TTPD 09

Chapter 9

The Reason for Marriage (9)

Grayson was about to step down from the carriage when he spotted Edith’s parasol lying in the corner of the opposite seat.

It seemed it had slipped into the gap, and she hadn’t noticed it when she got out.

He picked up the parasol and stepped down.

The coachman, who had opened the door and was waiting, glanced at the parasol in Grayson’s hand and asked:

“Shall I deliver it to the lady?”

“No. I’ll return it to her the next time we meet.”

“Yes, understood, my lord.”

After acknowledging the coachman’s polite bow, Grayson headed into the mansion.

A waiting attendant hurried over to take his coat.

When the attendant also reached out to take the parasol, Grayson gave a small shake of the head.

“I’ll keep this.”

He walked up the main hall staircase, through an unnecessarily long corridor, and entered his bedroom.

He placed the parasol on the table in the sitting area and had just sat down to loosen his cravat when someone knocked.

“Your Highness, may I come in?”

In the Myers ducal estate, the only person who still called Grayson “Your Highness” was Helenna Windsor, once his nanny and now the head lady-in-waiting.

“Come in.”

At his permission, Lady Windsor opened the door and entered.

As befitted her position, she maintained a dignified expression as she set down an evening tea tray on the table.

Though her duties were complete, she did not leave.

Clearly, she had many questions about today’s date, but Grayson purposely said nothing and leisurely lifted his teacup.

Lady Windsor kept darting glances between his face and the parasol lying on the table, until at last she could not restrain herself.

“Your Highness, did today’s date end without any trouble?”

“Thanks to you.”

“Lady Reynolds didn’t behave rudely, did she?”

Helenna Windsor had deep ties with the current queen—Grayson’s late mother, Colette.

As children, she had been Colette’s playmate, and when Colette married into Centard’s royal family, Helenna followed her and later became nanny to the young prince.

Because of this history, her affection for Grayson was unusually strong.

When this absurd marriage was decided, she had not held back her outrage in the slightest.

“Lady Reynolds is clever and sensible—far more than the rumors suggested.”

At Grayson’s remark, Lady Windsor frowned.

“Sensible? And yet she behaved like that at a party Her Majesty attended?”

Grayson had already heard about the incident at a certain countess’s party—because the moment the engagement rumors began, Lady Windsor had brought it up while furiously declaring that this marriage was absurd.

“To step on a young lady’s toe hard enough to break a bone… It’s vulgar and crude beyond words. Would a sensible person do that? That poor girl is still on crutches because the bone hasn’t healed.”

Back then, Grayson’s only impression had been A remarkable woman.

But after meeting Edith today, he was convinced her actions must have had a reason.

‘This boring and tedious negotiation is something the duke wants, so I think you should consider my stance and feelings a little more.’

She knew exactly how to express her own feelings.

‘Well, yes. It’s not good. For a man to have a weakness that leaves him unable to refuse a woman’s pestering…’

And with just one casual comment about rumors, she instantly understood what displeased him.

That was why he had told her about the king’s uneven affection.

Because she seemed like someone who would understand why Grayson had no choice but to maintain a marriage that offered him nothing—and someone who would faithfully uphold her part in that duty.

Even after Lady Windsor left the room grumbling about the engagement, Grayson continued drinking his tea, idly staring at the parasol on the table.

‘You should use this too, Your Grace. The sun is harsh today.’

He remembered how she had primly opened the parasol the moment she stepped out of the carriage, then lifted it high—straining to cover his head with it as well.

The look on her face as she tried to reach him with that parasol made Grayson smile without realizing it.

Unexpectedly clever, unexpectedly sensible, and unexpectedly… adorable.

***

The lie—“I already had dinner”—did not work.

Marquess Reynolds had ordered Edith brought to the dining room, and for Emma, the head maid, the marquess’s command was akin to divine decree.

Emma seized Edith by the wrist and dragged her out of the room.

“Let go, Emma.”

“I will if you behave. Do you think I want to do this to you?”

You absolutely want to.

Emma enjoyed treating Eliana and Edith with disrespect.

She never abused them openly, but she delighted in the fact that a mere commoner like herself could treat a noble girl however she pleased—and they could do nothing about it.

Sometimes, like now, she went out of her way to prove it.

Her grip was vicious, as if she meant to snap Edith’s wrist.

Years of housework had hardened Emma’s hands, and Edith genuinely wondered whether her bones might crack.

Even when Edith stopped resisting and allowed herself to be dragged, Emma still refused to release her.

She tugged sharply, pushed her around, and marched forward with self-satisfied vigor.

Edith watched Emma’s cheerful profile for a moment, then spoke quietly.

“Emma.”

“What?”

“Why were you there that day?”

Emma froze.

Her grip loosened instantly—Edith felt it clearly.

“That day…? There…? W-what are you talking about?”

Too late, Emma.

Emma quickly masked her expression, but Edith had already seen the flicker of panic.

With no details given—just that day and there—Emma had immediately understood.

“That day my mother fell from the temple spire.”

Emma’s hand clenched again—tightening around Edith’s wrist.

Edith watched the blood drain from Emma’s fingers and continued calmly:

“When the acolyte came to report the accident, several people went to confirm Mother’s body. So why did you go?”

Eliana Reynolds had fallen from the temple spire and died in January of the previous year.

A young acolyte cleaning the grounds had discovered her body and rushed to the Reynolds estate to report it.

A small group—including Edith—had gone to the temple to confirm Eliana’s death.

Wyatt. Mateo. Lillian. And Emma.

“I-I don’t know why you’re suddenly bringing that up. It’s been a whole year already.”

‘Why?

Because I’ve been wondering ever since that day—but I couldn’t ask.

I had to stay alive.

And everything about it was too strange.’

It was natural for the marquess, Mateo—who would inherit the title—and Edith, the marquess’s legal daughter, to go identify the body.

But Lillian and Emma?

They had no reason to be there.

At the time, Edith had been too overwhelmed by grief to question anything, but during the funeral, doubt began to grow.

‘Lillian, Emma—why did you go there?

What did you want to see?

What did you think you needed to confirm?

The marquess, Mateo, and I were more than enough.’

Once born, the suspicion refused to die.

One doubt fed another.

Then, even Eliana’s death—declared an accident or s*icide—became suspicious.

After the funeral, the Reynolds family pretended to mourn for about a week, then returned to daily life as though nothing had happened.

But Edith did not.

In that h*ll of grief, she thought and thought again—until horrific possibilities began forming in her mind.

But with no power at all, she could do nothing except curl up in her room and imagine how she might someday force the guilty to face justice.

‘And now, through my marriage to the Duke of Myers… I finally have the chance to turn those imaginings into reality.’

Not to strike immediately.

She only meant to nudge—just lightly.

But Emma reacted far more strongly than expected.

“I just… suddenly wondered.”

“You’re curious about useless things. Instead of that, maybe think about how not to get discarded by His Grace.”

Emma couldn’t even meet her eyes.

Edith smiled sweetly.

“Mm, I’ll do that.”

Of course she would.

She would cling tightly to the Duke of Myers—at least until the day all of them walked through the same h*ll she had endured.