Chapter 28
Anze Beaufort
“Do you think Hildegard has feelings for Count Martin?”
Marianna whispered to Anze as she examined the lace samples hanging on a rod.
Besides Anze’s small group, a few other noble ladies were enjoying their shopping inside the boutique. Now and then Marianna sensed glances of recognition, but Anze kept her eyes fixed on the lace, pretending not to notice.
“Maybe she’s just trying to make your brother jealous. He’s been awfully inattentive, hasn’t he? The moment those invitations went out, people must have been in an uproar.”
Ever since hearing that Hildegard planned to attend with Count Martin, Marianna had been positively giddy.
Like most noble marriages, Marianna assumed her brother and Hildegard would wed eventually, whatever small dramas occurred along the way. Everyone in society already treated it as fact.
The unexpected variable was Count Martin, who had suddenly volunteered to escort Hildegard.
Perhaps he had truly fallen in love with her.
The thought made Marianna’s heart flutter. Her brother was formidable, but she knew how frightening he could be as a rival.
Is the count not even afraid of him?
A love triangle—what a thought.
Picturing Count Martin’s striking features, Marianna cupped her cheeks, her face turning pink.
“Marianna!”
Anze tapped her shoulder, breaking her reverie.
“You’re thinking about Count Martin again, aren’t you? Is he really that handsome?”
“Mmh. Maybe it’s because he spent so many years abroad, but his sun-warmed skin is so attractive. And the way he smiles so freely and speaks with that gentle accent—you should see it yourself.”
“Hmm.”
Marianna, still holding her cheek, looked every bit a girl in the throes of first love.
Anze, unfolding a pale yellow lace sample, asked lightly, “Don’t you ever think about romance yourself?”
“Eh?”
Marianna blinked, startled. Anze glanced around; no one seemed to be listening, but caution never hurt. She drew Marianna a little closer and murmured,
“I’ve never heard who your partner might be, that’s all.”
“Well… um…” Marianna faltered, then suddenly brightened.
“My partners are you and my brother, of course. You were supposed to go with me first, remember? My brother just cut in. We can all go together—well, maybe that would look odd? Then perhaps Mother and—”
Anze frowned.
It was a habit she’d developed since moving into the duke’s household; no amount of scolding from the duchess about “unladylike expressions” had broken it.
“I just don’t see why you’ve no interest in romance. You’re so beautiful.”
Anze tilted her head, still wondering at the faint golden shimmer of Marianna’s innate energy—a glow she had yet to understand.
“….”
“Marianna?”
Marianna lowered her head, eyes suddenly shadowed, tears welling.
Why would such a simple question make her so sad?
Flustered, Anze shifted like a restless puppy until Joshi approached.
“My lady, we should return before etiquette class begins. You know how Madam Riena detests lateness.”
“…All right. I’ll wait in the carriage.”
Marianna swept out, leaving Anze staring after her.
“You should hurry as well,” Joshi reminded.
“Mm.”
They left the shop together. After checking the nearly deserted street, Joshi lowered her voice.
“Who wouldn’t want to fall in love? But after what happened at the Academy, Lady Marianna can’t bring herself to trust anyone—man or woman. Honestly, the fact she gets along with you feels like a miracle. Before the Academy she was so bright and confident….”
“What do you mean?”
“You know she isn’t the duchess’s birth daughter, right?”
It wasn’t a secret. When Marianna turned seven, the late duke had openly announced her adoption, believing there was nothing to hide.
“Neither His Grace nor the duchess ever treated her differently. The duchess had always wished for a daughter, but after bearing His Grace there were no more children. Everyone in the household cherished Marianna.”
“Then what happened?” Anze’s face hardened.
“Since His Grace attended the Academy, the duchess naturally expected Marianna to go as well—wanting to give her everything equally. Marianna was delighted… but reality was cruel.”
Joshi’s brow furrowed as she sighed.
“That was when I learned how vicious people can be.”
“…”
“It started so subtly you could barely call it bullying at first. They’d greet her warmly, make friends, then drag her along on shopping trips where she paid for everything.”
Anze’s eyebrow arched.
“They claimed it was only proper for a duke’s daughter to cover the costs. At first, thinking them true friends, she did. But it kept happening—each time they chose the most expensive places, using her status as the solitary heiress of House Side as an excuse.”
Joshi’s voice trembled.
“And behind her back they spread rumors: that she was vain, flaunting her wealth. Worse were the malicious lies about her birth. I can’t tell you how many outrageous things happened while I served her there. If I felt this angry, imagine how she felt.”
Anze rubbed her forehead, scowling.
“Marianna was even more innocent back then than now. That kind of baseless malice must have been unbearable. And to make it worse, she secretly liked one of the young men involved.”
Anze let out a long breath. Joshi glanced at her nervously.
“After all that, she struggles to trust people. Thanks to you she’s improved, but romance? That’s still difficult.”
“But she’s of an age where, once your brother marries, she’ll be expected to find a match.”
“She knows. But she also knows that society marriages are mostly political contracts. She says a loveless, purely strategic marriage might actually feel easier. Of course, neither the duke nor the duchess knows she feels this way.”
Anze cocked her head. “Sounds like her heart tells a different story.”
“Uh… she’s probably waiting in the carriage,” Joshi said, trying to change the subject.
Anze didn’t budge, so Joshi reluctantly continued.
“The duke and duchess love her dearly and keep a quiet watch. Bullying is common enough, but if they interfered, it could have made things worse. And Lady Marianna herself didn’t want them to know.”
Frustration creased Joshi’s face as she tapped her toe.
“It’s maddening. If it were up to me, I’d have His Grace teach those bullies a hard lesson.”
Anze slipped a notebook and pen from her sleeve and stepped closer.
“Do you remember the names of those who tormented her?”
“Of course. How could I forget?”
“Then, tell me.”
“…Why?”
“I have a use for them. Maybe not soon, but eventually.”
Anze smiled, pen poised.
“Well… let’s see….”
Joshi recalled each family and name, and Anze wrote them down carefully.
When she finished, Anze’s smile widened.
“As the saying goes: repay kindness twice over, but vengeance fourfold.”
“What?” Joshi’s eyes widened.
“It’s a thing. Come on—Lady Marianna’s waiting. Let’s go.”
Tucking the notebook and pen into the pocket hidden in her skirts, Anze jerked her chin toward the street.
The look she wore now had a hint of roguishness, a far cry from her usual neat demeanor, and Joshi hesitated before following.
“You said the etiquette teacher is strict, right? Better hurry. If we’re late, I’m blaming you.”
“You can’t do that!” Joshi sputtered, rushing to catch up.
