~Chapter 122~
Honestly, Edwin had never been good at joking—neither before nor now.
It seemed like he wanted to be funny, but his sense of humor was far too ahead of its time. By, like, a thousand years?
But the one you love always wins. Even someone like Edwin—I had to keep him close.
“So, to finish what I was saying earlier, thank you for helping me.”
Honestly, sending the note to Mariana would have been difficult without Edwin’s help. Even Isabella, staying in the same court, had failed repeatedly.
Yet Edwin, without asking what the note said, helped me willingly.
Through his network in the palace, the note reached Mariana’s quarters in just half a day.
“Of course. I am your husband, after all.”
“Ed…”
Moved by my smile, Edwin softly kissed me as I leaned back on the sofa.
Even while doing so, he was careful, making sure not to strain my body.
Even after I secretly told him Brother Matteo had healed me, his touch remained as gentle as a feather.
‘Hmm… should I seriously write to Ramon?’
I thought of the miraculous acupuncturist he had suggested. Edwin noticed my attention had wandered and his eyes pouted slightly.
“What are you thinking about with me right here?”
“Thinking about another man?”
“Who would that be?”
Edwin asked gently.
His gaze was still dripping with sweetness, but I could see exactly what he was thinking.
After all, he was the same one even Baron Conte had been jealous of.
I decided to stop joking for his sake.
“Well… the Edwin Nazar la Lombard who confessed his love to me a few days ago?”
Edwin’s eyes went wide, as if he didn’t get my joke.
I added casually:
“Don’t you know? The most handsome man in the North, but now he’s here in the South.”
“Elly…”
“What? You make weird jokes, but I’m not allowed?”
“Of course you are.”
When I pretended to pout, Edwin answered faster than light.
Even the dangerous glint in his eyes had melted like northern honey.
“I want to apologize for hurting your feelings.”
“Only words?”
“Of course not.”
Edwin, who had been touching my lips, leaned in to kiss me again. But then we heard Berry coming up the stairs.
Not using clairvoyance, but her footsteps were so confident and bold, like a skilled knight, that I knew she was near.
“What is it?”
Berry entered when she heard my voice.
“Milady, the Marchioness Ferrand and her guest have arrived!”
“……!”
I sprang up from the sofa like a spring.
No matter how much Edwin tried to lift me, I moved faster than before.
Of course, today’s appointment was—
“R-Really, Sermon is here? Really? My heart might explode!”
I rushed to the bookshelf and grabbed all three copies of his books—practical, display, and collection editions.
I needed his autograph.
Of course, Isabella already had him sign copies for family heirlooms, state archives, and just-in-case purposes.
This was the smartest thing I had done since arriving at the court.
“Berry, do I look okay? Are my clothes fine?”
“Milady, you always look beautiful!”
“Alright… calm down, calm down. But I’m so excited, what do I do?!”
I fought the urge to dash out and greet Sermon immediately, but also wanted to leave a graceful, intelligent impression.
Of course, the first impulse won—in a second.
“Ed, I’m off!”
“……Go ahead.”
I ran excitedly, leaving Edwin’s expression witnessed only by Berry, who later recalled that he looked like a lover losing favor.
Through Isabella’s arrangement, I met Sermon and exchanged our first greetings.
Actually, it wasn’t just greetings—we talked about a lot. It was a rich, fulfilling time.
Thirty minutes after the visit began, Sermon finally sat and said:
“Rumors really can’t be trusted. I can guess who spread such absurd stories about Elly.”
“Do you not feel ashamed saying that?”
“Isabella walks freely with a wanted man and speaks so boldly.”
As expected, Sermon’s new book had been recalled and burned just days after release.
A bounty had also been placed on his head.
Anyone who read it could see it harshly criticized the Emperor’s incompetence.
So he continued his work in secret.
‘As I expected, I was the target of those rumors—but the old Elly would have deserved them.’
I kept that thought to myself.
After a light debate with Isabella, Sermon continued:
“Anyway, let’s get to the point. I hear you wanted to see me privately.”
“Yes, I want to commission some poems. A series.”
“I wonder what specifically you want. Poems that correct public misunderstandings about you?”
“No.”
I had no intention of coming to the court again.
In Lombard, I could act like a queen. Here, I had to watch the stupid Emperor.
I preferred Lombard, where I could truly be free.
“I need poems to move the people’s hearts. The only way to stop His Majesty’s conversion is for the public to turn entirely against him.”
“The answer is the people… do you really believe that?”
“A ruler who craves absolute power must never be hated by the people. True authority comes from their support, not bloodline.”
No matter the country or era, this truth never changes.
A ruler who cannot gain the people’s loyalty cannot truly reign.
Sermon looked surprised by my firm words.
Even meeting me while a bounty was on his head, he must have already trusted me somewhat.
Yet he never expected a royal to speak like this.
After a brief silence, he asked:
“Then may I write the poems freely, without restrictions?”
“Yes. I believe your passionate writing can truly move hearts.”
“Perfect. I just had a very good inspiration.”
I offered payment, but Sermon refused.
He said art could not be measured by money.
Instead, he promised to bring a gift later as a token of gratitude for today’s inspiration.
The meeting, which started in the afternoon, continued warmly late into the night.
Sermon left the townhouse, accompanied by the Lombard Duke and Duchess.
“Finally, I have a muse to unleash my artistic spirit on.”
The title of the series—“The Scoundrel Duchess’s Secret Life”—remained his secret.
