Duke Bovary shot up from his seat in a fury.
“What the hell is this supposed to be?”
“These are all women who had affairs with the defendant, a married man. They’ve deeply wounded the plaintiff, who was trying to hold the family together.”
“Hah. She’s the one filing for divorce and tearing this family apart!”
I met the still-defiant Duke with a triumphant smile.
“Is that really so? I submit as evidence a letter sent by Miss Stephanie, the defendant’s current partner. I shall read aloud its contents now.”
Madam,
You must’ve truly lost your mind, blinded by jealousy.I confirmed everything with the Duke—he said every single word you wrote was a complete lie!
First, to Miss Rosalyn, His Grace only gifted a three-carat diamond ring and three dresses.
Second, to Miss Lillian, he merely provided five months of living expenses, and gifted her a boat—not a yacht.
Third… Fourth… (omitted)
And tenth, the country villa he gave to Miss Patricia—he’s taking it back and promised it to me instead.
The Duke said he doesn’t love you in the slightest. He only called you a cranky old hag.
You may claim you wanted to preserve your family, but the Duke told me he has no intention of continuing the marriage. Of course, he also said he plans to buy me even more gifts than he gave those ten other women.
I’ve attached The Duke’s signed statement guaranteeing that everything written here is true.
—Stephanie Bovary
The courtroom erupted at the scandalous contents of the letter. The audience, unable to believe what they were hearing, began criticizing the Duke’s immoral private life.
“My god… how could a mistress send such a letter to the Duchess!”
“Calling herself Stephanie Bovary? What nerve!”
“Everyone knew Duke Bovary was a womanizer, but this is shameless beyond belief…!”
I smiled as I looked down at the letter I’d cherished until now.
Stephanie had been bold and prideful enough to send a letter like that directly to the Duchess in a cake shop. And she’d managed to humiliate the Duchess just as she intended, manipulating the Duke to do her bidding. Naturally, the Duke had indulged her every whim to maintain the relationship with his much younger lover.
So when I had the Duchess write an exaggerated letter to provoke Stephanie—highlighting all the gifts the Duke had given to his past lovers—I was confident she’d retaliate.
As expected, Stephanie lashed out in a jealous rage, listing every gift she received and even revealing what the other women had gotten, all to prove she was the one the Duke truly cherished.
I held the letter up toward the Duke.
“The defendant even wrote a statement confirming the accuracy of this letter, didn’t you?”
“Th-That was…!”
“How could the plaintiff, as the Duke’s lawful wife, sit still after being publicly humiliated by some mistress? Especially when it was the defendant who mocked her letter regarding protecting her family and declared he had no desire to continue the marriage.”
The Duke’s lawyer, now pale as a sheet, sank into his seat in utter defeat. The judge, stunned by the vivid evidence of infidelity, could only stammer as he finally managed to speak.
“Ahem. Filing charges against eleven individuals at once is… unusual. But… I will allow it.”
“Oh, actually, there’s one more person we intend to file against.”
“Y-You mean you’re filing criminal charges now…?”
The judge glanced at me with a pleading look, silently begging me to stop. It was clear the thought of dealing with twelve lawsuits all at once was making him dizzy. But I ignored him.
“We intend to hold Duke Bovary accountable for his crimes.”
“What nonsense is this?! Since when is love a crime?!”
Now flushed bright red, Duke Bovary jabbed a finger at me and shouted. I stared him down coldly.
“All of the gifts mentioned in this letter were bought using the House Bovary’s assets, weren’t they? And you did so without the consent of Duchess Bovary, who is a joint manager of those funds. That makes it embezzlement.”
“Hah! That money’s mine too! And don’t you know? Spouses can’t be charged with embezzling from each other!”
“True, under normal circumstances. But this is different—as it involves assets of the merchant guild.”
The Duke froze, eyes wide, staring dumbly in my direction. I continued smoothly.
“All of the Duchy’s assets are currently managed under the guild’s name, per the agreement made when the Duke and Duchess married.”
The reason the Duchess couldn’t get a divorce for twenty years was the very same reason that is now working against the Duke: the marriage had bound them into a joint business venture.
“House Bovary’s assets are not technically the couple’s private property. They’re the merchant guild’s. So if you spent that money without the Duchess/Co-manager’s approval, that’s embezzlement.”
The Duke, clearly rattled now, began sputtering in desperation.
“Sh-She spent guild money too! She bought jewels, dresses, threw parties—all using House Bovary’s funds!”
“Didn’t you willingly grant Duchess Bovary permission for all those expenses? As a generous husband? I’m quite sure I heard you say so just a moment ago.”
“T-That’s…!”
“I would like to argue that the assets the defendant illegally squandered should be factored into the property division.”
The Duke was left speechless, jaw slack. The tide had already turned in our favor. Reporters in the gallery were frantically scribbling notes, some even dashing out for a scoop.
I turned to a dumbfounded Duke Bovary one last time and gave him a sweet, victorious smile.
“Love may not be a crime, Duke Bovary, but embezzlement certainly is.”
At last, a perfect victory.
* * *
[Breaking News]
Duke Bovary Arrested for Embezzlement.
Duke Bovary Loses Over 70% of His Assets.
Duke Bovary had been punished, and the court acknowledged that he’d squandered their shared assets on his mistress. This heavily disadvantaged him in the asset division ruling.
And I finally secured an invitation to the summer ball and proudly returned to the Grand Ducal Residence. It had only been a few weeks since I’d left the capital to attend the trial. Duchess Bovary—rather, now Claire Zakarias once more—was so moved that she insisted on personally preparing everything for the ball.
Having wrapped up all affairs without a hitch, I dashed off proudly to the Grand Duke’s office.
“Your Grace, everything’s ready for the ball! See? I told you I’d make it happen… right?”
But for some reason, the Grand Duke was nowhere to be seen. I blinked at the empty office.
“Madam Verona, where’s His Grace?”
“Well… he’s, uh, stepped out for a bit.”
“Where to? And since when?”
I frowned at that. While staying at Duke Bovary’s residence, I’d sent a few letters updating him on my situation. But not once had I received a reply from the Grand Duke. I’d chalked it up to the Grand Duke’s usual cold professionalism.
Could it be that he’d been gone this whole time, too?
“I-I’m not sure… I don’t really know…”
Madam Verona looked unusually uneasy. Sensing something was off, I raised an eyebrow.
“The summer ball is just around the corner… Don’t tell me he’s planning to skip it?”
“N-no! His Highness said he’d definitely be back before the ball!”
She was clearly hiding something. But before I could press her further, Madam Verona fled, using dinner preparations as an excuse.
Later that night, when everyone else was fast asleep.
Thud, thud. The soft footsteps echoing down the hallway made my eyes snap open.
‘The Grand Duke is back.’
I instinctively knew the sound belonged to the Grand Duke. Moving quietly, I slipped out of my room. A tall shadow stretched across the dim corridor. Silently, I crept toward it. Eventually, I reached the figure standing before the Grand Duke’s door.
“Out late tonight, aren’t we?”
“……!”
Startled, he turned—and as expected, it was the Grand Duke. He froze mid-motion, hand still on the doorknob, and looked in my direction. His face was cloaked in shadow. I took a step closer and spoke again.
“You’re quite late.”
“…Had some business.”
He hesitated, then took a step back. I narrowed my eyes.
“What kind of business?”
Earlier today, suspicious of Madam Verona’s oddly tight-lipped behavior, I’d checked the Grand Duke’s work schedule.
If my math was right, he’d been gone for two weeks.
“I heard you just got back from the capital. Looks like you succeeded once again.”
Anyone could tell he was trying to change the subject. Not letting him escape, I strode toward him in quick, long steps.
As he flinched and twisted away, the moonlight spilled across the Grand Duke’s face, revealing him fully.
His hair was a tangled mess. His face, a total wreck. I’d never seen him in such disarray.
“What in the world have you been—!”
I stopped short.
There was the sharp, metallic stench of blood clinging to him.
No way…?
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