Chapter : 4
Surely the soup won’t be watery, right? This is my very first meal in Iglessia, the so-called embodiment of wealth.
I hope it’s packed with ingredients.
Just imagining warm soup warming her stomach made saliva gather under Rosetta’s tongue.
She was about to step inside when she glanced back at the courtyard. Madam Cyril was still standing there, rooted to the spot.
“What are you doing? Shouldn’t you hurry and show me to my room?”
“……”
Her face was backlit, making her expression unreadable. Rosetta shrugged as if it didn’t matter.
“You’re not planning to let me dine with him without even changing clothes, are you?”
“……”
Still no answer. Just as indifferent, Rosetta grabbed a passing servant.
“Excuse me. Which way is it to the bedroom?”
“Huh? Ah— um, the bedroom…?”
The flustered servant glanced nervously behind her. Madam Cyril had approached at some point and spoke as she passed Rosetta.
“The lift is that way.”
Her tone was noticeably colder than before.
Watching Madam Cyril stride ahead, Rosetta let out a soft, incredulous laugh.
How transparent can she be?
Trying to crush Rosetta’s spirit from the start—how naive.
I’ve dealt with people like you all my life.
People who smile while plotting to trip you—she’d met more than enough. Tricks like these were no more than a tickle.
Another mountain to climb… but still just a mountain.
Climb long enough and you’ll reach the summit eventually.
Keeping her smile, Rosetta started walking.
“This is Lord Valeri’s bedroom.”
Standing before a door engraved with ornate reliefs, Madam Cyril opened it.
Rosetta noticed her biting the inside of her cheek, but went inside—and gasped.
“Wow…”
It was a stately, antique bedroom.
The decorations and artwork scattered throughout looked easily over a hundred years old, and on the bedside table stood a vase overflowing with eucalyptus and pink lisianthus.
Lisianthus.
After a few seconds of silence, Rosetta finally spoke.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Of course. Lord Rike oversaw everything personally.”
Madam Cyril lifted her chin with pride. The tone made Rosetta realize the claim was true.
He decorated this room himself…?
Rosetta’s expression grew subtle as she stared at the vase.
How did he know I like those flowers?
He had acted as though he didn’t remember her at all.
No. He probably just picked them because they’re pretty.
Turning away, Rosetta looked at the four-poster bed with curtains on all sides.
The soft lace embroidered with faint patterns was elegant, and the blankets spread across the mattress looked impossibly plush.
She brushed her hand over it—smooth as silk. Made from the finest fabric, it felt good even with the slightest touch.
A smile tugged at Rosetta’s lips.
“I should thank him.”
“First, you’ll need to change.”
Madam Cyril clapped, and the waiting maids came inside. Rosetta rose from the bed as they approached.
The first meal in the solarium was abundant.
Fresh seafood, tender lamb and beef, and a rich assortment of vegetables—all of exceptional quality.
Rosetta’s eyes sparkled when she tasted the appetizer: a salad topped with feta cheese made from goat’s milk.
Delicious, fresh, and plentiful. It had been a long time since she’d eaten a meal this good.
What should I try next?
She was excitedly debating between lasagna made with mashed potatoes and minced meat, or pistachio macaroni, when Sol Rike dabbed his lips with a napkin and spoke.
“Do you like the room?”
“Oh—yes. It’s wonderful. Thank you.”
Swallowing the lasagna, Rosetta forced her gaze away from her plate.
After changing clothes and touring his study—also his office—her head had been full of one lingering question:
Should she ask him about the flowers or not?
Since he brought up the room, maybe now is the time…
Just as she gathered her resolve and opened her mouth, Sol Rike set down his napkin and spoke first.
“Good. I’ll come to you tonight, so be prepared.”
—CRASH!
A sharp shatter rang out. Sol’s reddish-gold eyebrows flicked upward. A maid had fallen to her knees where the sound came from.
“M-my apologies, Lord Rike! Please, have mercy…!”
Her ears, visible through her trembling light-brown hair, were glowing red.
With a bored expression, Sol said,
“Clean it.”
“Y-yes, sir…”
Shaking, the maid gathered the broken glass into her apron. Watching the round bonnet bob as the maid worked, Rosetta sipped her drink and thought:
By “prepare”… he means the wedding night, doesn’t he?
The wedding night.
The first night of a married couple.
Once that happened, the marriage became truly complete.
He said he didn’t expect much… just that I stay by his side. I thought he meant the marriage would be only nominal.
He really intended to consummate it?
So he prepared the room himself for the wedding night…
Not tailored to her tastes—tailored to his. Rosetta’s hand slowed on her fork, her eyelids lowering.
Suddenly, she felt a harsh, prickling gaze.
Hm?
Rosetta turned—and locked eyes with the maid.
Gathering the glass pieces into her apron, the maid glared at Rosetta even as she left the dining hall. Her stare was so intense it felt like it might pierce her cheek.
Rosetta let out a small huff of laughter.
Not so different here either.
The servants attending the meal.
The warm atmosphere filling the dining hall.
The excellent music complementing the abundant food.
None of these were things she ever enjoyed in Fabiniu.
There, as someone who had fallen out of the family head’s favor, she had been denied even trivial comforts.
The staff at Iglessia seemed no more welcoming—just like in Fabiniu.
Well. If even the butler treats me that way, it’s no surprise the rest follow.
Even so, Rosetta didn’t mind.
After all, she had the years of Fabiniu behind her. This wasn’t new.
Their disapproval meant nothing. The only thing that mattered was the man sitting before her.
Sol Rike Iglessia.
The nation’s sole Guardian Duke—and the man who once helped her escape after she was kidnapped as a child.
And the man who…
“Run.”
“I—let me at least stop the bleeding…!”
“There’s no time!”
…the man who nearly died in her place.
“Better one of us lives, than both die for nothing.”
His blood-stained hand had urged her to flee. She remembered his face vividly—those golden eyes, lit red by the glow of candlelight.
As Sol Rike drank his wine, his gaze swept over her face.
After finishing dinner and returning to her room, Rosetta sat before the vanity.
I thought they’d start preparing me for the wedding night immediately.
But Sol had told her he still had work to finish, so she should rest. Because of that, Madam Kyrylos hadn’t assigned a maid to attend Rosetta.
Claiming she wanted Lady Valeri to rest comfortably.
All the better.
Contrary to the Madam’s intent, Rosetta was relieved to have a quiet moment alone to calmly consider what needed to be done.
First of all, even if the servants dislike me, I need at least one or two to be on my side.
You can’t force affection, but she needed to establish at least one favorable relationship.
If that’s difficult, then I need to make myself someone they can’t disregard.
The only Guardian Duke of the kingdom, and the daughter of a Count’s family clinging pathetically to its former glory.
An unbalanced match in every way.
And yet the marriage proceeded solely because the head of House Iglessia wished it so.
To win the hearts of his servants, I need to be useful to their master.
Rosetta unlocked the wooden box on the vanity and thought:
Starting tonight… I just have to get through this safely.
