TGDHC Chapter 83

Chapter 83: Eve Festival (1)

Meisel frowned, not fully understanding.

—“It would be unfortunate, you see. If another disturbance happens, as Merchant Guild Leader, I could be blamed again.”

Gelfry tapped his plump fingers on the desk.

—“Of course, if, like last time, there’s some other unknown culprit, my innocence will be proven. Wasn’t it said a hooded woman was involved?”

‘Cause a disturbance at the lakeside market, just like last time.’

His demand was clear.

Before, Meisel had used Gelfry without him realizing.
But this time, he intended to use her, causing trouble without dirtying his own hands.

“After all, unlike me, Lady Meisel won’t be suspected. It’s simply helping each other.”

Meisel hesitated, calculating her gains and losses.

—“Not right away… I’ll need to contact… someone first.”

—“Don’t worry. I’ll give you plenty of time.”

Gelfry grinned.
He planned to strike at the most dramatic moment, so there was no rush.

—“But make sure I get my investment money back, understood?”

—“Naturally. From today, you’ll see Alchent running around desperately trying to borrow money. Not that anyone will lend to him.”

He laughed boldly as he said it.

But in the end, he failed to take The Northern News from Alchent.

“Who in the world lent him that money…?”

Unable to pinpoint anyone, he fumed in frustration.

***

As the lakeside market’s opening drew near, I became very busy.
The foreign delegation’s visit was also approaching.

Foolishly, I realized very late that hosting the delegation was part of the duchess’s role.

‘If Sir Perel hadn’t told me, I would’ve been in real trouble!’

When I naively asked where the delegation would be staying, Perel, after some hesitation, explained.

At first, Loic brushed it off.
“There’s no need to worry, Annette.”

But when I glared and accused him of once again interfering with my role as mistress of the house, he frantically waved his hands.

“They’re just envoys. We can shove them anywhere in the guest wing.”

“Fine. Say we don’t throw a ball or banquet. But we must at least host a formal dinner. And we’ll need servants assigned to wait on them.”

“Whitley can handle that—”

“We went through all that trouble to invite the delegation! How can you just dump everything on Whitley?”

“No, I didn’t mean—”

Seeing his flustered face, I realized that if I hadn’t spoken up, the envoys might have been treated as poorly as I was on my first day at the ducal manor.

So I gave out tasks.

“Whitley, check every corner of the guest wing—make sure nothing needs repairs. Especially curtains and bedding.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Sir Perel, contact the delegation and gather information. Find out what foods they like or dislike, any health issues, and special needs. Get details, even small preferences, through their aides if possible.”
“Understood.”

“Leta, ask Bennet to choose maids to serve in the guest wing for now. If there aren’t enough, include those who volunteer to help.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”

“And as for you, Duke—!”

Everyone left with their assignments, leaving only Loic, who looked eager, as if waiting for me to give him something too.

“Go reflect on yourself.”

He muttered in protest, looking a little pitiful.
“But… this is my office…”

***

The days passed quickly, and at last, the eve of the market opening arrived.

Mr. Barnes walked with excitement, holding his wife’s and son’s hands, as they arrived at the lakeside.

They had given out invitation tickets to participants for the pre-opening festival. Barnes had bought thirty copies of The Northern News and, at last, won one.

His wife, unusually, praised him, and he was beaming with pride.

By dusk, the entrance was crowded with people waiting to get in.

Then, lights suddenly flickered on among the trees, illuminating the lakeside brightly.

“Wow!” people gasped in awe.

The guards received a signal and swung open the massive iron gates.

“Please show your invitation tickets. We’ll assist you with entry.”

Uniformed staff greeted them politely.

After a simple check, Barnes and his family entered.

Following the lit path through the forest, the lake finally appeared.
From the vast surface of the water, huge fountains shot up like whales spouting water.

“Is that a fountain on the lake?”
“I’ve never seen jets of water that big!”

People stared in amazement.

On both sides of the lakeshore, charming shops lined the way.
Owners and clerks stood out front, bowing and greeting warmly.

“What a wonderland!”

Barnes nodded at his wife’s awed expression.
“Where should we look first?”

Some strolled slowly by the lakeside.
Others, urged by children, ran to snack stalls.
Still others rushed to claim outdoor café tables.

Barnes and his wife let their son pull them toward the shops.

“Looks like snacks are that way.”

The market was neatly divided into zones, each shop marked with clear picture signs.

The boy spotted a drawing of a fat sausage.
“Dad! Buy me one!”

At the stall, the owner greeted them with a smile.
Menus were drawn clearly for easy choice.

The boy pointed at the picture, and Barnes ordered three.

But as he handed over the money—
“Oh dear!”

The shopkeeper looked troubled.
“What is it?”

“I’m sorry, I forgot to bring enough change in the rush of preparations.”

Barnes and his wife hadn’t brought change either.

“Wait just a moment! Jerome! Jerome!”

He called out, and a young man in uniform came running.

“What’s wrong?”

“I forgot change. Can you help?”

“Of course. I have some.”

Jerome pulled out a pouch of coins and exchanged it smoothly.

“Thanks!”
“No problem.”

With his gentle smile, even those waiting in line looked pleased.

Barnes noticed his wife’s cheeks pink and muttered, a bit sulky,
“Are you a clerk here?”

“I’m a staff member from the Market Management Office. If you need anything, just look for someone dressed like me.”

“Oh my, even his voice…” two women whispered behind them.

Barnes’s wife asked shyly,
“Excuse me, do you know where those picnic mats are sold?”

She pointed to a lakeside area where many people sat on mats.

“Those are rentals from the management office,” Jerome explained.
“If you want to buy one instead, go to Zone B, the third shop. They sell picnic supplies.”

“How kind! Thank you.”

Jerome smiled and left when another vendor called for him.

Barnes’s family rented a mat, sat down, and ordered tea from a café while enjoying the view.

“Daddy! I want that too!”

Their son pointed at children nearby playing with fluffy balls of wool, shaping them into lambs and adding eyes and tails.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a lamb-making kit, from the shop just behind us,” explained a woman on the next mat.

“Dad! Hurry!”

So Barnes followed his eager son back toward the stalls.

“Wow, look at that. The lamb dolls are even more popular than I expected.”

Cecilia and I stood on the second-floor terrace of the management office, watching the crowds.

“You’re leaning too far. That’s dangerous,” Tiern scolded, frowning.