STLECM 19

CHAPTER 19

The Lady of the Wintel Estate.

Former Duchess Cyrillege.

She was a woman of great renown. Before marrying the former Duke of Wintel, she had been a famed figure in the capital’s social circles. After her marriage, she became the leading figure in northern society.

All the noblewomen and young ladies did their utmost to win her favor and took great care never to displease her.

A queen in her own right.

There were hardly words beyond that to describe Lady Cyrillege Wintel.

‘She must surely dislike me…’

Traditionally, nobles would never hold even a minor gathering this abruptly. Such events required planning, guest selection, and sending out invitations. Many steps were usually involved.

‘But Lady Cyrillege didn’t follow any of that. She skipped all the formalities.’

Etisha thought she understood the Lady’s intent.

‘She must be angry that the Duke and I suddenly announced our marriage. That must be it.’

By ignoring tradition, family consent, and all proper protocol, Duke Cayenne and Etisha had made their announcement on their own terms, and that clearly upset Lady Cyrillege.

This sudden party, held in the same unceremonious fashion, was meant to put Etisha in her place.

‘I figured something like this might happen…’

Etisha could understand Lady Cyrillege’s feelings.

Etisha Heinz—just a lady from a family unknown in society, no more than a pebble on the roadside. And now, suddenly, she was to be the Duchess of Wintel? Anyone would find that strange.

Let alone the Duke’s mother—how could she be expected to accept her son marrying a mysterious woman of uncertain background?

‘Since the Duke made the announcement himself, she can’t oppose it directly. So now she’s testing me with this unexpected celebratory banquet.’

Etisha gently touched the wedding ring on her left ring finger. The smooth platinum surface had turned cold, as if it had absorbed the chill of the northern air.

‘I will do well.’

As the new Duchess of Wintel, she would show herself to be lacking in nothing.

Of course, Etisha had little to no experience with grand parties or social gatherings. She had never truly immersed herself in the subtle warfare of noble society.

‘But…’

Her sister-in-law Larienne was different.

Even a hunting dog learns to shoot after three years. And Etisha had lived for years beside the mischievous Larienne Heinz, a socialite infamous for stirring up the social scene. Every little comment Larienne made had added up, providing Etisha with a wealth of insight.

It was time for Etisha to rise, using that as her foundation.

The banquet hall was full of people.

A three-tiered cylindrical chandelier sparkled brilliantly, and the tables were piled high with luxurious dishes.

Gratin onion soup with three cheeses. Warm brioche tressé topped with nuts and jam. Regional blood sausage. Thick and sticky potato purée. Prime tenderloin steak and sirloin grill with lemon-butter sauce…

Dishes so exquisite they seemed to come from a painting—but none of the guests touched the food.

Northern nobles and the next generation of young lords and ladies all held their breath, waiting for the main guest to arrive.

“Etisha Heinz, is it? The lady who’s to become the Duchess of Wintel.”

“I’ve never even heard the name. And Heinz is only a viscount family, isn’t it? Not a marquis or even a count—just a viscount’s daughter…”

“You’re all behind on the news. She’s not Heinz anymore—she’s now Baroness El. His Majesty granted her a title.”

“What? Granted a title? Out of nowhere? How?”

“Don’t be shocked—apparently, Duke Cayenne gifted her land.”

The murmuring grew louder. Everyone was dying to know who this mysterious future duchess was.

Some quick-witted nobles passed around quietly gathered intel, and rumors of what had happened to Etisha at the capital’s founding celebration spread like wildfire.

“But still—how in the world did Baroness El end up marrying the Duke?”

“Exactly… That part’s still a complete mystery.”

“The Duke doesn’t even visit the capital often. Up until three years ago, he was away at war. He wouldn’t have had a chance to meet her.”

“Sounds like there must be a story there. Does anyone know more?”

Though some details about Etisha had spread, no one knew the full truth behind the marriage. And of course, how could they?

At that moment, Countess Montmade, known for her love of gossip, dared to speak.

“…What about Lady Cyrillege? She must know more than we do, surely?”

“….”

At the center of the banquet hall.

A middle-aged woman with black hair and gray eyes slowly turned her head. Her pale skin and stern expression gave off a cold, charismatic beauty.

Former Duchess Cyrillege exuded such powerful presence that it was difficult for anyone to approach her lightly.

“Countess Montmade… I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re asking me.”

As soon as Lady Cyrillege opened her mouth, the hall fell silent.

Just a few words—yet the weight behind them was immense.

Countess Montmade, who had spoken too boldly, immediately lowered her eyes and fell silent. She could not withstand Lady Cyrillege’s chilling gaze.

“It seems many of you are under a misconception.”

Lady Cyrillege smiled. A striking smile—but it inspired awe, not admiration.

“This banquet is to celebrate the Duke’s marriage announcement. As someone new is joining House Wintel, I merely wanted to share the joy with you all.”

“…”

“There’s no need for unnecessary words at a celebration.”

The noblewomen nervously watched Lady Cyrillege’s expression, but as always, it was unreadable—just like her son Cayenne.

“I trust you all understand.”

“…Of course, Lady Cyrillege. Without a doubt.”

“It is an honor just to be invited to such a joyous occasion.”

“Indeed. We are grateful to be here.”

With ease, Lady Cyrillege had reined in the nobility. She erased the smile from her face, lips pressed tightly as if there was nothing more to say.

She didn’t touch the food or take her seat—just stood in the center of the hall, eyes fixed on the closed doors.

As the highest-ranking person present, her posture alone kept the rest of the guests standing and waiting, too.

Everyone was simply waiting for the main characters to arrive.

The banquet had yet to begin.

And then, the closed doors finally opened—and in walked a man and a woman, side by side.

Duke Cayenne Wintel and Baroness Etisha El.

Cayenne, dressed in formal black, and Etisha, in a pure white gown, looked like a bride and groom entering their wedding. A perfect pair.

The gossiping guests fell silent. In the quiet hall, only Lady Cyrillege’s stern gaze remained fixed on the two.

“Mother. Have you been well?”

Cayenne approached and greeted her respectfully. Etisha followed suit.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Lady Cyrillege. I’m Etisha El.”

Lady Cyrillege stared silently at Etisha. She did not respond, did not accept the greeting—only looked her up and down, and then her fingers began to tremble slightly.

Etisha assumed she was furious.

‘This is bad. If I’ve upset her this much, I won’t be able to do anything going forward.’

She glanced cautiously up at Cayenne. If his mother hated her this much, it could threaten their marriage itself.

‘What is the Duke thinking right now…?’

But Cayenne’s expression was surprisingly calm. Even with his mother trembling and refusing to acknowledge them, he didn’t seem the least bit troubled.

‘Does he have some plan in mind?’

Etisha looked back at Lady Cyrillege.

Now the Lady’s face was turning red with fury. Her noble, commanding features were flushed, and it felt like she might throw Etisha out at any moment.

A heavy silence followed—until Lady Cyrillege finally spoke.

“…So. Etisha El. You intend to marry my son, Cayenne?”

“Yes, ma’am. The Duke accepted my proposal.”

“You proposed? You, a baroness?”

“Yes. I asked him first. And the Duke accepted.”

The hall buzzed with murmurs. Everyone was shocked.

Even Lady Cyrillege’s eyes sharpened with disbelief.

“That’s… unbelievable. How…”

She clenched her jaw. Etisha glanced again at Cayenne.

He still stood motionless.

No—was that a faint smile on his lips?

‘Why is he smiling?’

Etisha decided to go all in.

Larienne had once said: “Just become famous.” Whatever it took—scandal or spectacle—fame ruled society. Once you were known, people paid attention. Everything else would follow: connections, allies, enemies… even men.

<Etisha, you really don’t get it, do you? Once you become someone unforgettable in society, everything else naturally falls into place—support, friends, rivals… and love, too.>

Etisha had disliked her sister-in-law Larienne, but she couldn’t deny the woman’s magnetism. It was how a mere viscount’s daughter had carved out a powerful place in society.

Etisha calmly extended her hand to Lady Cyrillege.

“Lady Cyrillege.”

And respectfully asked,

“Would you honor me with the first dance of the evening?”

It was a stunning proposal.

In the Empire of Ignivan, the first dance of a banquet held deep symbolic meaning.

The first dance was with family. The second, with a lover.

Etisha, by offering this dance, was publicly declaring that she and Lady Cyrillege were to become family.