CHAPTER 52………………………….
. The Marquis of Crow’s Visit
The duke’s aide was a woman — and not just any woman, but the daughter of a fallen baronial family, just like herself. Even before meeting Anje, Marianna had already felt a sense of kinship with her.
Even if Anje hadn’t gone out of her way to help her, even if she hadn’t offered her honest counsel, Marianna would probably have liked her anyway.
And then, as if that weren’t enough, Anje had found the long-lost heirloom of the family, Ahendel, and even saved Marianna from falling into Count Martin’s clutches.
But now she said she would return to her original quarters, since her work was done.
Of course, her “original quarters” were just the servants’ wing downstairs — so it was really a matter of how one chose to see it.
“If I think about this room without you in it, it feels like being abandoned.”
Though she knew it was childish for her age, Marianna’s eyebrows drooped.
“This area is for the duke’s family members, my lady.”
“Friends stay here too.”
“Friends… don’t get paid. To everyone else, I’m just a servant.”
It was a cold, decisive answer — but Marianna only pouted, refusing to return the bag she was holding hostage.
“What do other people’s eyes matter? If I think of you as a friend, then you’re a friend. And besides, you get paid by my brother, not me, so it’s none of my business anyway.”
At Marianna’s unwavering attitude, Anje gave an awkward smile.
“My lady, you’ve changed a little, haven’t you?”
Didn’t Josh say something like that to me not long ago?
The familiar words made Marianna frown slightly in thought. Tightening her grip on the bag, she shook her head.
“I don’t care. You’re not changing rooms. That’s an order.”
“My lady…”
In truth, Anje had a reason for wanting to move back to the servants’ quarters.
The room she occupied now was a side chamber attached to Marianna’s own — which meant it was uncomfortably close to the duke’s. Because of that, she ended up running into Duke Seide far too often.
It even felt like she was working longer hours because of it.
No, that’s just my imagination.
After all, she’d been used to constant late nights before this; if anything, the actual hours had lessened lately.
But sharing the same space meant constantly bumping into the duke, and that made her feel like she was working even during her breaks — which led to a creeping sense of exhaustion.
And having to dine with him every evening didn’t exactly help her quality of life either.
“Please, give me the bag, my lady. It’s only downstairs.”
“Exactly — it’s only downstairs, so why bother moving? I barely use this room anyway. No one will say anything to you!”
What started as calm persuasion in Marianna’s voice rose higher and higher until she was practically shouting.
“But…”
Just as Anje began to reply, the door suddenly burst open and the Duchess entered.
Marianna instantly smoothed her expression into her usual demure calm.
“Mother, you’re here.”
The Duchess’s gaze swept over the two women in turn.
“Were you two arguing?”
“No!”
“No, ma’am.”
They shook their heads in unison, then exchanged sheepish glances.
“How lovely.”
What?
Marianna and Anje exchanged puzzled looks at the unexpected remark, as the Duchess took a seat by the window.
“So, tell me — what were you raising your voices about?”
“Mother, Anje says she wants to move rooms.”
“My work is finished, and this room feels far too fine for someone of my station.”
The Duchess lifted her fan, cutting Anje off mid-sentence, then cast a new, thoughtful glance around the room.
“Yes, I suppose you should move rooms.”
“Mother…”
Marianna’s voice took on an uncharacteristically pleading tone. The Duchess smiled gently at her.
“The side chamber is quite small, isn’t it? Don’t you think so, Marianna?”
Marianna’s eyes widened in realization, and she nodded so quickly it looked like her neck might snap.
“Yes, right, it is small. Definitely.”
“I was thinking — what if we refurnish the guest room across the hall for Anje instead?”
“I’d love that, Mother.”
What’s going on?
Whatever it was, it clearly wasn’t turning out as Anje had hoped. Her eyes grew colder as she looked between the perfectly in-sync mother and daughter.
“Madam, I really think returning to the servants’ quarters would be best for me…”
Anje spoke cautiously.
But the Duchess acted as if she hadn’t heard a word.
“What color wallpaper shall we use?”
“How about that pale ivory paper we saw at Viscount Harold’s estate? Tiny flower prints are out of fashion now. Curtains, too — simple designs are more in style than ornate ones.”
“Quite right, don’t you think? Perhaps we should redo your room as well while we’re at it, Marianna.”
“I’d love that.”
And so, no one was listening to Anje anymore.
As the carriage rolled up the winding road toward Duke Seide’s mansion, the Marquis of Crow’s fierce black brows twitched.
That sly bastard!
His gaze turned dark and stormy as he looked up at the grand, ornate mansion perched high on the hill.
The morning had started overcast, and now a fine drizzle was falling. Rainy days always made the old Marquis’s bones ache — and with them, his mood soured further.
To have to visit a place he didn’t even want to look at in this miserable weather!
It was all his own fault, of course — for taking only a verbal promise from Baron Miller that he’d sell him his shares — but the Marquis would never admit that.
No, it was the ball’s fault. It was that meddling aide of the Duke’s, who’d suddenly appeared out of nowhere, pushed aside his granddaughter, and snatched the title of “Lady of the Year” or whatever it was. And above all, it was the fault of his foolish granddaughter.
Nothing had gone right lately.
Perhaps because the grand ball was approaching, the whole city was restless. Baron Miller had kept making excuses to avoid meeting him, and if the Marquis hadn’t stormed into the baron’s estate unannounced, the man would’ve slithered away again like a fish.
And in the end, all that effort had been for nothing.
Seething with frustration, the Marquis jabbed his cane hard against the floor of the carriage.
He’d known something was off when he saw Duke Seide and Baron Miller whispering together at the edge of the ballroom all night.
He’d even sent his men to keep watch on them — and finally, he’d stepped in himself to try and break up their cozy conversation.
At the time, they’d just exchanged polite, meaningless words. But the moment the ball ended, the news came:
Baron Miller had sold all his department store shares to Duke Seide.
“Your Excellency, we’ve arrived.”
Before the coachman could open the door, the Marquis shoved it open himself with his cane and climbed down, grunting in pain.
The coachman, cowed by his master’s fierce temper, didn’t dare to offer a hand.
“Hmph!”
As the Marquis stood scowling and prodding the ground with his cane, a butler emerged from the mansion.
“How may I help you, sir?”
Since there had been no appointment, it was a natural question.
The Marquis slammed his cane down with a crack and glared.
“Do you not know who I am?”
“I do, sir.”
Max Rufus, the Duke’s butler, took great pride in his position. But this kind of boorish behavior was a first, even for him.
Yes, he knew this was the Marquis of Crow — but to show up unannounced and already angry? That was a bad sign.
Should I call for the knights?
If the Marquis caused a scene, it would be disastrous. Yet sending him away would be equally dangerous — this was a man who possessed money and power, if not manners.
Max was caught in an impossible dilemma when a calm voice spoke from behind him.
“His Grace says to show the Marquis in.”
Turning, he saw Anje standing there with her usual gentle smile.
“But Lady Beaufort,” Max began hesitantly, “the Marquis came without notice—”
“I know. But still.”
We can’t just turn him away.
She left the rest unsaid, giving a small shrug.
How the Marquis had even gotten past the gates of Primrose Hill without an appointment was a mystery — but sending him back now would be just as improper.
Especially since this was the infamous Marquis of Crow, known for pointing out the specks in others’ eyes while ignoring the beams in his own.
Bowing politely, Anje greeted the Marquis — and out of habit, she mentally assessed his fortune.
“Oh dear…”
What a selfish, ill-tempered, impossible man. Anje clicked her tongue inwardly.
His chart showed heavy karma and destructive energy; the fierce glint in his eyes and the tight line of his lips revealed a nature as harsh as his fate.
“You wretched—! Did you just click your tongue at me?”
Oops. Realizing her mistake, Anje quickly smoothed her expression.
“How could I dare, Your Excellency? I nearly stepped on a sharp stone just now — startled me so much, I made a sound without thinking.”
Even with her smooth excuse, the Marquis — who would normally have erupted by now — said nothing.
He stared at her for a long moment. Not glaring, exactly, but watching.
And somehow, that was even more unsettling. People like him didn’t just change.
Feeling a cold bead of sweat trickle down her back, Anje forced a polite smile.
“Shall we go inside, Your Excellency?”
