ILTDAMH | CHAPTER 26

Chapter 26

“I’m an old woman who tends to hold grudges,” Olivia said evenly.

“So if I act a little petty, I trust you’ll understand.”

Luciane, realizing at last who Olivia truly was, could do nothing but gape and collapse onto her seat, utterly speechless.

“My lady, what’s wrong all of a sudden?” 

Susan interjected, her tone falsely soothing.

“Don’t worry—now that Lady Canoluf knows, the Duchess won’t be able to torment the Viscount’s family anymore.”

“Torment?” Olivia’s voice was calm but cold enough to frost the air. “And who, exactly, is tormenting whom? My lady, if you tell the truth now, I might be inclined to show you a little mercy. But if you persist in lies… You had better think very carefully.”

“D–Duchess, I… that is, I…”

“My lady, why are you trembling so much?”

Susan turned back to Olivia.

“You heard it yourself just now, Lady Canoluf—the Duchess…”

The door clicked open.

“Indeed,” came a familiar voice. “I, too, am curious why my perfectly innocent sister is shaking like a leaf.”

Mercian stood in the doorway, her expression cool, her gaze level.

“It’s been a long time, sister. Not since you stormed out of that tea party, if I recall. And Countess—it has been just as long since I saw you. The wedding, wasn’t it?”

You—what are you doing here?!

“M–Mers… Why are you—?” Luciane’s face faltered; she could not hide her shock.

Susan, too, stared blankly for a heartbeat, blindsided by this unexpected appearance.

“Well, Duchess,” Susan recovered enough to speak, “since you’re here, I suppose I must say this: no matter your rank, it isn’t right to neglect the parents and siblings who brought you into the world.”

“Neglect?” Mercian’s eyes were sharp.

“Countess, in what way have I neglected my mother and sister? They took every item that came with me as a dowry, they took my dowry money itself, and each month they take a hundred gold coins from the ducal estate. Oh, and at my wedding—when we went to commission my gown—my sister had twenty dresses made for herself. And yet today, she stands here in a gown altered from one of mine. Where, I wonder, did those twenty dresses go?”

What…? Why is the Duchess speaking so boldly? Could it be… the Viscount’s daughter lied to me?

“Is this true?” Susan turned sharply to Lucianne. “Tell me, is what the Duchess says the truth?”

“I… Countess… It’s all my fault,” Luciane stammered, eyes darting toward Mercian. “Mers, I’m so sorry. I promised I wouldn’t speak ill of you outside, but I was just… upset. I didn’t mean to. Please forgive me. And don’t worry—I don’t resent you for giving us nothing of your dowry. As for the monthly gold from the ducal estate, we only use enough for living expenses, and I’ve saved the rest. In four months, when you return to the Viscount’s house, I’ll give it all back to you. So… please… don’t be so angry.”

She bowed her head in pitiful submission, and Susan—ever the actress—wrapped her arm around the girl as though to shield her.

“Duchess,” Susan said with a sigh, “a dowry is, by tradition, for the bride’s family to use. And to keep such strict accounts between kin… is that not a bit much? Lady Canoluf, now that you know your niece-in-law’s true temperament, I trust you’ll guide her wisely. Otherwise, this could tarnish the Duke’s reputation.”

Olivia’s gaze cut to Luciane, full of contempt.

“Susan. You still don’t grasp the situation, do you?”

“…Pardon?”

“What do you take me for? Someone who cannot tell right from wrong? And tell me—do you truly believe this young lady spends ‘only enough for living expenses’? Does it make sense for someone so destitute to come here, to this shop, to buy tableware? The cheapest dishes here cost more than what common nobles could ever afford; the most expensive rival the price of fine gowns. Do you honestly believe she is here for plates when she has no money?”

Olivia’s words landed like cold iron. 

Susan, sharp enough to finally sense the shifting tide, turned on Luciane with wide-eyed disbelief.

“Good heavens… Viscount’s daughter, are you telling me everything you’ve said to me until now has been a lie? I never would have thought it of you… How disappointing. Duchess, I truly apologize. I misjudged you because I listened to her words. I beg your pardon. I trust you’ll grant me the grace to forgive.”

Grace? Olivia thought bitterly.

So now she claims she’s done nothing wrong? 

She was quick enough to side with Luci and speak ill of me without knowing a thing—and now she wants me to pardon her simply because she ‘didn’t know’?

“No, Countess,” Olivia said coolly. “Do not apologize.”

“…What?”

“I didn’t want to hear it, but I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation outside, Countess,” Mercian said evenly. “Yes, Luci was wrong to speak ill of me—but you, madam, were just as wrong to take her words at face value and join in without bothering to see if they were true. You say you didn’t know, but I have no interest in hollow apologies that come from the mouth, not the heart. So don’t apologize to me.”

Susan bristled at Mercian’s refusal.

“Now really, no matter the circumstances, I am trying to apologize—”

“I agree with Mercian,” Olivia cut in coldly. “It’s time for you to go, Susan. And be careful not to say anything else you might regret. I might not be so patient next time.”

“How unpleasant,” Susan muttered. She turned sharply to Luciane. “Viscount’s daughter—never again go about telling such lies. And as for you, Duchess—when a person offers a sincere apology, how can you so brazenly reject it to their face? I have no desire to endure such an insult again. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

She cast one last, quiet glare at both Mercian and Luciane, then lifted her chin in haughty dismissal and swept out of the room.

“I didn’t know you were here, Aunt,” Mercian said, watching her go.

Olivia’s gaze softened as she looked away from Luciane’s scowling face and toward Mercian.

“Clea said she was coming to look at tableware today, so I thought I might buy a set for you as a gift. I arrived a bit early and thought I’d have some tea—and instead, I ended up fouling my ears with filth.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What for? You haven’t done a single thing wrong. Isn’t that so, Viscount’s daughter?”

Luciane flinched at Olivia’s gentle yet icy voice.

“M–my lady, I… that is to say…”

“Well, I’m an old woman who holds grudges,” Olivia said lightly, though her smile was edged with steel. “So if I act a little petty, I trust you’ll understand. I can’t erase everything you’ve said today, after all. Mers, you might get a bit of a reputation for being stingy—but don’t worry. No matter how badly people think of you, they won’t dare speak ill of you to your face.”

“…What?” Mercian blinked, not following her aunt’s meaning.

Olivia took her hand with a warm expression.

“I’m doing this because I care for you. I couldn’t possibly turn your sister into a liar, could I? Isn’t that so, Viscount’s daughter?”

“P–pardon? My lady, what do you mean by that?” Luciane stammered.

Olivia’s smile was sweet enough to curdle milk.

“You remember what you just told Susan, don’t you? Well then—since you said you’ve never touched a single coin of the dowry from our house, we’ll have you return it all to Mers, exactly as you claimed. And as for the hundred gold coins we send each month—after this month, we’ll stop. You told Susan you only use what’s needed for living expenses, so you must have quite a sum left over. Since we’ve already given you two months’ worth in advance, you can hand all of that over to the Countess. From next month onwards, you can live on that.”

“This way,” she added, her voice silk over steel, “even if Mers takes some criticism, at least your words today won’t be entirely lies. Isn’t that fortunate?”

What? She’s taking back the entire dowry? And cutting off the allowance?

No—no, I can’t go back to that miserable life. I can’t!

Shame forgotten, Luciane scrambled forward on hands and knees, clutching at Olivia’s skirts.

“M–my lady, that’s not what I meant at all! And the dowry—Mers said I could give it to our mother, didn’t you, Mers?”

Me? I never once told you or Mother you could take it.

In fact, before I even touched it, the two of you snatched it away—and now you’re twisting the truth?

Mercian stared at her sister in disbelief.

“Sister, have you forgotten? The trousseau, the dowry, the allowance—you and Mother took everything before it ever reached my hands. When did you ever ask what I wanted?”

“M–Mers… What about Mother? You can hate me if you want, but you wouldn’t wish for her to go on suffering, would you? You’re my sweet little sister, aren’t you? You wouldn’t—right?”

And now she’s bringing Mother into this?

How is it that, even now, you still haven’t once apologized to me?

Is it really so hard to say a single, genuine word of remorse?

Once… perhaps I might have forgiven you.

But not anymore.

The moment I left the viscount’s estate in that carriage on the day of that dreadful gathering, you and Mother ceased to have anything to do with me.

So don’t expect anything from me—ever again.

Mercian’s eyes turned cold as she looked at Luciane, who was still pressing her, even dragging Penelope into the fray.

“I’m sorry, Sister, but there’s nothing I can do for you. I told you before—I’ve formally cut ties with the Viscount’s household. I am no longer part of the Beano Viscount family. So don’t ask me for anything again.”

“You—are you really going to do this to me? Do you even know whose doing it was that you became a duchess? It was because I begged Mother to arrange your marriage proposal. Without me, do you think you could ever have dreamed of being the duchess of such a family? And now—rather than repay the debt, you’re trying to ruin my future and even take my money? You think I’m easy to push around just because I’ve held my tongue? Back at the Viscount’s house, you didn’t dare talk back to me even once… And now you dare!”

Luciane, unable to control her rage, snatched up the hot teapot from the table and hurled it straight at Mercian.

“Mer!”

At Olivia’s sharp cry, Mercian instinctively flinched and collapsed to the floor.

But… nothing happened.

There should have been burning pain, scalding water soaking into her skin—

Yet there was nothing.

Cautiously, she opened her eyes and lifted her head—and saw a familiar figure standing before her.

“Ru… Ruan? Why are you here?”

Still cloaked, his face shadowed, Ruan smiled brightly.

“My lady, I’m here. So there’s no need to worry.”

“Ruan, what are you doing here? Are you all right? You’re not hurt, are you?”

Startled by his sudden appearance, Mercian leapt to her feet and began checking him over. 

Ruan let out a soft chuckle.

“Well now, my lady, it seems I must return your own words from last time. Let’s take it one question at a time.”

First—why am I here? Her Grace invited me to stop by if I had time, since you would be here choosing dishes today. 

And really, knowing you were here—how could I possibly stay away?

Second—am I all right? 

As you can see, this cloak is thicker than it looks. 

A bit of hot water isn’t going to get through to me.

Ah, which also answers your third question—no, I’m not hurt.

Now then, my lady, why don’t you sit by Her Grace for a moment? 

I just have to deal with it a little… pest.”

“…What?”

Before Mercian could react, Ruan gently took her hand, seated her beside Olivia, and then turned back—his face now icy cold.