CHAPTER~06
Pretty Body
Late afternoon, when the sunlight had started to hold a golden hue.
A carriage entered the Glaston estate.
“Welcome, Ibône.”
The person who greeted Ibône as she stepped down from the carriage was Carlyle Glaston’s wife, Cedric’s Stepmother.
Ibône smiled and bowed politely, hiding the shadow that had followed her in the carriage all the way here.
“Good afternoon, Madam.”
“I’m grateful that such a gem of a young lady, who has not even debuted in society yet, has come so willingly.”
“I am the one who is thankful to have a chance to learn from you, Madam.”
Unlike the careful, polite words she had used before, these words came genuinely from her heart.
Thanks to this, she had gained the opportunity to leave the duke’s mansion.
“How nicely you speak.”
Cedric’s Stepmother seemed quite pleased with the perfunctory compliment.
Ibône took the chance to speak carefully.
“Madam, if our lesson runs late, it may become late in the day.
Would it be alright if I send back the coachman and borrow your carriage instead?”
“Oh, of course. That’s perfectly fine.”
She patted Ibône’s arm affectionately and spoke to the butler standing nearby.
“Take responsibility for seeing Miss Ibône home, and let the coachman return first.”
Hearing that, Ibône’s heart started racing.
Things were going according to plan.
She hid her joy and followed Cedric’s Stepmother into the mansion.
Even though the Leroua estate was impressive and vast, the Glaston estate, despite being a wealthy commoner family, was spacious and splendid as well.
As Ibône carefully glanced around the interior, Cedric’s Stepmother spoke.
“I heard from the Duke. The Duchess has been quite unwell.”
Her tone was cautious, showing she knew that Isabella wasn’t just physically ill, but had mental problems.
Isabella had gone mad after the ‘real Ibône’ died.
More precisely, before she could even hold her daughter’s funeral, a fake daughter appeared, making her unable to mourn properly, leaving her speechless.
Logan had kept this fact hidden, presenting Isabella simply as ‘a wife driven mad by illness.’
But the reason he told Cedric’s Stepmother about Isabella was merely a pretext.
“From now on, you’ll also become part of that household, so it’s not bad to learn the internal situation beforehand.”
The reason Logan sent Ibône to the Glaston estate, even bringing up Isabella, was the same as why he had taken in the fake daughter.
It was to slowly consume Glaston from within.
Cedric’s Stepmother smiled warmly as she led Ibône to the sitting room, perhaps unaware of the deeper intentions.
“Now that you are becoming family, think of this house as home, and me as your mother.”
When they reached the sitting room, the maid serving tea quietly withdrew.
Ibône took the appropriately cooled teacup in hand.
At that moment, she felt Cedric’s Stepmother’s gaze on her.
Her hand holding the teacup froze.
But the hesitation lasted only a moment.
She drank the tea as she had been taught: elegantly, carefully, and without haste.
Like a noble young lady.
However, the gaze inspecting her did not leave; it traveled over her body as well.
It returned to Ibône’s face when she put down the teacup.
Cedric’s Stepmother, following her, also placed her teacup down and apologized.
“Sorry, I stared too much, didn’t I?”
Her face showed no real remorse.
“It’s fine,” Ibône replied.
“I’m envious, that’s why. I was once young and beautiful like this….”
Cedric’s Stepmother now blatantly inspected Ibône’s body without hiding it.
“I heard you were sick a lot as a child, but you’re fine now, right? Are your cycles regular?”
“Yes, usually,” Ibône replied, smiling out of habit.
The praise brought her no real joy.
“The real bridal lessons will start in two weeks. You’ll be busy preparing for the upcoming ball anyway.”
Indeed, the Leroua estate had a ball scheduled next week for Ibône’s delayed social debut and to officially announce Derrick’s engagement.
Ibône wondered why she had been summoned today, and Cedric’s Stepmother seemed to read her thoughts.
“The reason I summoned you today is to give you a gift.”
She shook a bell on the table, and a maid came in to place a flat velvet box in front of Ibône.
Inside the opened box were pills individually wrapped in paper.
“These help with successful conception. Simply put, you can think of them as health pills.”
“Ah….”
Ibône stared blankly at the pills. It was an unexpected gift.
“I will teach you everything else gradually, but for now, focus on conceiving.”
“….”
“Since he has been away, the household feels lonely. I believe your father wants a great-grandchild as well.”
“…I see.”
“So your responsibility, Ibône, is immense. As you know, marriage is a union between families, and a child completes that union. That responsibility falls to you.”
Whether as noble ‘Ibône’ or commoner ‘Adel,’ the expectations placed on a young woman were the same.
Ibône felt a complex mix of gratitude and bitterness at this realization.
“With that in mind, I think it’s wise to take care of your body from now. What do you think, Ibône?”
Cedric’s Stepmother asked for her consent, but Ibône had only one answer.
She smiled faintly and replied,
“Thank you for caring, Madam.”
“See, daughters are kind and thoughtful. I act with their best interests in mind. I wish Derrick would understand a mother’s heart…”
Though her words sounded like a complaint, her tone revealed deep love for her son.
“Shall we take one now? If it’s too difficult, I can provide an alternative.”
Ibône carefully picked up one pill.
It was small, about the size of a fingertip, with a bitter herbal smell.
For Adel, who had grown up running errands in her mother’s herbal shop, the smell was familiar.
It also reminded her of her sick mother.
But until today, she had only prepared the medicine for her mother, never taken it herself.
“Thank you, my daughter.”
Thinking of her mother, always thankful and apologetic, Ibône chewed the pill thoroughly.
The first time she had ever eaten one, it was extremely bitter.
The sunset painted the sky gold.
Cedric Glaston, having finished negotiations at the hotel, loosened his cravat and got into the waiting carriage.
That concluded today’s schedule.
He casually placed his jacket on the seat beside him.
His gaze froze on the jacket.
It was the same jacket. The one rejected by that woman.
Recalling the white face that had ignored him at the funeral, Cedric twisted his lips and thought of the tasks ahead.
He asked Blan, who followed him into the carriage,
“What’s tomorrow’s schedule?”
“A meeting with Hilburn will be at noon, and in the evening, there is a ball at the Seymour estate.”
“…A ball?”
Cedric furrowed his brows.
The Leroua girl had not formally debuted in society yet.
He had heard she would make her debut at the duke’s ball next week, so there was no reason to attend any earlier ball.
Yet he hadn’t scheduled one. Especially at a time so chaotic after his father’s funeral.
Blan seized the chance to complain.
“Lord Carlyle scheduled it. Lately, he glares at me every time he sees me. He didn’t even allow Derrick’s engagement to proceed!”
Blan mimicked Carlyle Glaston’s sharp eyes with her fingers, then shivered as she remembered them.
Cedric sighed in exasperation.
“You’re so impatient. He’ll handle things himself.”
“Handle things yourself? Surely… you don’t intend to marry His Highness the Prince, do you?”
Who would dare? Cedric’s cold glare dismissed Blan’s nonsense immediately.
Overwhelmed, she coughed and returned to the point.
“Anyway, quickly find a suitable lady to marry. Derrick’s fiancée seems about to take over Glaston.”
“Why her?”
“Didn’t you know? Starting today, she’s attending bridal lessons at the estate. Cedric’s Stepmother will be her instructor.”
“What about the duchess?”
“I heard the duchess is mentally unstable… or maybe it’s just an excuse to slowly swallow Glaston from within.”
Everyone, including Cedric’s Stepmother, knew the Leroua duke was pursuing the marriage to claim Glaston wealth.
Yet, since both sides had something to gain, they agreed.
But what about the girl? Was she like her father, or an innocent victim of his ambition?
‘Well, it doesn’t really matter.’
Either way, with proper kindness and flattery, he could get what he wanted.
Sending the duke’s daughter to the Glaston estate was an opportunity for Cedric.
While pondering how to use it, Cedric casually looked out the window and saw the Glaston carriage arrive.
It stopped at the corner of the square, and a small woman stepped out.
It was Ibône Leroua, the same woman.
As the carriage left, she looked around, pulled the hood of her cape over her head, and entered the alley.
Cedric chuckled.
A woman who rejected him and kept secrets.
He turned to Blan, who looked at him puzzled, and commanded,
“Stop the carriage.”
