Chapter : 33
Deina looked at herself in the mirror with an awkward expression.
Just to brush her hair, three maids stood lined up at her sides.
“How about putting it up neatly, miss?”
“Ah, yes! Please do.”
Deina blurted out quickly, still not used to this kind of treatment.
The maids narrowed their eyes in concentration, moving her light reddish hair this way and that, brushing diligently.
“Um, by the way…”
As she sat quietly, letting them fuss over her, Deina finally spoke.
“Wasn’t today’s schedule supposed to be lunch with Madam Hillary? Why are you here so early?”
“Oh, you haven’t heard?”
Erika, the maid on her right who was holding up different earrings for her to try, replied quickly.
“Madam requested to see you a bit earlier today. I believe she wants a brief meeting before lunch.”
Why are you only telling me this now…?
Deina blinked up at her.
Erika quickly bowed her head.
“I apologize for not informing you sooner. I also received the message rather suddenly…”
Deina let out a small sigh and shook her head.
No, it’s not your fault. This must all be Madam Hillary’s doing…
And perhaps the lack of warning was intentional too.
Already showing her territorial instincts, huh.
Deina thought to herself as she glanced back into the mirror.
Just like in the original novel, she was reminded again that Madam Hillary was going to be no easy person to deal with.
The butler walking ahead of her stopped in front of the drawing-room door. He turned briefly to meet Deina’s eyes, then raised his neatly clenched fist and knocked lightly.
“Come in.”
A calm, low voice flowed from inside.
Realizing at once that it was Madam Hillary’s voice, Deina swallowed hard.
When the butler opened the door, she saw Madam Hillary sitting at a round tea table inside the spacious room.
Stepping in, Deina held her skirt lightly with both hands and gave a polite bow.
“Good morning, Madam.”
“Please, have a seat.”
With an elegant gesture, Madam Hillary indicated the chair across from her.
Deina nodded and walked over.
As soon as she sat down, she could feel Madam Hillary’s sharp gaze sweep over her from head to toe.
Wow… she’s really staring so openly…
“Do you like tea?”
Just as Deina was awkwardly shifting her eyes, Madam Hillary suddenly asked.
“Yes! I used to enjoy it occasionally back at our estate.”
At Deina’s reply, Madam Hillary gave a subtle signal to the maid standing by the door. The maid quickly approached, pouring hot tea into Deina’s cup.
“Thank you,” Deina said absentmindedly, smiling at the maid.
Across from her, Madam Hillary silently watched her.
Slowly, her brow began to furrow.
They’d briefly met the night before, but now that she saw her properly in daylight — her soon-to-be niece-in-law — Madam Hillary’s first impression remained unchanged.
From her manners to her posture, even the way she sat — nothing about her pleased Hillary.
Every little unrefined gesture, every trace of lack of proper education — all of it grated on her nerves.
No wonder that pitiful family had to steal the Feinstein weaving method.
Suppressing a sigh, Madam Hillary lifted her cup to her lips.
She couldn’t, for the life of her, understand how this young lady had managed to charm her cold, emotionless nephew enough to make it all the way into the Betelgeuse mansion.
Whatever her nephew might think, Hillary had no intention of accepting the heir of the Viviwood family into her own.
“You’ve known Nox since childhood, haven’t you?”
Madam Hillary was the first to speak.
“Yes,” Deina nodded politely. “Our fathers — the late Duke Betelgeuse and my own — had a very special friendship.”
“And you understand that such a connection ended with their passing, correct?”
Oh…
Deina couldn’t help but admire that direct hit. Straight to the point, indeed.
“Yes, I understand.”
At her calm response, one of Hillary’s eyebrows twitched upward.
You understand, do you?
“Then you must also realize just how foolish my nephew’s decision is — and that your visit here is, in essence, a meaningless one.”
“Yes, I understand.”
Again, the same composed tone.
Hillary slowly set down her teacup.
She looked at the young woman sitting opposite her, blinking innocently with that unreadable, mild expression.
What kind of reaction is that…? Is she trying to be clever?
But Deina, on the other hand, was feeling surprisingly at ease — even relieved.
Wait a second… this might actually work in my favor.
If Madam Hillary was already this openly hostile — summoning her early just to show her disapproval — then that meant she really didn’t want this marriage to continue.
And since Deina herself wanted a divorce, that technically made Hillary an ally!
If she played her cards right, getting divorced later might be much easier than she thought.
“This old woman is impatient and not good at beating around the bush, so I’ll speak plainly,” Hillary said.
“Yes,” Deina replied.
“I would prefer if we annulled this marriage. Pretend it never happened.”
What…?!
Deina’s mouth fell slightly open. She had expected opposition, but not a demand for divorce at their very first formal meeting.
“Um…”
Sure, she had planned on divorcing Nox eventually — but not this soon.
Her whole reason for coming to the capital was to use Nox’s connections to track down Jeffrey Sordaven, after all.
So it’s still too early…
Couldn’t they wait just a little longer?
Seeing Deina’s troubled expression, Madam Hillary spoke again.
“As you surely know, marriage is not simply a bond between man and woman for people like us — it’s a transaction between houses, a kind of business. The circumstances now are quite different from when our families first agreed to this union.”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
“Whatever Nox may be thinking, his marriage — as the head of our house — requires the approval of the entire Betelgeuse family. It’s an important matter.”
“Of course,” Deina said, nodding quickly.
Hillary paused for a moment at her agreeable tone, then continued, voice calm and composed.
“It’s not that I personally dislike you, my dear. I simply hope you’ll understand our decision.”
“For now… I understand,” Deina replied.
For now?
Hillary frowned.
She couldn’t tell whether that response meant acceptance or defiance.
The young Viviwood lady spoke as if this were someone else’s marriage entirely.
Deina, meanwhile, was already calculating furiously in her head.
Right now, Madam Hillary is the real power in this house. If I’m not careful, she could force the divorce immediately… I need a backup plan.
If she were to be kicked out right this moment, she’d have to fend for herself.
Traveling to Veincrut and tracking down Jeffrey to uncover the truth about the Viviwood weaving technique — even thinking about it, it was going to cost a lot.
So…
“I’m sorry, but may I also be direct, Madam? If we do go through with the divorce… will there be any compensation?”
“Oh?”
At that, Madam Hillary’s expression softened a little.
Finally, she understood the true motive behind the inscrutable Viviwood girl.
Money.
Her suspicion turned to contempt — and a sense of satisfaction.
Of course. A ruined noble house would naturally grasp for coin.
And if that was all she wanted, things would be easy.
“It’s nice when people are straightforward. How much were you thinking?”
At the question, Deina’s expression grew serious as she did the math in her head.
Let’s see — she’d need money for a carriage, living expenses, and maybe some emergency funds just in case…
After some quick calculations — sharp enough to rival an abacus — she finally spoke.
“About… seven hundred thousand gold!”
“…Excuse me?”
Hillary’s relaxed expression froze instantly, hardening again.
“…What exactly are you playing at?”
She felt a flicker of disbelief — perhaps even that she’d been tricked.
Madam Hillary stared at Deina, who looked back at her with a completely sincere face, blinking those round eyes.
What was that girl hiding behind that innocent expression?
“Did you say seven hundred thousand gold?”
“Yes…!”
Did I ask for too much? Deina blinked nervously.
But actually — no, quite the opposite.
The amount she named — seven hundred thousand gold — wasn’t even enough to cover a single day’s expenses for an average noblewoman living in the capital.
