CHAPTER 44……………………………..
. It Makes No Sense, But (1)
“Milady, you really must get up now!”
Josh threw open the curtains with a voice full of cheer.
The stabbing sunlight that pierced through Anje’s closed eyelids made her want to cry.
She was sick and tired of balls. Absolutely done with them.
“Josh, I think I was wrong.”
Anje mumbled from under the blanket that covered her head completely.
“What do you mean, milady?”
“I used to think noble ladies never had to lift anything heavier than a teacup.”
Josh, who could already guess what she was about to say, let out a small laugh.
“For a month now, you haven’t even been eating properly—watching your figure, your skin, all that. But that’s nothing. The real ordeal begins once the ball starts. You have to wake up before sunrise, spend hours dressing and decorating yourself, fix your makeup again and again, sometimes even change dresses. And those dresses are heavy, aren’t they? To think you have to dance in them, too…”
Josh sighed lightly.
“It’s definitely no easy task.”
But even while agreeing, he suddenly yanked away the blanket covering Anje.
“Come now, you’re already late. Lady Mariana has been ready for quite some time.”
“Do I really have to go? Even on the last day?”
“What kind of talk is that? Of course you must go. It’s the most important day.”
“Why is it so important…”
Anje muttered drowsily, eyes still closed. Josh pulled her up by force.
“It’s the day they announce this year’s Lady of the Year. You’ve worked so hard for today! Of course you must go. Besides…”
Lowering his voice, Josh continued.
“To tell the truth, the other servants of Primrose Hill and I placed a little bet. We all put our money on you, milady.”
“‘We’ meaning who exactly?”
Anje, her face still buried in her pillow to avoid the sunlight, asked in a sleepy voice.
“All the duke’s servants. The head chef, the gardener, the laundry maids, the kitchen maids, the cleaning maids, the errand boys—even the head housemaid. Some wagered a copper, others a silver coin. Let’s see… altogether, it must come to at least one gold.”
One… gold. One gold?
That was a servant’s entire year’s wages!
Anje’s drowsiness vanished in an instant. Her eyes flew open wide.
“What? That’s insane! Do they have nothing better to do than throw away their hard-earned money?”
She could understand placing a few coppers for fun. But this was ridiculous.
It wasn’t even a wager with any real chance of winning—and one whole gold coin?
“Go cancel it. Tell them to take it back.”
“As servants of the ducal house, we have our pride. We can’t do that.”
“Don’t you think pride’s worth less than one gold coin?”
Josh froze mid-motion as he was tidying the bed.
He put a hand on his hip and gave her a serious look.
“Oh, my. Milady, I didn’t think you were the type to look down on us servants. Are you really asking us to sell our pride for a mere gold coin?”
“Josh, you know that’s not what I meant.”
Josh, watching Anje clutching her hair in frustration, finally broke into laughter.
“So it was a joke, right, Josh?”
“Not a joke, milady. You’d better wash up now. Everyone really did pool their money together. If you don’t become Lady of the Year, they’ll all lose it. You know what kind of money that is? Money saved by skipping meals, by not buying things they wanted. Even the little kitchen maid bet half her weekly wage. So you must win. Absolutely.”
“Haa…”
Why did everyone in this household—masters and servants alike—refuse to give up on anything?
“This is the dress Lady Mariana sent especially for today.”
“…”
The moment she saw it, Anje was struck speechless.
The dress, the color of spring lilacs, was the latest masterpiece by Madame Charles for the season.
It wasn’t a dress so much as a work of art.
Everyone had coveted it, but the price had been so outrageous that while others hesitated, the duchess had bought it for Mariana.
And now Mariana was giving it to her.
Overwhelmed, Anje shut her eyes tightly.
Why were they all working so hard for something that was impossible anyway? Were they trying to embarrass her to death? No matter how fancy she dressed, she had no chance of becoming Lady of the Year.
Even if it’s just the servants, fine—but why Mariana? She’s seen with her own eyes how beautiful the other ladies are.
Though she knew the dress was a gift of affection, resentment welled up inside her all the same.
“You know, this year’s prize is a diamond tiara. They say it’s worth over a thousand gold coins.”
“…”
“Can you imagine how beautiful Lady Anje Beaufort will look, wearing that tiara as Lady of the Year?”
“Is that true, Josh?”
A thousand-gold tiara on her head would be like pearls on a pig, but still…
“Josh.”
“Yes, milady?”
“Would you get the makeup ready while I wash?”
A tiara worth over a thousand gold…
He really should’ve led with that.
With renewed determination, Anje marched into the bath.
* * *
At last, the final night of the ball.
Hildegarde entered the ballroom more splendidly dressed than ever—but her expression soon soured.
“Grace.”
At her low call, Grace Platt hurried up and leaned close.
“What on earth are they all doing over there? How disgraceful.”
“Ah! That…”
In the far corner of the ballroom—where the wallflowers who’d failed to be chosen by anyone usually gathered—stood a long line of finely dressed young ladies.
At the very front was a single ornate armchair, as if it were a throne.
Grace, who was supposed to stand in that line herself, bit her lip at Hildegarde’s question.
It wasn’t as if Hildegarde didn’t know. She just wanted to hear it said aloud.
“They’re… seeking Lady Beaufort’s advice, since she apparently has such a sharp eye for things…”
Hildegarde’s eyes widened in disbelief at Grace’s stammering reply.
“Advice? What could that country bumpkin possibly know? Have they no shame?”
Beaufort… from Belph, wasn’t she?
A rural village in the eastern province—Hildegarde hadn’t even known such a place existed in the Empire until she’d looked it up on a map herself.
And that very act had been humiliating. Why should she have to go to the trouble of looking up some peasant girl’s hometown?
Her irritation flared, and Grace became the target.
“You’re giving me a headache with that fan. Stop fluttering it.”
Had Grace realized she’d been caught hanging around Anje lately? Flustered, she quickly lowered her gaze.
“It’s probably just curiosity. It’ll pass soon enough.”
“Base curiosity, you mean.”
“Y–yes, of course.”
Hildegarde snapped for no real reason.
What’s gotten into her?
Grace, who had to take the brunt of it simply for being nearby, pouted resentfully. She wasn’t even Hildegarde’s maid.
Then she suddenly realized—there really was no one else around Hildegarde.
The lady who was always followed by a string of noble girls eager to curry favor now stood alone. Once, young gentlemen had practically drawn numbers for the privilege of dancing with her at balls, yet tonight, the space around her felt strangely empty.
Scanning the room, Grace noticed a circle of men gathered around Baron Miller, smoke rising as they chatted over cigars.
They must be waiting for the Duke.
And sure enough, as Duke Seid entered with Anje Beaufort on his arm, both the gentlemen and the ladies divided across the ballroom turned their attention toward them in delight.
The duke raised a hand in greeting—then, with perfect ease, brushed his lips against Anje Beaufort’s cheek.
“Oh my goodness!”
“Compose yourself, lady. It’s just a greeting.”
Scolding the flustered Grace, Hildegarde narrowed her eyes, glaring at Anje and the Duke.
It’s nothing. Calm down.
If Duke Seid had any sense at all, he wouldn’t get involved with a woman like Anje Beaufort. Surely it was just a show, meant to provoke her.
But still…
She knew that. She knew.
Yet the fan in Hildegarde’s hand snapped clean in two.
