~Chapter 11~
The servants of the Arban Duke’s household were openly displeased with Leonia, the prospective lady of the house.
They didn’t voice it outright, but whenever two or more gathered behind closed doors, they whispered their criticisms.
“Do you really think it makes sense for a woman who was jilted by Marquis Rizen to become the lady of the Duke’s house?”
Today, over ninety percent of the staff had gathered, chatting freely.
“To be rejected by that scoundrel… what on earth did she do to deserve it?”
“She hasn’t even had her wedding yet, but just seeing her share a bedroom with the Duke gives you the answer. She’s probably gotten herself pregnant and is trying to tie the Duke down.”
Bang!
At that, someone had clearly had enough. They slammed a hand down onto the table.
“You—what are you doing?!”
It was As, Leonia’s maid, and her expression was completely unreadable. Only then did the gathered servants realize their mistake.
As had been brought from Leonia’s family home and was fiercely loyal to her mistress. If she reported this behavior to Leonia, everyone involved would be finished.
“I seem to be enjoying myself,” Leonia herself announced, appearing in the room before any report could be made.
“Mi-mistress!”
The staff—maids and men alike—dropped to the floor in a panic. Those who had criticized Leonia directly, as well as those who had subtly agreed, trembled as they begged for forgiveness.
“I’ve committed a grave sin!”
“Please spare me!”
“Have mercy, milady!”
“You spoke before, saying you couldn’t accept me as the lady of the house… yet you speak so well,” Leonia remarked with a faint, scornful smile. The staff felt utterly hopeless.
“I am soon to be wed to the Duke. Insulting me is, in fact, insulting the Duke’s choice.”
Heads that had been buried in the floor now turned toward Leonia.
“Normally, I would punish you for this crime. But since you’ve served the Duke’s house faithfully until now…”
Leonia paused, scanning the group of servants. The silent ones, those who had subtly agreed, and the ones who had openly criticized—the line between those to keep and those to dismiss was clear.
“I will be lenient.”
“Eh?”
“You who committed this offense are to leave the Duke’s household within two days. Beyond that, I will ask no further retribution.”
It was an astonishingly generous verdict. Most of the staff were commoners, yet they had dared insult a noblewoman—and she wouldn’t even have them whipped.
“Let’s go, As.”
Leonia turned her back, leaving dozens of stunned eyes staring after her.
“Are you really going to let it go? What if they think the mistress is weak…”
“That won’t happen,” Leonia said confidently.
“All except the two maids at the back will be dismissed,” she added.
“Excuse me?”
“They seemed to agree reluctantly, so I’ll watch them a little longer. Otherwise, both would be dismissed as well.”
As for the rest, the matter was settled.
“But you said only those who sinned would leave…”
“It is up to me, the one insulted, to judge that.”
As blinked in stunned admiration at Leonia’s quiet smile.
“Milady, you are truly remarkable!”
Leonia shook her head modestly, and As pledged her lifelong loyalty.
“But… won’t dismissing so many people at once cause an uproar?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Leonia said. The louder they protested, the better. Let’s hope they all take the bait.
The Arban household saw a mass dismissal of its staff.
Rumors swirled that the reason was simply that Leonia had displeased her mistress. Some murmured that she was already acting like the lady of the house even before her wedding, but most believed the stronger reason was her growing closeness to Louis.
Perhaps influenced by this public opinion, Diego acted impulsively.
‘He actually plans to throw another banquet at a time like this?’
Not long ago, he had hosted a grand feast at the palace to announce his engagement to the Branto Marquis’s daughter—and even caused an incident that earned him house confinement. Even without malice, he should have exercised some restraint.
“…Reni, you really have no eye for men. It’s tragic,” Alice commented bluntly, clearly unimpressed.
“Considering someone like that is the next emperor, I suppose the empire is doomed. Maybe it’s time to consider exile.”
Perhaps because we were alone in the soundproof carriage, her words were sharper than usual.
“And while I’m at it, I don’t like your fiancé either.”
“…You mean Louis?”
“Yes.”
I looked at Alice, puzzled why he had come up now.
“No matter how busy he is, sending you alone to the atelier to fit your wedding dress is absurd.”
We were on our way to the atelier to select dresses for the upcoming banquet and wedding. Louis had claimed overwork as his excuse for not attending, though he had generously rented the city’s most famous atelier. Yet to Alice, he had already earned the reputation of being a second Diego.
“Better to just have the designer come to the mansion,” I suggested.
“The mansion is inconvenient. Even though I tidied things up, I can only tolerate a few staff who dislike me,” Alice replied.
I defended Louis lightly and brought up a subject I had been meaning to ask.
“What about the request I made before?”
“The matter with the Duke’s household isn’t settled yet, but the painter’s side is ready,” Alice said, handing me a paper envelope she had tucked away in the carriage.
Inside was a list of currently active painters in the capital.
“I focused on new debuting artists, as you suggested, though I think it’s rather reckless,” she added.
“Really?” I skimmed the list casually. “I thought fresh talent could be exciting.”
“Fresh only works if the artwork comes out on time and properly,” Alice warned, sighing.
She was right. Any delays or subpar work would provide ammunition to those wishing to tarnish my reputation.
“But established painters probably won’t accept my commission anyway,” I countered.
Despite being engaged to the Arban Duke, my reputation was still tarnished. Many opposed me simply because of Diego.
“It’s better to take a risk with the newcomers than grovel to the powerful,” I concluded. Alice fell silent, apparently unable to argue further.
“…Fine. How could I stop you?”
Perhaps she secretly hoped I would discover a rising star and set a new trend in the social scene.
And I intend to do exactly that.
I had already picked the painter I would commission from the list Alice provided. If they were still unknown now, they would surely become a celebrated name later—building a relationship early would secure my advantage.
“By the way, what about your fiancé?”
“That matter seems settled,” I said.
“Settled? Nothing’s been resolved!” Alice pressed stubbornly.
Even after I tried to change the topic, she persisted.
“It may sound childish, but I find him unsettling. I don’t like him. Something about him feels off.”
Alice’s instincts, as the original heroine, were sharp.
“You had him investigated because you felt uneasy, didn’t you?”
“Well…” I hesitated, unsure what to say. Just then, the carriage stopped.
At the coachman’s announcement of our arrival, I stood.
“We’ll talk about this after we return,” I said. It was not a topic for others to overhear, and Alice nodded obediently.
True to its reputation as the capital’s most famous atelier, the normally bustling space was quiet today.
Diego’s sudden banquet had booked nearly every atelier in the city, making our reserved spot a rare feat.
“Leonia Velasi and Alice Velasi, thank you again for visiting our atelier,” said the chief designer, joined by the atelier’s manager.
“Do you have any preferred colors or styles?”
As we barely settled on the sofa, a series of catalogs showcasing the latest popular designs were laid out before us.
“As you know, green dresses have been very popular recently.”
“Of course,” I acknowledged. Around one or two years ago, the newly titled Count had discovered a new dye, sparking a trend for green gowns.
That Count was a friend of Diego’s, and during my previous engagement, he had caused several scandals with Diego, even kissing him openly in front of me.
‘I’m not wearing a gown that Count popularized.’
Alice seemed to think the same and quickly vetoed green. I followed suit, flipping to the next catalog.
“Personally, I think shades of purple would be suitable,” I said. As I was not a debutante and already engaged, a dress that complemented my eye color would suffice.
“We’ll show you both light and deep purple options,” the designer said. Examining raw fabrics, checking color tones, and combining designs with sample dresses, time slipped away.
“Um… would you like a portrait as well?” a young girl asked suddenly.
“I can work quickly—I could finish it in two days if you wish.”
She had pale skin and short hair, with a slightly unusual northern accent.
“Anna!”
One startled employee ran forward and grabbed her arm.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m new here and may have overstepped,” the employee apologized, causing Anna to bow her head.
“It’s fine. I wasn’t offended,” I reassured her. The employee visibly relaxed and guided Anna to a corner. I couldn’t help but watch them quietly, pretending not to.
