Episode 10
Standing before someone who still bore traces of youth, Frisia gave a bitter smile.
Kind-hearted Matthew seemed to hope this would somehow stop the marriage from happening, but cheap sympathy only made things more miserable at times.
Every day she had awakened in this place had been dull, but truly enjoyable.
Even in such a short time, they had become as precious as real family.
So this much—she could endure.
“I like you too. So Matthew, just for now, protect my family—for my sake.”
“Frisia, that’s not what I meant…”
“It’s okay. We can’t be sure how the Duke of Cromford will react.”
He might reject her outright, saying he didn’t want a bride burdened with a million galleons of debt. It had been a mistake not to recognize the hidden motive behind Marquess Gondre, who had always gone to such lengths to cozy up to her sister.
“Our Lily is still very young. She seems to rely on you quite a bit, so please take care of my little sister.”
“That’s exactly why this isn’t right. Do you think Rose will just stand by and watch?”
“This is my decision, Matthew Napier.”
Even if she usually let things slide, there were times when she had to clearly say no. And now was one of those times.
At her gentle but firm refusal, Matthew bit his lip over and over and clenched his fists.
“I—!”
“Let’s go.”
Leaving Matthew behind, the carriage began to move. The attendants of the Napier family held him back as he tried to follow.
The elderly servant, full of compassion, deliberately made clattering noises in the carriage—for the sake of the lady crying silently inside. So her sobs wouldn’t escape into the night.
The moon was heartbreakingly beautiful tonight, offering no comfort to her heavy heart.
Late that night, Jade read over the report with a bitter smile.
“You knew already, didn’t you?”
“I did. Rose DeBlanc’s business holds promise, but her parents are utterly worthless.”
Even with the help of Marquess Napier, the mess Count DeBlanc and his wife had created still cast a long shadow over the futures of their three daughters.
“Rose DeBlanc is unlucky. If she’d only had better parents, she wouldn’t be suffering such humiliation.”
The son of Marquess Gondre was known in society as the most foolish of fools. Unable to fend for himself, his father had been seeking not just a title for him, but a bride who would care for him for life. That’s when Rose had caught his eye.
“By now, Marquess Gondre would have made his move. If she’s clever, she’ll come to me.”
His words were far too cold for someone talking about a woman he wished to marry.
No one could understand why he acted like this.
“Didn’t you say you hated the marquess?”
“I despise him. That’s why I need to teach him a lesson. Until now, I just hadn’t had the chance.”
Though he’d taken down his own brothers to claim his current position, he wasn’t foolish enough to remove someone without just cause. Instead, he patiently cast his bait and watched things unfold.
“It’s because that man brought Rose DeBlanc into this that my own marriage became such a hot topic. Don’t you think that’s enough to justify a grudge?”
He didn’t start fights—but once provoked, he never backed down. Faced with such a straightforward philosophy, Jade had no argument.
“So, when do you think she’ll come?”
“If she’s the kind of person I expect, tonight. Tomorrow at the latest.”
“But no matter what, it’s a marriage matter—will her family just let her go like that?”
“She claims to be in love with me, remember?”
He didn’t know where that rumor had started, but he was willing to bet everything it was nonsense.
Watching his master act oblivious despite knowing everything, Jade couldn’t hide his unease.
If Gondre’s ploy succeeded, Rose DeBlanc’s business would be ruined—and with it, a solid investment opportunity would disappear.
But his master was not the kind of man to offer help unless the other person asked for it first.
“If she ends up refusing completely, should I start looking for another woman?”
“That would be troublesome. The drama is already too perfect. I can’t replace her now.”
“Your Grace, but—”
“Is your faith in me wavering, Jade?”
As the Duke declared his confidence, Jade knew he could say no more.
Yet watching his master calmly waiting as though expecting someone, Jade grew more anxious.
As he was preparing tea by the entrance, a servant came to him.
“Head steward, there’s a guest.”
“At this hour?”
The servant, already forewarned, whispered even more quietly.
“She says she is Lady DeBlanc.”
“Which DeBlanc?”
Even the quietest murmur couldn’t escape the Duke’s ears. From the study, his voice rang out, and the servant nervously swallowed before replying.
“She said her name is Frisia.”
Just as expected. The Duke calmly spoke:
“Prepare the finest reception for the future mistress of the house. I’ll be down shortly.”
Jade avoided the servant’s gaze asking, “What in the world is going on?” and instead looked out the window at the humble DeBlanc family carriage.
Now that the Duke had declared her the future mistress, not even the slightest disrespect would be allowed.
Let everything go perfectly.
Taking a deep breath, he straightened his steward’s ribbon.
“I am Ada, the head maid of the Cromford household.”
The elderly woman, despite the late hour, greeted the guest in a spotless maid’s uniform and impeccable manners.
There was no reason Frisia deserved such high-level treatment, but every maid under Ada’s command bowed with the grace reserved for royalty.
“Please give the coachman a warm drink.”
“As you wish. Lady DeBlanc, this way please.”
A stable hand in shabby clothes exchanged a confused glance as he was led away by the maids.
The drawing room, lit as if already prepared, overflowed with fresh flowers—a luxury only the wealthy could afford.
Frisia tried to calm her fluttering heart, but then a maid carrying tea stumbled and spilled it on her dress.
“I—I deserve to die!”
“We’ll prepare a change of clothes at once!”
“But…”
She had no time to worry about a wet hem. Telling them not to punish the maid, she allowed the head maid to escort her to the dressing room.
There, a gown the color of freesia—just like her name—waited.
It was a brilliant yellow that could easily look tacky but was somehow elegant in the fine fabric. Surprised, she cautiously asked,
“I heard the Duke doesn’t have any sisters.”
“It belonged to the late Duchess.”
The late Duchess’s gown? She felt even more like she was sitting on thorns.
Was it a coincidence, or had this been prepared in advance?
Remembering the genuinely flustered maid, she thought perhaps she was overthinking—but everything felt so deliberately staged.
With lingering suspicion, she returned to the drawing room. Thankfully, the Duke had not yet arrived.
“I’m Jade, head steward of the Cromford estate.”
“I’m sorry for coming at such a late hour. My coachman—”
“He’s been sent home with warm tea, a blanket, and a decent payment. Please don’t worry.”
At his knowing words, she found herself speechless.
Her hand trembled as she held the teacup. She had read about the Duke’s cruelty in print like it was someone else’s story.
“Is the tea not to your taste?”
“No, it’s delicious. The dress fits perfectly too.”
She had only spoken out of politeness, but the way everyone visibly relaxed showed how carefully they were watching her.
Just as she finished her tea, the Duke finally arrived.
“Your Grace.”
“A guest at this late hour. Everyone must be tired.”
At his soft comment, the steward quietly dismissed the attendants.
“We’ll excuse ourselves.”
That steward was clearly no ordinary man—he read his master’s moods with precision.
Still trembling, Frisia set down her cup and clutched the skirt of her freesia-colored gown.
“Is that a habit?”
“Pardon?”
“You seem to read me very well, even though we’ve only met once or twice.”
They had only spoken about twenty words total.
Yet somehow, he pinpointed her thoughts with uncanny precision.
“Coming at this hour, despite knowing it’s impolite…”
“You were the one who said I could come anytime.”
“That’s true. But few are bold enough to actually do it.”
“If you consider this rude, I’ll return tomorrow.”
The Duke didn’t like submissive people.
He would crush a groveling traitor’s wrist without hesitation—but spare the life of a loyal enemy.
She struggled to find some clue, desperately reaching through her memory. But for now, all she could do was gather what little pride she had left.
As she sincerely turned to leave, his voice stopped her.
“What happened to Rose DeBlanc is unfortunate.”
Hand on the doorknob, Frisia froze as the Duke asked, in an oddly amused tone:
“Didn’t you come here to ask me for a favor?”
True to his title as the greatest villain, he already knew everything.
