Chapter 18
After reporting to the duke, Charlotte sent a letter to the grand duke’s residence right away.
Three days passed with no reply, and she started to worry—until a letter arrived saying more time was needed because the schedule hadn’t been settled yet.
“…Good.”
She’d been a little nervous the letter might say he wanted to go with her.
“You’re overthinking it,” she muttered, smiling at herself for fretting for days.
She set the letter on the table and went back to the book in her other hand.
Lately, she’d been reading farming manuals closely. She planned to retire to a region where agriculture was developed.
‘Not on a big scale—just enough to feed myself.’
Also, carefully raising something takes effort; unlike here, it might keep her from sinking into sudden bouts of gloom.
She closed the book after finishing the last page.
Right then, noise burst out beyond the door.
“L-Lady! P-please, just—”
“I’m fine! I’m coming in!”
“Still—!”
It was Anna’s flustered voice, but the person outside ignored her and flung the door open.
Only one person in this house entered her room that rudely.
“Sis!”
Her half-sister Dana strode in, voice bright.
“What are you doing outside lately, exactly?”
Suspicion and wariness filled her tone. At the same time, she shrank a little, afraid Charlotte might lash out.
Charlotte glanced over her indifferently and picked up a new book:
“Understanding Rice Transplanting—The Right Way.” Perfect for this season.
Turning the table of contents, she answered Dana’s question at last.
“Nothing you’d call ‘a thing.’ More importantly, who taught you to come into my room without asking?”
“I heard everything from Father. You tormented me all this time and now you say you’re leaving? Tell me—what scheme are you plotting this time?”
“What you heard is all there is.”
And the one who was always desperate to devour the other wasn’t me—it was you.
Though in this life, Charlotte had apparently bullied Dana about as much as the old Charlotte had.
Judging by how meek the sister—who usually would have fought back—was being.
Charlotte snapped her book shut with a loud thack! Dana squeaked and stumbled back a few steps.
“I—I came with the knights!”
“Who said anything? I have nothing to tell you. Go on. What His Excellency said is exactly it. Even if you don’t believe it, so what? That’s your problem.”
“It’s still suspicious… Huh? W-what did you just call him?”
Dana’s face turned odd, as if she’d heard something wrong in Charlotte’s words.
“Sis, did you just call Father—”
“Why? The Duke is His Excellency.”
“Mm? N-no, nothing.”
Dana’s expression twisted strangely—half smile, half nerves. Charlotte gave up trying to read her mood.
That girl always flipped her emotions before anyone could catch up anyway.
“And little sister—you should be happy I’m leaving. Without me, you’ll become head of the ducal house without trouble.”
At that, Dana’s frozen expression burst into joy.
“Just try taking it back later! I’ll tell Father to send you off tomorrow!”
“Go ahead.”
Even if he wanted to grant her every wish, the duke still needed a pretext; he wouldn’t be able to throw Charlotte out the very next day.
Dana slammed the door on her way out, as rudely as when she’d come. She always blurted whatever she wanted and left.
Maybe because of that personality, Dana had been terrible at business in the original world—everything she touched went bankrupt within months.
Which had, of course, been very convenient for Charlotte, loyal to the Emperor’s faction.
Her thoughts drifted, but this time she returned to reality quickly.
“I should study farming methods harder.”
Reading would at least soothe this vicious homesickness.
***
Meanwhile, Noctum was staring at the letter Charlotte had sent earlier.
He hadn’t expected her to repay a favor like that.
“Go with your fiancée, huh. Hah. Unbelievable.”
If he cared about appearances, it was the right choice—Noctum wasn’t single like Charlotte.
But if you truly repay someone, shouldn’t you host the person yourself and share the meal?
It was a forced thought, but he didn’t sweat the details.
As he brooded over the letter, a knock sounded and his aide, Tay, entered.
“Your Grace, you absolutely must show your face at Lady Goldstein’s tea party today.”
The same reminder he’d heard for days. Noctum rose, radiating reluctance.
He wanted to blow it off as usual, but today’s tea party gathered the Emperor-faction ladies.
He shrugged on his dress uniform jacket; there wasn’t time to get fancy.
‘I’ll hand over a bouquet, show my face, and leave.’
He had no intention of staying more than five minutes. As if reading his mind, Tay added:
“Your Grace, please stay at least five minutes. And while you’re there, ask about Lady Daphsine’s restaurant reservation date. I need to send a reply quickly, don’t I? Yes?”
“…”
Noctum ignored him, of course.
Behind him, Tay thumped his own chest and muttered that he’d quit this time for real. Noctum snorted.
He’d heard that line a hundred times.
‘I should give him a bonus this month.’
That would quiet him again. Ignoring Tay’s lament, Noctum took the flowers and gift and headed to Rina Goldstein’s tea party.
On the way, he stared out the carriage window, half hoping to spot Charlotte—but not a strand of her hair appeared.
A hollow feeling spread in his chest—an emotion even he couldn’t name.
He stepped into Rina’s estate with a dampened mood.
Tay had insisted on a surprise entrance, so Noctum told the knight not to announce him.
As he walked toward the garden where the party was in full swing, he heard voices—far off, but clear to a sword master.
“Anyway, you must feel awful, my lady, with those lies everyone’s spreading.”
“Oh, the rumor? The one about the lady and His Grace together on that stormy day. It’s surely false, but even if it were true—ridiculous.”
“That wretch always bragged about how she’d ensnare His Grace—must’ve used black magic! Don’t fret, Rina.”
They were clearly talking about Charlotte and him. Noctum’s pace slowed.
The chatter didn’t. This time Rina spoke first:
“I’m fine. I’m the fiancée. No matter what that wretch tries, she’ll only be mocked in the end.”
“Of course! And you outshine her in every way—temperament and beauty both. That woman’s face is full of malice.”
“Exactly. She’s so obsessed with luxury—just looking at her is tiring. Even if the rumor were true, His Grace must have been momentarily blind.”
Light laughter filled the garden.
“Hah.”
Noctum’s face, once expressionless, hardened into something far darker.
He kept walking toward them. At last, he was close enough to see their faces.
At the center, naturally, was Rina Goldstein, laughing loudly as she tore into Charlotte.
Then Rina lobbed a huge bomb:
“Evil must be rooted out. Those black-magic rumors didn’t appear for nothing. The moment I become grand duchess, I’ll put that wretch on trial.”
Something inside Noctum caved in.
The words felt distant. Cold sweat slicked his palm where his fist clenched so tight it trembled.
His heart pounded. Fury surged, uncontrollable.
He couldn’t name the reason. For the first time in his life, he lost his composure.
Which is why—
Without thinking, in the middle of a gathering of Emperor-faction ladies, he said the unthinkable.
Step. Step.
He’d been approaching silently; now his footsteps rang out.
Startled by the sudden sound, everyone turned.
Faces went pale. Noctum Afros’ expression was as icy as a northern blizzard.
Rina, most of all, felt her breath catch.
Noctum spoke, slowly.
“Who…”
His voice was glacial. Hearing it was like being sealed in ice; bodies trembled.
His cool eyes locked straight onto Rina’s shaking gaze.
“Who here said she’s going to be the mistress of House Afros?”
