Chapter 25……………………………………………
Walking out of the station toward the city center, Terence spoke beside me.
“You’ll be arriving at the meeting place a bit early, it seems.”
“I’m just glad we’re not late.”
“Pardon my asking, but do you think that maid will be there?”
“I’m not certain… but I trust that if it’s Laura, she will come.”
Laura had served as Cassius’ maid and had been by my side for nearly two years.
The reason I had even come all the way to Ashton at such a crucial time was entirely because of her.
She was to be our witness—the person who could testify in court that there had never been any physical relationship between Leandro and me.
Since our marriage, ever since Leandro ran off on our wedding night, we had slept in separate rooms every single day. Whenever I insisted on sharing a bed, he would always refuse outright or find some way to avoid it.
Laura had been brought from her family home at the Count of Wallace’s estate and had taken responsibility for our household in the absence of a husband, arranging the bedroom and keeping order. She had even comforted me during times when Leandro’s behavior left me depressed.
She had watched our thoroughly separate lives unfold firsthand and was close enough to me to testify in my favor.
Securing Laura’s support was essential for the divorce.
‘Still… after working for her family for two years, it might sour relations, and Cassius might hold a grudge.’
To make sure Laura would be on our side, I thought it better to show my sincerity by coming in person rather than sending someone from the capital.
I had already sent her a letter by express mail to give her time to consider. There was no time to wait for a reply before departing.
We arrived at the meeting place I had indicated in the letter—the square in front of the clock tower.
“Seems like there’s a festival today,” Terence murmured, watching the streets alive with joy.
…By the way, this man had followed me as naturally as thread follows a needle. He said he wanted to get some fresh air.
‘Does he want to understand me a little better?’
Well, in novels, Terence often had a surprisingly cheerful and impulsive streak for a scheming mastermind, so he really might have wanted a stroll.
I gave up trying to figure him out and answered with a smile.
“They say there are many festivals in Cassius’ domain.”
“Interesting. I’ve heard Northerners tend to be more reserved and focused on work… perhaps I was mistaken. Ah, wait a moment.”
He raised his arm and walked toward a street stall selling assorted goods.
A little later, he returned holding a mask decorated with paper flowers, small and charming enough to cover the eyes.
“You mentioned your face isn’t widely known…”
Suddenly, his hand came close.
“Just in case.”
Something about his low voice made me tense.
“It suits you well.”
As he placed the mask on me, he said proudly. I checked my reflection in a nearby shop window.
“Oh, thank you.”
I wasn’t sure anyone here would recognize me, since I rarely acted as lady of the house in this area, but caution wouldn’t hurt. Still…
‘Couldn’t you have warned me before sneaking up on me?!’
It was kind, but a bit excessive. Dangerous even, for someone like me who was sensitive about faces.
Whether he noticed or not, Terence leisurely took in the scene—children in colorful clothes running about, merchants handing out free food.
It was picturesque, and my minor annoyance melted away.
“Little Riena’s birthday, huh…”
He read aloud from a large banner stretched across the main street.
“I’d heard rumors that Duke Cassius adored his eldest daughter, but I didn’t expect a grand festival on her birthday.”
“That’s actually not—”
Before I could explain, someone interjected.
“Charming gentleman! How about giving a rose to your beautiful lady?”
An elderly woman was selling roses, bundled in her arms. Though her sales tactics were somewhat pushy, Terence maintained a smile.
“One hundred roses… no, that’s cumbersome. Just ten, please.”
“Ten lots, then.”
“It’s fine, keep the change.”
The woman’s eyes lit up at the gold coin he handed her, more than enough for ten lots.
“Oh my! Such a handsome man with a kind heart, too! Your lady is lucky to have you.”
“No… we’re not like that—”
“Oh? Then you’re already married?”
…Better to say nothing.
“Oh hoho, you seem like tourists. Since you’ve come on a rare happy day, enjoy yourselves. Isn’t the weather perfect today? It rained just yesterday.”
“Yes. Luckily, it’s clear for the princess’s birthday.”
Snap. Terence’s casual remark stopped the woman in her tracks.
“…Princess?”
Her face changed abruptly, as if all her previous kindness had been fake.
“Here, take it.”
She tossed the flowers she had been selecting back into the pile of roses and handed the coin over.
“It’s only polite to know at least a little before visiting another region. Good grief, confusing the princess with a dog…”
She grumbled and left in a huff, leaving Terence looking bewildered.
“Did I do something wrong?”
It was partly my fault for not explaining properly.
“‘Little Riena’ doesn’t refer to the Riena Cassius we know.”
“Really?”
“It’s a nickname she gave a newborn puppy because its fur resembled her hair color.”
“A puppy?”
“Yes. Today is actually the birthday of Riena’s pet dog, Percy.”
This festival celebrates the dog’s birth.
The story goes back to Riena’s childhood. When Duke Cassius’ hunting dog had puppies, Riena picked one and ran excitedly to her father.
“Daddy! Isn’t she beautiful? Her fur is just like my hair. I’ll call her Little Riena. Can I keep her? Please~”
The Duke indulged his beloved daughter and said:
“From today, let this day be a holiday in our domain! Every year, we shall celebrate the charm of my daughter across all Cassius lands!”
Though it later shifted to celebrating Percy’s birthday thanks to Riena, the festival began from the Duke’s doting indulgence.
It wasn’t the first time; the Duke frequently declared holidays whenever Riena did something noteworthy.
Thanks to this, the Northern region, once known for being dull, became more festive than the leisure-loving South.
“Riena’s real birthday is different. Since she’s an orphan, we don’t know the actual day, so we celebrate the day she was adopted into the Cassius family.”
“I see…”
“That day is called Great Riena’s Birthday, and the festivities last for two weeks, a full fortnight of celebration.”
The whole city resounds with music, fireworks, and parades—it’s quite extravagant.
“Wow…”
Terence was so stunned he could barely speak.
Even though I had read about it, experiencing it firsthand was overwhelming. Who would have thought that a hundred hot-air balloons, each with ‘We love Riena’ written on them, would fill the sky? A hundred!
Honestly, it’s more lavish than any festival in the Empire—even the Emperor’s birthday or founding celebrations.
Cassius’ current prominence keeps others quiet, but anyone could raise objections if they wished.
‘Will Terence use this politically against me later?’
I glanced at him, but he was focused elsewhere.
“Look at this.”
He flipped through a tourist guide from the train station and handed me a specific page detailing all the Cassius domain holidays.
“Here, there are a few legitimate holidays after all.”
He pointed to Arts Day and Vegetable Day, looking slightly relieved that some of his knowledge still applied.
“Ha, indeed.”
Wanting to protect that innocent thought of his, I kept the truth from him. These holidays weren’t about promoting art or vegetables—they were just the days Riena gave her first painting to the Duke or refused to eat carrots at meals.
Sometimes, it’s better not to know the truth. And right now, Cassius’ holidays were not the important thing.
I approached an inspector monitoring the street vendors and whispered:
“Excuse me. Over at the clock tower square, someone is selling roses at outrageous prices. That person, right there.”
A member of the enforcement team frowned upon seeing the elderly woman about to sell roses to another couple.
“Ah, that old lady again. I’ve told you, it’s illegal!”
“Tch, what do you care what I sell?”
Whether a chase ensued or not, I returned to Terence’s side.
Ten lots per rose—who is she trying to rip off?
I thought maybe I could overlook it out of respect for my “scheming benefactor,” but no—I’m sensitive about unfairness.
