CHAPTER 68………………………………………………………..
“What’s all this?”
A few days later, the Duke spotted a small mountain of gift boxes piled up in one corner of the hall and turned to his butler.
So that’s why the entrance had been so noisy since morning?
He frowned at the stack of presents, already suspecting they must be gifts from the Grand Duke to Mariana.
“They were sent by the Marquis of Crow, Your Grace.”
“…What?”
The Duke thought he must have misheard.
“Who sent them?”
The butler, faced with his master’s puzzled stare, enunciated each syllable clearly.
“Mar.quis. of. Crow, sir. They’re addressed to Miss Anje.”
“Anje?”
The Duke, who had been walking past, turned back toward the pile of boxes.
Could they be poisoned? Or maybe they’ll explode?
Sending an assassin directly to the ducal house would be too risky, so perhaps the Marquis intended to kill this way instead? Knowing Crow’s usual temperament, it wasn’t an entirely unreasonable suspicion.
And since the recipient was Anje—who had interfered with the Marquis’s affairs countless times—it was even less likely that these boxes contained genuine gifts. The Duke’s expression grew grim.
“Open them.”
“Sir? But these are addressed to Miss Anje. Wouldn’t it be improper for me, a mere servant, to open them first? Even though she’s kind enough not to mind much, if she finds out I—”
“Who said she was kind?”
The Duke’s sharp tone made the butler close his mouth at once.
“She’s not particularly kind, but she is useful. And since she’s hard to replace, we’d better make sure what’s inside first. Open it.”
The butler, lips pressed tight, quickly reached for the nearest box.
“This is…!”
Inside a velvet-lined case lay a hair ornament crafted from the finest black pearls. The butler glanced up at the Duke nervously.
The delicate mother-of-pearl petals surrounding the large central pearl were exquisitely detailed.
Checking the enclosed certificate and the shop’s name, the butler gasped softly.
That single hairpin cost about as much as his yearly salary.
“Shall I keep checking?”
The Duke frowned, but motioned with his chin toward another box.
The butler hesitated, but carefully unwrapped the largest one. Inside was the box of a famous dress boutique.
When he lifted the lid, he found a light-blue gown and a full set of matching accessories.
The Duke rose from his seat and looked at the pile of gifts again.
At this point, his earlier suspicions were beginning to feel absurd.
Poisoned gifts were the stuff of old novels now. He would never have thought of such a thing—if the sender hadn’t been the Marquis of Crow.
“Bring Anje here.”
“What is it, Your Grace?”
Anje entered the office, glancing indifferently at the boxes stacked on one side, and greeted him. She was wearing the same black dress she always worked in.
The Duke knew that she owned quite a few dresses—purchased during outings with his mother and Mariana—but every time he saw her, she was dressed just as poorly as when she’d first started working here.
“Is that the only dress you have?”
After a pause, Anje slowly replied.
“No, I have two more just like it, in case of emergencies.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Watching her blankly blink, the Duke let out a sigh.
“I was joking. Of course I have others. There are several dresses Madam gave me that I haven’t even worn yet. But this one’s the most comfortable for work, so I tend to wear it often. It would be a disaster if ink splattered on a gown, after all.”
“You don’t go out wearing that too, do you?”
In truth, Anje did wear that same black dress for most of her time in the ducal mansion.
Aesthetically dreadful, yes—but incredibly practical.
“…”
The Duke clicked his tongue as she looked away, saying nothing.
“No wonder even someone like the Marquis of Crow must have pitied you.”
“…Excuse me?”
As far as Anje knew, the Marquis wasn’t someone capable of pity.
And certainly not toward her—someone who had thwarted his plans more than once.
Puzzled, she followed the Duke’s gesture toward the boxes.
“They’re gifts from the Marquis of Crow. For you.”
“For… me?”
Anje stepped closer and checked the labels, her expression growing more bewildered.
“Why would he send these to me?”
The Duke nodded slightly, his eyes glinting with amusement.
“Good question. If I didn’t know you—or the Marquis—I might think you’d sold him some secret from this household.”
“But I hardly know anything worth selling, Your Grace.”
True. The Duke only ever discussed business matters with Elliot.
“It must be a mistake, then. Perhaps the shop sent them to me by accident, when they were meant for Lady Hildegard?”
“All of them? That’s quite a mistake.”
Anje knew it didn’t make sense, but she had no other explanation.
She looked down at the boxes with a conflicted sigh.
Even for someone as fond of money as she was, these gifts carried too much unease. Her few brushes with high society had already taught her that some gifts were more trouble than they were worth.
“Aren’t you curious what’s inside? You can open them if you like.”
“No, I think I’ll return them as they are.”
“Why? Do you see that ornament there? Sorry—I got curious and opened it myself. That one alone costs a fortune. And that gown—well, you’d never need to work under me again if you sold all this. Still want to return them?”
Anje sighed.
The Duke was testing her again. Nobles really were exhausting creatures—always probing, always watching for reactions.
The higher their rank, the worse it got. Talking to them often left her feeling drained.
No wonder her coworkers hated dealing with the nobility.
“Your Grace, every item has its rightful owner. I don’t know why the Marquis sent these, and I’ve no intention of keeping things that aren’t mine. Especially not from him. …Even if selling them would bring quite a bit of money, I’d rather not invite the kind of trouble that follows the Marquis of Crow.”
The Duke’s face softened with satisfaction.
“One more time, then—are you sure you won’t regret it?”
He knew how weak she was when it came to money.
Of course, everyone liked money, but most nobles despised the very act of valuing it. They spent carelessly, ruined themselves, and raised daughters who couldn’t even add.
But Anje—a commoner—could calculate, read, write, and even spoke several foreign tongues. The Duke respected that.
And now, she even knew when not to take money. Smart indeed.
“Regret? Hardly. Speaking of which, Your Grace, Sir Elliot asked me to remind you about signing the payroll documents. The knights’ wages are due the day after tomorrow, and he’s in a bit of a rush.”
“Good girl.”
The sudden praise made Anje frown.
Unbothered, the Duke went on.
“Do you have plans this afternoon?”
“The usual, Your Grace. Some clerical work, then tea with Lady Mariana.”
She would finish her minor duties, enjoy a short teatime with Mariana, handle the remaining paperwork, then report to the Duke over dinner.
After that, she’d either read or catch up on work late into the night—or sometimes, slip out quietly on secret errands.
A peaceful routine, in its own way.
“The young lady said a new tart shop opened in town, and it’s incredible.”
Mariana had promised to let her try every flavor, so Anje had even been eating lightly since yesterday—saving room, full of anticipation.
