ILTDAMH |CHAPTER 51

Chapter 51

Mother, I Think I’ve Finally Found My Husband.

If only I had been a little closer that day, I would have flung the boiling water straight into that wretch’s face.

“Lucy, Mer is still your younger sister. Truthfully, I, too, get frustrated and angry with her, because she resembles your father so much in her ways. But… my heart still aches for her.”

At Penelope’s words, Lucianne snapped back with irritation.

“Mother, what are you thinking? Have you forgotten? That day at the tea party? That child chose the duke’s side and abandoned us. If not for His Highness the Crown Prince being so generous, we’d all have been corpses already. That girl abandoned both you and me. Why should you worry about her? Anyway, the duke is dead now. It’s only a matter of time before His Highness takes the throne.”

“That’s true. Yes… Oh, then you don’t mean—?”

“Of course I do. His Highness will certainly marry me, so don’t worry. He’s already fallen deeply under my charm. Soon enough, I’ll truly become the Crown Princess, Mother.”

“Yes, yes… thanks to you, our family will rise again.”

Lucianne smiled at Penelope’s joyful face.

But…

Her joy was short-lived. 

The moment Ruan’s mourning period ended and Prince Harmon’s wedding day arrived, the truth of the Crown Prince’s crimes was revealed. 

He lost all titles and was banished in disgrace.

And with him, Lucianne’s dream of becoming Crown Princess crumbled to dust.

Until the day of Harmon’s coronation—when she saw Ruan, very much alive.

At the coronation ceremony, Lucianne stood frozen, staring at the man standing at Prince Harmon’s side.

That man… Duke Ruan Canoluf?

Even when he was thin, he had never been ugly, but she had never imagined he would transform into someone so striking.

And hadn’t she heard he was dead? 

Why then was he alive and well, standing beside the new Crown Prince?

“They say he faked his death to uncover the crimes of the deposed Crown Prince.”

“I see… no wonder. But then, the duchess must be overjoyed. She isn’t tied to a dying duke anymore—her husband has returned stronger than ever, now the closest aide to the Crown Prince himself. Their house has become the most powerful in the Empire after the Imperial family.”

“And yet, I’ve heard the duchess already left the ducal house.”

What? Mer left the duke’s household?

Lucianne strained to listen as others gossiped.

“Why though?”

“Well, you know—it was originally a six-month marriage contract. The moment the funeral was over, she left. They say the duke is desperately searching for her. He’s even put her portrait in the newspapers, offering ten thousand gold coins for any information. So lately, women claiming to be the duchess keep showing up at the ducal estate.”

“Heavens… and to think people said he was cold and heartless. Seems like that didn’t apply to his wife.”

“Who knows? But mark my words—whoever wins his eye will live in luxury for life.”

Listening to their chatter, Lucianne studied Ruan carefully.

So, the Canoluf ducal house…

The moment he revealed his feigned death, Mer left him?

Foolish girl. 

To walk away from such a man.

Then again, perhaps she knew her place. 

A man so handsome and brilliant could never truly like someone like Mer.

Better to leave than be discarded in shame.

But then… Why is he searching for her?

Could it be that he actually loved her?

Lucianne’s gaze lingered on Ruan, who seemed only more handsome the longer she looked.

Now that she thought of it… didn’t she resemble Mer a little?

If he missed her so desperately, then perhaps if she dressed like Mer and appeared before him, offering comfort, wouldn’t he fall for her charm instead?

At the very least, she was far more fitting as a duchess than that foolish Mer.

And if things worked out, she married Duke Ruan Canoluf herself…

The thought filled her with glee.

Duchess Lucianne Canoluf.

Not bad at all.

But then she remembered the servants of the ducal house who had looked down on her, siding only with Mer.

Ah yes… those insolent creatures.

No matter. Once she became duchess, she would see them all dismissed without exception.

Resolved, Lucianne slipped away from the crowd and began to search for Ruan.

***

“Your Grace, this will end badly if you continue. Please, no more wine. Let us return.”

“I’m fine. This won’t bring me down. Any news about Rosaline?”

Ruan looked at Cassel, who had been trying to stop him from drinking further.

“None yet, my lord.”

“Very well. Keep searching.”

“Yes, my lord. We’ll find her, so please—no more wine.”

Ruan turned to reenter the ballroom, but just then, Lucianne crossed his path, pretending not to notice him. 

She stumbled into him and fell.

“Ouch!”

Remaining on the ground, she kept her head bowed, waiting for him to speak to her.

“Are you all right, my lady?”

“Yes, I wasn’t looking where I was going… And you, my lord?”

She lifted her head eagerly—only to find not Ruan, but a servant standing before her. 

Flustered, she jumped to her feet, glancing around.

“When I arrived, there was no one else here,” the servant said, looking around as well. “Are you certain you’re all right, my lady?”

“Of—of course. Then… excuse me.”

Mortified, Lucianne rushed back into the ballroom. But by then, Ruan was gone.

.

.

.

“Mother, I think I’ve finally found my husband.”

Penelope stared in shock as Lucianne returned from the ball.

“Truly?”

At her daughter’s words, her face lit up with joy as she hurried closer.

“Of course. The perfect match for me.”

Lucianne smiled, then suddenly hurried off into the room once belonging to Mer, emerging with a dress in her hands.

“Why are you bringing that out?”

“This is the dress Mer always wore.”

“I know that, but why take it out now? And what do you mean you’ve found a husband?”

Lucianne had rejected every proposal since Duke Daymond’s exile, drowning in despair. 

Penelope had sent her to this ball hoping she might recover her spirits, perhaps meet another young nobleman. 

Could it be she truly had?

“My goodness, who would’ve thought he would change so much? If I’d known, I should have married him myself,” Lucianne murmured, pressing Mer’s dress against her body, eyes glowing.

“Lucy, I don’t understand what you’re saying. And why hold Mer’s dress up to yourself? It’s far too big for you.”

“Honestly, Mother. Why did you buy Mer such cheap dresses? I can’t possibly wear this. What to do… Ah, that one. The gown she wore when she entered the ducal house. Yes, that was Mer’s as well.”

Lucianne darted to her own room, changed into one of Mer’s gowns, and stood before the mirror.

“I can’t gain weight, so I’ll just have to style my hair like hers.”

“Lucy… are you truly well?” Penelope asked anxiously, watching her daughter’s increasingly strange behaviour.

“Of course, Mother. My mind has never been clearer. Do you know who I saw at the ball today?”

“Who?”

“Ruan.”

Ruan? She couldn’t mean that Ruan… surely not Duke Ruan Canoluf, Mer’s husband?

“R-Ruan? Y-you mean Duke Ruan Canoluf?”

“Hehehe, you remember too. That’s right. Mer’s former husband. Mother, you wouldn’t believe it. Back from the dead, and utterly transformed. When he married Mer, he was so gaunt, practically dying. But today, standing beside His Highness, he was dazzling. Oh, why did you make Mer marry him? It should have been me.”

Penelope felt her heart tighten as she listened to her daughter muttering like one possessed.

“But Lucy, at the time, he had only months to live—and it was you who insisted. What on earth is going on? You said you’d found a husband at the ball.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Then why speak only of the duke, and not your husband-to-be?”

Lucianne smiled faintly, still clutching Mer’s dress.

“Because the husband I meant is Ruan.”

“What nonsense is this? He was your sister’s husband—how could you call him yours?”

“Mother, I heard today that Ruan is searching for Mer, who left the ducal house.”

Penelope recalled the newspaper spreads, Mer’s portrait plastered across every page.

“Yes, I know. But what has that to do with you?”

“At the ball, I thought it over. Marrying Ruan wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

Penelope nearly leapt from her chair.

“Lucy, have you lost your mind? That man is your sister’s husband. And besides—you hardly even know him!”

“Mother, Mer only lived with him for five months. Everyone starts off not knowing one another, don’t they?”

Penelope snatched the gown from her hands.

“No, Lucy. Anyone but the duke. Especially now, when he’s desperately searching for Mer—you could never catch his eye.”

“Mother! Do you think I’m lesser than Mer? Ruan only clings to her because he’s known no other woman. He searches for her not out of love, but pity. If I approach him looking like her, offering comfort, he’ll soon forget her and choose me.”

Penelope’s chest clenched at the sight of her daughter, speaking as though entranced.

Since the porcelain shop debacle, when Olivia took the dowry, only three hundred gold had remained. 

With Lucianne’s increasingly lavish spending, barely fifty were left. Penelope had once hoped her daughter might marry into a better house while funds lasted. 

But now…

She wanted to stop Lucianne. 

Yet she knew it was useless. 

Her daughter would not listen.

Days later, determined, Lucianne went to the ducal estate—only to overhear that Ruan was in Phenomenon Village, selling sandwiches of all things.

“Are you really going?” Penelope asked, watching her daughter alter Mer’s gown to fit her own figure, styling herself to look as much like her sister as possible.

“Mother, just wait. I’ll bring back my husband.”

She caught her daughter by the wrist one last time.

“Lucy, look in the mirror. You are not Mer. Even if the duke mistook you for her at first, what he wants is not you—it’s Mer.”

Lucianne shook her off.

“Don’t worry. I’ve made myself rustic enough to pass for her. Once I capture his eye, I’ll see to it he never thinks of Mer again.”

Unable to stop her, Penelope could only watch the carriage disappear into the distance.