ILTDAMH | CHAPTER 25

"The Madam Should Be All the More Aware."

Posted by Marinette, Released on August 12, 2025

Chapter 25

“The Madam Should Be All the More Aware.”

“That’s right. Her Majesty the Empress knew as well. And so did Duke Kymon Graft.”

“And?”

“Well, the Crown Prince thinks he’s doing all this on his own… But in truth, the Empress has been secretly disposing of the women’s corpses for him. She buried them on the lands belonging to her family’s estate.”

“My goodness… So Her Majesty and the Duke have been covering for the Crown Prince?”

“Exactly. Which is why I’m thinking… maybe we should stir up a little trouble.”

“Trouble?”

At Cassel’s words, Ruan leaned in and whispered in his ear.

“I understand, my lord. I’ll see to it.”

Cassel gave a polite bow and left the study.

.

“Wow, this place is huge!”

Charles burst out as he stepped into the shop, his eyes darting over the plates and tableware on display.

“Charles, keep it down,” Clea chided.

He nodded quickly, lowering his voice.

“May I have a look around, madam?”

“Go ahead—just be careful.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Mercian had come to purchase plates and dishes for the upcoming home party, and she took her time, surveying the unexpectedly large store.

“Madam, I think these plates look quite nice,” Clea said.

Mercian nodded, glancing around—only for the shop owner to approach Clea.

“Why, if it isn’t the head maid of the Duke’s household!”

“It’s been a while. I’m here to look at some tableware for the party the Dukes’ house is hosting.”

Clea was about to introduce Mercian when the shopkeeper cast her a sympathetic look and said,
“As it happens, we’ve just received some excellent pieces. But… it must be tough for you these days, what with the duchess being so hard on the staff.”

“What nonsense is that about my lady being hard on us?”

Clea asked, glancing warily at Mercian.

The shopkeeper looked at her with knowing eyes.

“Oh, come now, don’t pretend you don’t know. I just heard it from the duchess’s elder sister, the Baron’s daughter. Why, she said that during a tea gathering, the duchess put defensive magic on every single door—just in case her sister and mother might steal something! The poor young lady mistook one of the doors for the lavatory, opened it, and collapsed in the ward for over two hours—nearly died, she did. The Baroness told the Duchess that no matter how poor they might be, they would never lay hands on another’s belongings. But the Duchess, they say, sneered that their clothes were so shabby she was ashamed to be seen with them and had them thrown out of the house, declaring she never wanted to see them again. If that’s how she treats her kin, just imagine how she treats her servants!”

Baron’s daughter?

Could Lucy be here right now?

Mercian’s brow furrowed at the thought, but before she could speak, Clea snapped at the shopkeeper.

“What an absurd thing to say. And who, exactly, is spreading these lies?”

Unaware that Mercean was the Duchess herself, the shopkeeper blinked at Clea’s sudden anger and answered matter-of-factly:

“The Baron’s daughter is upstairs now, in one of the second-floor rooms. She came to buy dishes for her party this year and is having tea with some other noble ladies. I overheard her asking after the Duchess. She was so distraught over the incident that she was bedridden for over two weeks. Poor thing—her face has gone so gaunt it’s heartbreaking. Oh—oh! Madam, you can’t just go up there! W-wait a moment!”

.

“My word, how could something like that happen? Though… well, I suppose I shouldn’t say this to the Baron’s daughter herself, but… truthfully, even by appearances, she always struck me as greedy. When the Baron’s family was struggling, the Baroness and the young lady wasted away to skin and bones, but the Duchess alone grew plump. I used to think it was such a pity. You two must have been so generous, giving her your share of food.”

Countess Susan Theor looked at Lucy with pity.

Lucy lowered her gaze, wearing a pained expression.

“No, Countess. After our father passed, the Baron’s household fell on hard times. I regret not being able to give my younger sister more. But no matter how I tried to speak to her about her appearance, she wouldn’t listen. And how could I stop a girl who loved eating from doing so? She ate all day and never moved about, so of course she didn’t lose weight. She would often complain to our mother about the lack of food. But it’s fine now. She’s a wealthy Duchess—she can eat to her heart’s content.”

“How appalling… And from what I’ve heard, the Duke’s household gave her quite a substantial dowry. Surely that improved her circumstances?”

Susan’s gaze fell on Lucy’s gown, fine in cut but worn with age.

Lucy sighed softly as she looked down at her dress.

“The dowry is, of course, Mer’s by right—how could anyone dare to touch it? The Duke’s house was supposed to give us gold coins every month, but after that tea gathering, when she mistook us for thieves, the gold coins were…”

“My goodness—are you saying she gave you nothing at all? That’s outrageous! How could she?”

Seeing Susan’s shocked expression, Luciane was cheering inwardly.

Once the Crown Prince failed to find any evidence, he had severed ties with her that very same day—just as Mercian predicted.

No matter how many times she went to see him, she couldn’t even get a glimpse of his face.

It took over a month before she could finally let go.

All that resentment had turned on Mercian for refusing to give her proof.

To drag down Mercian’s reputation, Luciane had deliberately taken an old dress Mercian once wore in the Baron’s household, altered it, and worn it out in public.

While shopping for tableware for a home party, Luciane had chanced upon Countess Susan Theor, who was friendly with Penelope.

She had whisked the Countess upstairs for tea and immediately begun weaving tales about Mercian.

Susan, who was fond of gossip even on an ordinary day, quickly leaned in, listening with rapt attention.

Soon she was adding her barbs, the two of them volleying spite back and forth.

Mer, do you know what’s so funny about rumours?

They have nothing to do with the truth.

People only hear what they want to hear and say what they want to say.

And now you humiliate me—over a Duke who has less than four months to live?

The whole mess with His Highness the Crown Prince was entirely your fault.

So now you’ll see.

You’ll see what it’s like when the entire Empire turns on you.

As Susan grew visibly worked up, Luciane hid a smile and replied sweetly, “Oh dear, I fear I’ve gone on with such unnecessary talk. Please, I beg you, forget everything I’ve just said—just think of it as venting. As long as my sister is happy, I don’t care what happens to me. And besides, in four months she’ll have to leave the Duke’s household. When that time comes, she’ll need money to survive.”

“You’re both far too kind…”

“Is what the young lady says true?”

The question came from an elderly lady who had been sitting quietly on a sofa since they arrived, listening without a word.

Now, for the first time, she fixed her gaze on Luciane.

“Of course it’s true,” Luciane replied smoothly. “But I would never blame my sister. Please, just forget we ever discussed this.”

Susan’s expression hardened.

“No, this sort of thing must be known. Don’t you agree, madam? You of all people should know.”

Madam? Who…?

Her face was familiar—had Luciane seen her before?

Just then, recognition flickered.

Wait… that woman…

At Susan’s words, Olivia set down her teacup, meeting Luciane’s stare with a voice as cold as frost.

“That’s right. Since this concerns my niece, I most certainly should know. But tell me, Baron’s daughter—if what you say is true, I will confirm it with Mer myself. And since you claim your family’s circumstances are poor, I’ll even advise her to share some funds with the Baron’s household out of decency.

“But if it’s a lie… how exactly do you intend to repay the damage you’ve done to my niece-in-law’s honour? Surely, before spewing baseless slander about the Duchess of Canoluf, you’ve at least prepared to stake your life on it?

“And another thing, Susan—what was it you just said about my niece-in-law’s figure? From where I’m sitting, she’s healthy, lovely, and beautiful. What, precisely, is the problem supposed to be?”

At first, Olivia had simply thought Mercian’s healthy frame was refreshing compared to the other fragile, reed-like young ladies.

After watching Ruan waste away a little more each day under the grip of his illness, she found Mercian’s vitality comforting.

She had thought she wouldn’t grow attached—after all, the girl would be the duke’s wife for only six months.

But then… Mercian would return from a trip into town with cakes or sweets, saying she thought Olivia might enjoy them.

Once a week, without fail, she would come to sit with Olivia for an hour or two over tea.

At first, Olivia had thought it a passing courtesy, but Mercian never missed a week for over two months.

And the stories she heard from the Duke’s servants matched what she saw: even in Ruan’s absence, Mercian was kind to the staff and never squandered the family’s wealth.

Now, two months on, Olivia found herself thinking Mercian was prettier and dearer than Ruan himself.

In truth, she had not told Ruan, but she was already considering making Mercian her daughter if the girl wished to leave the Duke’s house after Ruan’s death.

Compared to the pale, brittle young ladies who looked ready to snap in a strong wind, Mercian —with her warm smile and her refusal to treat people carelessly—was worth a hundred of them in Olivia’s eyes.

A month ago, after hearing about the tea party incident from Clea, Olivia had already been itching for an excuse to put the Viscount’s household in their place…

And now, when she heard they were going out to buy dishes and tableware to prepare a home party—perhaps the last one for Ruan—she decided to intercept them.

Her plan had been simple: meet with Mercian, browse the shops together, and if something caught her eye, give it to her.

That was why Olivia had arrived early, seated in a private room, sipping tea as she waited for Mercian to arrive.

But instead, the door opened… and in walked not Mercian, but her so-called elder sister, dragging along none other than Countess Susan Theore—whom Olivia had never liked—and the two of them immediately began badmouthing Mercian.

Even if they’d stuck to the facts,

Olivia would not have let it slide.

But this?

Who would dare steal a dowry?

And what was that other nonsense—claiming they had deprived Mercian of food so much that she’d grown fat?

Ha! Do these women have any idea how much they and their precious household have already taken from Mercian?

And yet, they dare try to tarnish her reputation with such ridiculous lies…

After the tea party incident, Olivia had already conducted her quiet investigation into the Viscount’s family.

So as Luciane spun her web of lies with a perfectly straight face, Olivia had to resist the urge to fling her teacup into that smug expression.

She simply watched, curious to see just how far the girl would go.

Yes, she remembered.

She had seen this one at the wedding reception.