CHAPTER 51………………………………….
“Ugh, my head hurts.”
Sereret pressed her temples; her head was pounding.
She had already been in a meeting for an hour with the housekeeper, Mrs. Lindsay, trying to set a date for the party.
It was proving harder than expected to even pick a day for her first party since getting married.
Every date overlapped with some event or followed another noble family’s gathering, and after hearing nothing but obstacles, Sereret just wanted to say, Let’s do it today and get it over with.
“How about the 9th? It’s a bit tight, but still possible.”
At her suggestion, the butler shook his head.
“That’s the day the Salon Exhibition begins, my lady. It would be better to avoid it.”
“Then what if we push it to next month?”
Sereret, exhausted, wanted to postpone it altogether.
“That won’t do. It would be too late,” Mrs. Lindsay said firmly.
Sereret sighed and nodded. Though Mrs. Lindsay was always contradicting her, this time she was right.
It was an unspoken rule in high society that a newly married woman must host her first party within two months of marriage. Hosting that first event as the lady of the house was almost as important as her debut itself.
It was her first chance to show her capability as a hostess — a successful event reflected directly on the family’s prestige.
The three bent their heads together again to discuss dates.
“This one would be perfect,” Sereret murmured wistfully.
It was a day she had already ruled out because Yuan had an important meeting.
“His Grace will be busy that day…” the butler trailed off with a regretful tone.
Even Mrs. Lindsay, though silent, looked disappointed that the date was unavailable.
“I don’t know what’s on that day, but it can’t be that important.”
A familiar voice came from the doorway.
Sereret turned toward it — Yuan was leaning lazily against the doorframe, hands in his pockets.
“When did you get here?” she asked, eyes widening.
“When am I supposedly busy?” Yuan asked, striding toward the sofa.
“The seventeenth, Your Grace,” the butler replied.
Yuan sat down beside Sereret, frowning slightly.
“They said you had an important meeting that day.”
“It’s important to them, not to me. …Call Derek.”
He turned to the butler. “Bring my aide.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
The butler quickly left the tearoom.
A few minutes later, he returned with the aide. Yuan instructed him to postpone the meeting.
Without protest, the aide nodded — apparently, it was only “important” from the other party’s perspective.
“So, the date is settled now?” Yuan asked.
“Yes, thanks to Your Grace,” Sereret replied.
“Good. Am I still needed here?”
“No, this is my responsibility now.”
“Then keep up the good work.”
Yuan playfully tapped Sereret’s cheek with a finger before leaving the room. His gesture and expression carried a teasing charm — a side of him Sereret rarely saw.
Both the butler and Mrs. Lindsay looked stunned; they weren’t used to seeing their usually cold master act so casually.
Sereret, noticing their faces, cleared her throat and said, “Let’s start by making the guest list.”
“Yes, my lady.”
The two servants quickly composed themselves and returned to work.
Choosing whom to invite was no small task either.
The debate began: should they limit the invitations strictly to nobles, or should they also include middle-class guests connected to Yuan’s business interests?
Sereret argued for including the middle class, while Mrs. Lindsay insisted the invitations remain exclusive to nobility — for the sake of the family’s dignity.
“If we include them, the guest list will become far too long,” Mrs. Lindsay protested.
“Then we’ll simply reduce the number of noble guests,” Sereret countered.
“Reduce the nobles? The Prestuster family is not like those shallow, title-only noble houses!”
“Those shallow nobles you’re talking about — you don’t mean the Inohater family, do you?”
At Mrs. Lindsay’s habitual snide tone, Sereret’s expression hardened.
In her previous life, she hadn’t understood such veiled insults and had let them slide. But not anymore. How dare a mere head maid speak to me like that.
Mrs. Lindsay flinched, unable to deny it.
“Why so quiet? Is that an admission?”
“I never said such a thing, my lady,” she replied, regaining composure.
“Even if I came from a so-called shallow provincial noble family, I know what truly matters and what doesn’t.”
Sereret met Mrs. Lindsay’s eyes; the older woman quickly looked away.
“You say the Prestuster family is different from other title-only nobles. Then tell me, Mrs. Lindsay — why should such a family bother inviting those same shallow nobles at all?”
There were many noble houses barely holding onto their titles in the capital. By Mrs. Lindsay’s own standards, they were “shallow” too.
Sereret’s calm, serious question left the woman speechless.
“You should think practically,” Sereret said coldly. “Only by doing so can you be recognized as the capable head housekeeper of the Prestuster family.”
Even as she said it, Sereret felt a bitter smile tug at her lips — the words were cruel.
In her past life, Yuan had said nearly the same thing to her:
‘Can’t you even handle the guest list properly? You should’ve invited people based on practicality. You’ll never be accepted as the duchess like this.’
Back then, she had bowed to Mrs. Lindsay’s opinion — that only nobles should be invited — out of fear and insecurity.
She had believed she was wrong, and in the end, Yuan had looked at her with disappointment.
It had been a disaster. She’d made mistake after mistake at the party, becoming everyone’s laughingstock. That first party had been miserable from beginning to end.
“His Grace won’t approve of this,” Mrs. Lindsay said, face flushed with anger.
“Then we’ll ask him directly. That’s enough for today.”
Sereret stood.
Asking Yuan would settle the matter neatly — she had no energy left to argue.
She left the tearoom with a weary sigh.
At that moment, she wanted nothing to do with parties or high society. She just wanted to survive the year, divorce Yuan, and walk away with her share of the fortune.
But to ensure a fair settlement, she had to play her role as duchess flawlessly — no mistakes, no scandals.
She couldn’t refuse to host the party, nor could she ruin it. Until the divorce, she had to be the perfect, pitiable duchess.
“I’m so tired…”
Sereret shook her head and went up to her room.
Meanwhile…
“Pfft.”
Lydia, who had been doing embroidery, burst into laughter.
She’d been in an excellent mood lately — thanks to the rumors coming out of the Prestuster estate.
‘Apparently, there’s no trace of it — they never spent their wedding night together.’
When Anita brought her that news the morning after Yuan and Sereret’s wedding, Lydia had been overjoyed.
Since then, she’d heard they still slept in separate rooms. How delightful!
‘Of course. Yuan would never touch such a lowly woman.’
Lydia had faith in Yuan’s taste.
He was not the sort of man who would settle for someone beneath him.
“Poor Sereret,” Lydia said with mock sympathy. “Not even a touch from her husband.”
She was sure Yuan had lost all affection for Sereret after the “ring incident.”
Sereret might’ve been pleased to humiliate her, but she clearly didn’t understand Yuan.
Yuan hated seeing her cry — and since Sereret had made her cry, she must have fallen completely out of his favor.
“Truly pitiful,” Lydia murmured again.
The rumor that the couple hadn’t spent their wedding night had spread far and wide.
Many expressed pity for Sereret, though others found satisfaction in it — after all, Yuan was far too distinguished for a nobody from the provinces.
Thanks to that gossip, the ring incident had been reinterpreted as a tragic love story between Lydia and Yuan — all because Sereret had foolishly tried to embarrass her.
“But they still haven’t found her, have they?”
Lydia’s smile vanished instantly.
“I need to make an example of what happens to those who betray me.”
The maid she had ordered to run an errand — a girl named Ann — had disappeared without a trace. Sereret must have helped her escape.
“How dare she betray me…” Lydia muttered, shaking her head.
Just then, Anita entered the room, carrying a small box.
“Your Highness,” she said.
“What is that?” Lydia asked.
“The medicine you requested. Nunuki says it’s finished.”
“Really?” Lydia’s face lit up.
She opened the box eagerly — inside were two small black bottles.
“It’s enough for a year,” Anita said.
“Good. Deliver it immediately. Make sure the duchess takes it every single day.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Lydia’s lips curved into a satisfied smile.
