.
“I gave my permission. I didn’t give you permission to object.”
Then he asked in a low voice,
“Are you challenging my authority, you foolish son?”
The Archduke shook his head furiously.
Though he was a grand noble of the Empire, his behavior was that of a frightened child—and no one in the room seemed the least bit surprised.
Maia, standing beside the Duke, felt a chill at the strange sight and clung tightly to his arm.
Just then, a young woman standing in the shadows cast her eyes toward Maia.
Maia turned instinctively.
Their eyes met briefly—but the woman’s unusually pale blue gaze sparked a strange discomfort deep in Maia’s chest.
“It’s been a while, Your Highness. I hope you’ve been well.”
Since the day Maia received the Emperor’s permission to marry the Duke, the Crown Princess had shown her no interest.
Her sudden approach now felt strange, but Maia offered a polite greeting.
The Crown Princess smiled faintly and spoke.
“That veil is beautiful. I heard it was a gift from His Majesty.”
The abrupt change in topic was confusing, but Maia quickly confirmed it.
“His Majesty is eagerly waiting for his grandniece-in-law to bear a child. He hopes more for your child than for a direct grandchild.”
The Crown Princess placed a hand on her still-flat belly.
Another shift in topic—Maia was beginning to feel deeply uncomfortable.
What was she trying to say?
Whether it was the wine she drank earlier or something else, heat stirred inside her, pushing her toward confrontation.
“Your Highness, is there something you wish to say to me?”
Maia asked bluntly.
The Crown Princess’s eyes widened.
Then Maia saw it—faint contempt flashing in those pale blue irises.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I must’ve bored you.”
The flicker was gone in an instant, replaced by a misty smile.
“I didn’t mean anything by it. I just wanted to say that I hope you too can experience the joy of having a child soon. His Majesty will be delighted. Even if he doesn’t show it, he cares deeply for you.”
Whatever twisted reasons she had, Maia didn’t care anymore.
“Our marriage is our own concern. But I thank you for your kind concern.”
She wanted to get out of this suffocating hall as quickly as possible.
“…Very well. Then, I’ll take my leave.”
The Crown Princess studied her forced smile for a moment before walking away.
Her faint blonde hair flowed down her back like dry straw.
Maia watched her retreating figure for a while, then muttered bitterly,
“What a piece of work.”
I’m sick of this.
Maia gritted her teeth and shoved open the glass door leading to the terrace.
A cool, damp night breeze brushed away the heat from her face.
It looked like it might rain.
She stared blankly up at the starry sky.
Suddenly, she wanted to throw everything away and run.
Forget the emperor, forget his commands, forget the duke, forget high society.
Just… go away with her mother and family.
“I’ll play the role of the lover. Just divorce him.”
And then, a face came to mind, uninvited.
“…What the hell.”
Maia frowned and ran a hand through her hair.
Of all memories, she’d just recalled him. And that day.
She stared into the empty air for a long while, then reached into the pouch at her waist.
“…Why did I even bring this?”
She pulled out a small owl figurine, just big enough to fit in one hand.
She couldn’t understand why she’d insisted on bringing it all the way to the banquet—but as she gazed into the gleaming golden eyes of the figure, the storm inside her began to calm.
And the memory of when she first encountered this figurine began to return, vivid and unstoppable.
