Chapter 16
Chapter 16. The Golden-Gleaming Horoscope
“Hmm?”
Anje widened her eyes as she examined Mariana’s horoscope chart.
Though Mariana’s gentle and considerate nature could at times appear indecisive, Anje sensed that, when faced with a crisis, a firm, unshakable side would emerge.
A small smile curved Anje’s lips.
The young lady of the duke’s house was quiet but deep-thinking, blessed with the fate of having many siblings. By contrast, the grand duchess—Mariana’s patron—had no children of her own. Mariana’s chart, rich with the luck of numerous siblings, seemed to complement her godmother’s lonely destiny perfectly.
Is this why people say virtue brings fortune?
Had the grand duchess not taken pity on her poorer relatives, who could say what might have become of Joseph, Mariana, or even the grand duchess herself?
And that golden glow…
Mariana’s horoscope shimmered with a faint gold—so delicate it looked as though it might wink out at any moment.
Anje had seen such a golden light only once before, when a distant imperial relative had come to consult her.
Yet Mariana was merely a collateral member of House Seid.
Which could only mean the golden light signified marriage. But as far as Anje knew, the current emperor had no brothers save one half-brother wandering abroad.
And the emperor himself already had several empresses, with no suitable collateral kin of similar age.
Anje’s thoughts tangled as she frowned.
Warmth suddenly overlapped her own hand. Looking up, she found Hildegard smiling gently.
“Oh my, a cake from Bûchon! Did His Grace send this? How wonderfully thoughtful.”
Hildegard reached out to take the cake box as if it were only natural, but paused when it didn’t budge from Anje’s grasp.
Puzzled, Hildegard lifted her violet eyes to Anje.
“Miss Anje?”
Meeting that beautiful gaze, Anje offered a polite smile.
“I am Anje, eldest daughter of the Baron of Beaufort in Belf,” she said, invoking the false identity Elliot had prepared for her.
“His Grace said that on his way back from the palace he saw the long line at the dessert shop and immediately thought of Miss Mariana—no one else but her. Shall I open it for you, my lady?”
With careful hands, Anje set the box on the table before Mariana and met her eyes.
When Mariana gave a small nod, Anje lifted the lid and displayed the contents.
Sunlight streaming through the greenhouse made the neatly stacked strawberries atop the cake sparkle like jewels.
“They say it layers the season’s first Garquite strawberries with soft vanilla cream on thin sheets of sponge,” Anje recited—words she’d calmly memorized from the label on the box before entering the greenhouse.
Then, with an almost imperious tilt of her chin, she slowly rotated the cake so everyone could admire it—
as if to let them all witness the duke’s affection for his sister, and to remind them who truly presided over this gathering.
Mariana’s eyes lit with delight—clearly her fondness for strawberries was genuine—but soon she began glancing nervously at Hildegard and the rest of the company.
“Ah… Miss Anje, was it?” she managed, a bead of cold sweat forming on her brow.
Warm afternoon light filtered through the study.
The only sound was the scratch of a pen across paper as Joseph reviewed and signed documents.
Elliot, watching him work, couldn’t suppress a long yawn.
“Ha-aam—”
Smack!
The sharp sound of a pen dropped onto the desk made Elliot’s shoulders jerk.
“S-sorry, Your Grace. I didn’t sleep well last night. Just… a lot on my mind.”
Joseph stood abruptly, shrugging into the jacket draped over his chair.
“How long has it been since Anje left?”
“About an hour, I think.”
“Fifteen minutes to the greenhouse, twenty to deliver the cake and confirm the target, another fifteen to return. That’s a fifty-minute task. Why isn’t she back?”
Elliot winced at the duke’s precise calculations.
“Schedules slip sometimes… Where are you going?”
“The instructions weren’t complicated enough to warrant a delay.”
“You’re not actually going to look for her, are you?”
“…”
“You could have tea while you’re there… chat with the ladies…”
“Elliot.”
“Yes, Your Grace?”
Joseph’s tone turned dangerously calm.
“Do you know how much Anje earns for an assignment?”
“Well…”
“You do know it’s far more than your salary, don’t you?”
Elliot grimaced.
“Then maybe now’s a good time to give me a raise?”
“Quiet. Anje is, in name, my aide. With so many eyes on this household, what would people think if she’s simply lingering about?”
“That’s hardly idling. You said she should ‘read the room.’ Sharing tea and conversation is part of reading the room. For her, that is work.”
“Others fought and died for this peace,” Joseph said flatly.
“If that’s all it takes to call it work, the world has grown far too idle.”
He grasped the door handle to leave.
“Are you worried about her?” Elliot asked slyly.
“Don’t be absurd. When have I ever worried about any of you?”
If someone failed, they were dismissed—servants, aides, even retainers. Since Joseph had become duke, that rule had been simple and absolute.
Without another word, he stepped out.
“That’s just it,” Elliot muttered to the closed door. “You’ve never intervened mid-assignment before. Suspicious, isn’t it?”
The head maid brightened when she saw the duke enter the greenhouse. He had pretended indifference, but clearly his heart was otherwise.
“Why is everyone gathered here? Who’s attending the household?”
“Well… Lady Mariana said servants moving about disturbed the conversation, so she insisted on serving the tea herself. We’re all waiting here.”
“Mariana did?”
“Yes, Your Grace. She seems quite at ease in society now.”
The head maid’s face softened with pride, imagining the grand duchess’s delight.
“Then why hasn’t anyone announced my arrival?”
The maid turned to scold her subordinates, but Joseph shook his head.
“Leave it.”
His casual reply made her smile even more.
“Of course. A surprise entrance will move her all the more. Go on in; I won’t intrude.”
Joseph suspected some misunderstanding, but he had no patience to argue and strode toward the center of the greenhouse where the tea party was underway.
Yet the voice that reached him was anything but harmonious.
“—So you think yourself greatly favored by His Grace? Or are you merely under that delusion?”
Joseph stopped, slipping into the shade of a leafy tree and peering toward the source.
Had Anje done something wrong?
Several elegantly dressed young ladies, faces flushed with anger, had surrounded her.
Behind them, Mariana wrung her hands, on the verge of tears, while Hildegard stood beside her, arms crossed and smiling faintly at the spectacle.
Joseph’s expression hardened as he caught sight of Mariana’s distressed face.
I told her only to observe the atmosphere—what on earth is she doing?
What provoked him even more was Anje herself: perfectly composed, utterly unruffled.
The other ladies seemed equally irritated by her calm, and the tension thickened.
“Belf’s Beaufort family, you say? I’d never heard of such a house. Just as I suspected—what is the meaning of this, my lady?” one of them demanded.
“Please, call me Anje,” she replied serenely.
“I know your name; that’s not the point—” the young noblewoman stammered.
Anje gave her a cool glance. “Do you often forget things? Few friends, always a little left out… Is that why you’re acting like this? To impress Hildegard?”
Hildegard’s slight smile lingered as the air around the table grew sharper still.
