Episode 8
For the record, Helene agreed to me coming here. So, my intentions are the same as hers.
“I’ll see you again later.”
I’ll be checking up on it later, so act accordingly.
Without waiting to see their reactions, I supported Illina again.
Thankfully, on our way out of the hallway this time, no one said a word.
* * *
Illina couldn’t lift her head.
In the women’s lounge of the banquet hall—far more luxurious than her own room—she had just vomited stomach acid.
She didn’t have the courage to look at Wilhelmina, who was sitting across from her.
‘What have I done?!’
If she could turn back time, she felt she’d be willing to sell her soul to the devil.
To make a mistake with her greeting and nearly throw up at a banquet attended by her fiancé—and in front of the Duke’s household no less.
If Wilhelmina hadn’t stepped in at the last minute and taken control, the star of the banquet wouldn’t have been the border margrave, but Illina herself.
‘The Duchess Dowager…’
Only then did Illina sneak a glance at Wilhelmina, who sat silently with her chin resting on her hand and her legs crossed.
From afar, her features had seemed sharp, but up close, the atmosphere she gave off was quite different.
‘She’s so… young.’
Rumors about Wilhelmina had recently become too numerous to count on both hands within high society.
The fifth wife brought in by the late Duke, who had become a widow before even holding the wedding.
A woman of unclear status who, thanks to the generous Duke’s family, was lucky enough to be addressed as the “Duchess Dowager.”
Naturally, most of the rumors were negative—constructed in a way that benefited the Duke’s household and painted Wilhelmina in a bad light.
The sharp-minded might have quickly guessed where those rumors came from, but in high society, people were far more interested in scandal than in facts.
So Illina hadn’t expected much from Wilhelmina either.
Her parents had dismissed Wilhelmina as someone who would “end up locked in a room soon enough.”
‘But… she doesn’t seem like that kind of person.’
She didn’t look like someone who’d obediently resign herself to solitude. Nor like someone who would meekly live off the Duke’s family by clinging to their favor.
In fact, the way she had taken command just before leaving the banquet hall had been worthy of a true member of the ducal house.
“Are you done?”
“Ah!”
Wilhelmina had turned toward her at some point and spoke in a quiet voice.
“You can handle some milk, right?”
“Y-Yes.”
As soon as they had arrived in the lounge, Wilhelmina had scooped honey into a teapot full of warm milk brought by a servant.
So much honey that it would have made anyone watching worried about gaining weight.
“Here.”
After stirring it quickly with a teaspoon, she filled a teacup nearly to the brim and handed it to Illina.
“Th-Thank you.”
Receiving the precariously full teacup, Illina glanced around nervously before finally bringing the cup to her lips.
‘It’s delicious!’
“Nice, right? They use really good milk here.”
The flavor that spread through her mouth made Illina instinctively gasp in delight.
The creamy fat that coated her palate, the generous sweetness of the honey that spread across her tongue, and the fragrant scent that tickled her nose—
Even just one sip had her empty stomach rejoicing with wild enthusiasm.
‘Still… I shouldn’t drink more.’
After a big sip, Illina forced herself to set the teacup down. Wilhelmina frowned slightly at the gesture.
“Why’d you stop? Don’t like it?”
“N-No, it’s delicious. I’m so grateful for the Duchess Dowager’s hospitality…”
“Then drink more.”
“I-I’m fine with just this much.”
Just as she tried to decline, her stomach let out a loud, gurgling growl.
Clearly, her belly disagreed that a single sip was enough, and Illina’s face turned bright red.
“You’re not fine at all.”
“……”
Wilhelmina looked at her with exasperation, then got up from her seat and approached the chair where Illina was sitting.
“D-Duchess Dowager?”
“Hold still.”
She reached out to Illina’s back, unfastened the dress ties without hesitation, and slipped her hand inside.
“Eep!”
Illina flinched as Wilhelmina’s fingers touched her bare skin and tried to pull away, but Wilhelmina didn’t let go. Instead, she held her even more firmly.
“Duchess Dowager! Y-You can’t do this!”
Could she have… a secret taste she doesn’t want others to know about?
Just as wild delusions began to form in Illina’s mind, Wilhelmina’s hand moved from her back to her sides, and then to the front.
“Oh, the hook’s in the front.”
“Eek!”
With another small movement of her fingers—click—the clasp came undone. The tight corset was loosened in an instant.
Along with a feeling of liberation in her chest and abdomen, the belly she’d been trying to hide spilled out. Illina quickly covered it with her hands.
“N-No!”
Since her dress had been tightened with the corset, the bodice now looked like it might burst at the seams.
“We can loosen this too.”
Wilhelmina removed the dress pins and undid the ties.
“Ahh!”
Her sides and back became partially exposed in an instant, and Illina bent forward to cover herself.
“Here, wear this.”
Wilhelmina fetched a massive overcoat from the coat rack in the lounge—so big that even a man wouldn’t wear it.
It was so fluffy that, if not for its shape, it could have been mistaken for a feather comforter.
She draped it over Illina’s shoulders and returned to her seat.
Illina felt like she’d been hit by a whirlwind. Her corset and dress were half-undone, but the oversized coat kept her warm.
“W-What is this…?”
“No one’s coming in, don’t worry. Just finish the milk. Doesn’t your back feel better now that the corset’s off?”
It did. The corset, which she even wore while sleeping, was gone, and now her chest didn’t ache every time she took a deep breath. The suffocating abdominal pressure had vanished, and her aching lower back felt freer.
“S-Still, I’m not supposed to loosen my corset. I was told I need to wear it until I get married to keep my waist thin…”
“Loosening it for a bit won’t make a difference. Don’t worry.”
“And if I drink this, I’ll gain—”
“You won’t.”
Illina wanted to argue, but Wilhelmina’s words carried a strange weight.
She didn’t offer any evidence, but her conviction was stronger than that of any corset boutique.
And despite the chaotic events earlier, Wilhelmina was still the Duchess Dowager, regardless of rumors. Illina wasn’t in a position to disobey her.
Hiding her anxiety, she raised the teacup.
‘…It’s delicious.’
Negative thoughts disappeared as soon as the milk hit her stomach, leaving her in bliss. Now that her abdomen was freer, she could drink the milk more smoothly.
The warm liquid slid down her throat and heated her stomach, bringing a relaxed look to Illina’s face.
“I didn’t want to give you unnecessary advice, considering the times, but… you should switch to a bigger corset.”
“But this one’s the most popular…”
Illina muttered softly, and Wilhelmina clicked her tongue loudly enough to be heard.
“Just because everyone else is doing it, doesn’t mean it’s good for you. You need to have your own sense of self.”
It was a direct rejection of the current high society beauty trends.
Illina blinked, not fully understanding.
“I’m not trying to debate beauty standards. But you need to be healthy for beauty to matter. Do you even know what you look like right now?”
“D-Do I look strange?”
She had done her best to dress up—was something wrong?
Illina set the teacup down and looked at herself. Up close, she noticed her makeup had faded around her chest.
“Oh, I need to reapply here…”
“Pale skin isn’t the problem.”
Among the younger generation, pale, un-sunned skin had become a symbol of beauty.
Wilhelmina sighed and pointed at Illina’s stomach.
“Doesn’t your belly hurt?”
“Not really…”
“Liar. If you’ve been wearing that every day, you must be constipated too.”
At the word “constipation,” Illina’s face turned red again.
“Duchess Dowager!”
“What? Embarrassed? You weren’t embarrassed when you nearly threw up in front of everyone at the banquet?”
“T-That was…”
Illina’s voice cracked with emotion. The shame of her earlier mistake came flooding back.
Wilhelmina sighed and ran a hand through her hair.
“I understand wanting to be more beautiful than others. But that doesn’t mean you should sacrifice your health.”
“My father told me I need to be thinner…”
“You planning to marry your father?”
“I’m going to marry my fiancé!”
“So does your fiancé say he doesn’t like women who aren’t thin?”
“Hans never said anything like that!”
Illina shouted, thinking of her gentle fiancé. Wilhelmina’s eyebrows twitched at the sharp tone.
“Well, that’s good. At least your fiancé seems to have his head on straight. He’s the one you’re going to live with, not your father. If he’s fine with it, then you don’t need to push yourself.”
“Th-That’s true, but it’s still ugly…”
“Ugly? What is?”
Dang… Poor kid.
How many wives does a some old man need!!!!!