STLECM 29

CHAPTER 29

Once the commotion had settled somewhat, the Marquis of Hexion, who had been watching from the sidelines, stepped forward.

“Well then, Madam Monmad, it would be best if you changed into a fresh outfit. As it happens, there is a dress here at the marquisate without an owner. I was deceived into buying it by a particularly persuasive merchant, but today, it seems that dress will finally find its rightful wearer.”

With practiced elegance, Marquis Hexion escorted Madam Monmad away from the scene.

No one questioned the fact that the unmarried Marquis owned a woman’s dress. Given Hexion’s well-known reputation for womanizing, it wouldn’t have been surprising even if he had women’s undergarments in his possession.

Marquis Hexion led Madam Monmad upstairs to a discreet room, out of sight.

“Madam.”

A beautiful voice—like that of a snake waiting for its moment—began to tempt Madam Monmad.

“Please allow me to apologize for today’s incident. I was taught that nobles should never turn a blind eye to injustice, and yet I failed to act during today’s events. I have no excuse before the Countess.”

Madam Monmad responded curtly, trying her best to hide her displeasure.

“No need, Marquis. You have nothing to apologize for. However, I do hope you’ll be more careful with your guest list next time. I don’t wish to see such commoners at events like these.”

“Hah… Is that so?”

Marquis Hexion smiled, his eyes curving as if he had been waiting for her to say just that.

“I didn’t expect such a reaction from you, Countess. It’s surprising.”

“Surprising? What do you mean by that?”

“Isn’t it you, more than anyone, who needs that girl?”

This time, Madam Monmad couldn’t hide her scowl.

Needs her?

Who would need a filthy commoner like that?!

Countess Monmad felt deeply insulted. At that moment, the Marquis whispered conspiratorially.

“Listen closely. The northern nobility will never be able to surpass the Wintels. As long as Wintel stands strong, none of the other families can rise to the top.”

“Marquis Hexion. What are you saying right now?”

“But as you know, Lady Cyrillezé’s time in society is nearing its end.”

“…?”

“With Duke Cayenne’s marriage approaching, a new Duchess of Wintel will soon take her place. When that happens, Lady Cyrillezé will have to step down.”

He was right.

As powerful as Lady Cyrillezé was in the northern social scene, she couldn’t reign forever.

Once Cayenne married, and Etisha became the rightful Duchess of Wintel, all of the family’s influence and prestige would shift to her.

“I’m sure you already know. Baroness Etisha El… formerly Etisha Heinz. A completely forgettable lady in the capital.”

“Yes, well… The rumors say she was rather withdrawn.”

“Then I’ll speak plainly. Lady Etisha—though she may become the Duchess—won’t be able to dominate the social scene. The throne will be vacant, and there will be no one worthy to claim it.”

Countess Monmad found herself slowly drawn in by the Marquis’s words.

The ambition and desire she had buried under the weight of Wintel’s authority began to rekindle.

“Are you suggesting that I should be the one to claim that throne?”

“In the realm of society, yes. You are more than qualified, Countess. If not you, who else could succeed Lady Cyrillezé?”

“……”

“But opportunity only comes to those who create it. If Lady Etisha marries the Duke in a grand ceremony, all the support of high society will shift to her. You must strike before that happens.”

An opening.

A sliver of weakness in the mountain-like presence of House Wintel.

That fleeting moment between Lady Cyrillezé’s retirement and Duchess Etisha’s debut—the only time such a gap would exist.

Marquis Hexion was telling her to aim for that gap.

“Do you think I have a real chance?”

“If I thought otherwise, I wouldn’t be saying any of this.”

“Then how?”

“That girl you dislike so much—Judith. Use her.”

“Use… her?”

“She was raised by Lady Cyrillezé. I’ve confirmed she lives in Wintel Castle. A mole on the inside… something like that.”

“She’s still a commoner. I doubt she’ll be of any real use to me.”

The Marquis merely shrugged.

At that moment, maids knocked on the door, bringing in a new dress. Hexion stepped aside to open it.

“The only thing I can say is this: if you miss this moment, you won’t get another. Countess.”

Just one month until the wedding.

Only a month before Etisha became the Duchess of Wintel…

Countess Monmad practically snatched the red dress from the maids’ hands. Its rose-petal shaped sleeves brought to mind the Marquis’s symbol: a rose.

“Hmph, a true lady ought to give in to a handsome man’s temptation now and then.”

The top of society…

Could someone without the Wintel name really rise to that place?

As she changed out of her tea-stained dress into the new one, Countess Monmad made her decision.

Etisha the Baroness… She really did look like a tiny little fish.

Compared to Lady Cyrillezé’s charisma—or even herself—Etisha was miles behind.

I just might be able to beat her.

It wouldn’t be easy. But as the Marquis said, there was a gap.

Judith…

A commoner rumored to be both Lady Cyrillezé’s adopted daughter and Duke Cayenne’s mistress.

If she could use Judith, the future might unfold differently.

An ambitious smile bloomed on the Countess’s lips, erasing the scowl that had marred her brow.

Yes, this might be worth playing with.

Fully dressed once more, Countess Monmad returned to the tea table and effortlessly rejoined the mingling nobles.

“Ho ho, I was away far too long. My apologies. And now that I think about it, my earlier words were rather careless. Please allow me to apologize properly here and now.”

She smiled warmly and turned to Judith.

Judith glanced awkwardly at Marquis Hexion, clearly confused by the Countess’s sudden change in demeanor.

“Miss Judith? If you are like a daughter to Lady Cyrillezé, then you’re as good as a daughter to me as well. I’ll send a small gift tomorrow as a token of apology—please don’t feel burdened.”

“Ah…”

“And if you don’t mind, I’d like to call you by a nickname. May I? Dite?”

“Y-Yes… of course, Madam Monmad. Please feel free. And I’m sorry about earlier—for spilling the tea.”

“Oh, nonsense. That’s all in the past now. Let’s just enjoy each other’s company from now on.”

With varied laughter, the tea party at Marquis Hexion’s estate reached its height.

Each person laughed differently. Each mind held its own intentions.

Late in the afternoon.

Etisha was utterly drained after fitting and trying on what felt like a mountain of dresses.

She had wanted to argue that she wouldn’t need so many clothes for just one year, but she couldn’t bring herself to protest.

By the time she escaped the receiving room, she felt like a melted snail under the scorching sun.

Even receiving gifts is exhausting…

Climbing the stairs slowly, she planned to rest in her bedroom before dinner.

Huh?

But something unexpected happened.

Where am I?

She had gotten lost in the vast Wintel estate.

Cayenne had told her to always take maids with her, but she’d forgotten, distracted by the endless dress fittings.

This is bad. The hallways all look the same. I’ll just keep walking until I find someone and ask for directions.

There were plenty of people working in the castle, so she was bound to run into someone.

Etisha wandered through the long corridor, eyes scanning around. Red carpet lined the floor. Candles flickered softly in ornate wall sconces.

Wait, what’s that…?

She stopped.

Beyond the corridor, several portraits hung in a row.

Golden, antique frames. Portraits of nobles. Below each one was the name of the person, their birth date, and death.

These must be portraits of past Wintel family members.

They ranged from very old paintings to more recent ones, all displayed in order. Etisha walked along the hallway, admiring them in succession.

They all have black hair. It must be the Wintel family trademark.

Enthralled, she soon reached the end of the hallway. Only the most recent portraits remained.

Cayenne’s must be at the end, right?

She was eager to see it.

Etisha picked up her pace. But then, she noticed a gap in the line of paintings—like a missing tooth in a neat smile.

Huh…? There’s an empty spot. Why is one missing?

It bothered her—like a missing stone in a path.

But more curious about Cayenne’s portrait, she moved on.

…
[    ] [Kailles Wintel] [Cayenne Wintel]

At the very end hung Cayenne’s portrait, next to it the one of Kailles Wintel, his predecessor.

Etisha stood between the two and looked back and forth.

Wow, handsome.

Though not as striking as in person, the artist had clearly done his best. The painted Cayenne was captivating.

Wearing a black uniform, a sword at his hip—she was almost tempted to reach out and touch the canvas.

His father’s amazing, too.

Kailles, the former Duke of Wintel.

Etisha had never seen him in person, so she couldn’t say how accurate the painting was, but he definitely had a commanding presence.

Black hair, blue eyes. A strong-featured, handsome man…

If Cayenne ages like this, he’ll be incredible.

But then… something felt off.

She kept looking back and forth between the two portraits.

Cayenne… then Kailles…

She couldn’t quite place it, but there was a strange sense of dissonance.

And then, someone called out from behind her.

“Lady Etisha.”

“Eek…!”

She nearly collapsed from surprise.

There had been no one there, but the voice came from alarmingly close.

“D-Duke…”

Etisha spun around.

Standing right behind her was Cayenne.