Chapter 18
A Losing Fight (2)
“Judging from the fact that you have time to idle here, I suppose you didn’t have enough work to keep you busy.”
“Your Grace, it’s not that—”
“Not only did you dare make me come all the way here, but you still have the energy to talk back? You must be quite free, isn’t that so, Mariana?”
Before Anje could even answer, the duke fired his words like arrows—though to his younger sister, Mariana, his voice softened.
Tilting his head to meet her eyes, the duke smiled.
“There’s dampness under your eyes. Don’t tell me you’ve been crying?”
“Of course not. The greenhouse is warm, so I must have sweated a little.”
“Is that so? If you say so, I’ll believe it.”
The duke’s large hand cupped her face, brushing gently beneath her eyes.
Then he turned back to Anje, the warmth vanishing.
“Still here?”
“…”
“Am I that easy to trifle with? Or is the work I give you too light?”
“Neither, sir. I’m leaving now. See? I’m going.”
“Wait.”
Ah, again—why now? What fault is he going to find this time?
Anje shot the duke a sullen glance.
“Mariana seems to have a fever. Take her to her room and call the physician.”
The duke removed his outer coat and draped it over Mariana’s shoulders.
“After that, come straight to the office. No detours.”
With that order, he turned his cold back to Anje.
Suppressing a sigh, Anje took Mariana by the arm. Her slender arm trembled.
Once they were out of earshot of others, Anje whispered,
“My lady, are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
But her voice betrayed her, damp with emotion. When Anje lifted her eyes, she saw Mariana’s glistening lashes and tightly bitten lip.
The path from the tea room to the greenhouse entrance was fairly long. Branches and rose vines—blooming riotously regardless of season—occasionally blocked the way.
As she brushed a branch aside, Anje spoke quietly.
“Did I overstep back there?”
“I’ve failed to repay the kindness I was shown, and now I’m only becoming a burden…” Mariana murmured faintly.
“No one thinks of you as a burden, my lady.”
At the casual remark, Mariana flared.
“You barely know me! How long have you even been at this estate to talk like that?”
Anje, who had been checking the space near Mariana’s head for more branches, chuckled softly. Her gentle, timid nature made even her scolding voice tremble without bite.
“You’re right about that.”
Perhaps she was meddling too much.
But having started, Anje decided to go on.
“My lady, why do you endure everything in silence?”
Mariana stopped in her tracks.
“And if I don’t endure, then what?”
“…”
“Everyone knows I’m from a fallen family and only an adopted daughter. My title as a noblewoman is just for show; they all secretly laugh at it. What’s the point of resisting people like that?”
Anje craned her neck to glance back.
No doubt His Grace was still chatting with the beautiful Hildegarde, enjoying tea, while scolding her for not working. Unbelievable.
Clicking her tongue, Anje spoke.
“My lady, there are times when you must fight even a losing battle.”
“What?”
Mariana’s eyes widened at the unexpected words.
Anje resumed walking. If she wanted to escort the young lady to her room and report to the office before the duke arrived, there wasn’t much time.
“First, you learn nothing from a fight you’re sure to win. It’s like learning to write: the letters you get wrong stick in your memory longer. Second—”
By then they had nearly reached the greenhouse entrance, where the head maid was approaching.
Lowering her voice, Anje continued quickly.
“Even if you break in the end, you need to show you’re not someone who bends easily. If you always shrink back in fear, give up before trying, or let others sway you, the people who want to use you will only see you as an easy mark. They’ll seize the initiative and push harder. That cycle repeats itself.”
If someone tests you once and finds it easy, the second time will be easier still—and soon it becomes routine.
In other words, you become a pushover.
“Even if you ultimately lose, standing your ground will make them hesitate inside, no matter how calm they look outside. Then they’ll think twice about trying to control you. I know you care for the Duchess and His Grace, but you can’t simply endure. Sometimes you must fight.”
At last they reached the greenhouse entrance.
The head maid, approaching with a bright smile, said,
“Why so soon—and by yourself? My lady, do you need anything? Did something happen inside?”
Though unintentional, Anje, the culprit behind all this, cast a guilty glance at Mariana.
“The young lady seems to have a bit of a fever. His Grace asked that she be taken to her room and that a physician be called—”
“No, I feel fine now. There’s no need. Instead, I’d like to have tea with Anje. Please prepare it.”
“But my lady, as you heard earlier, I’m supposed to report to the office—”
“Yes, right away,” the head maid replied, ignoring Anje’s protest.
Anje grimaced. She’d already caused enough trouble.
The duke had indeed asked her to investigate Hildegarde, but that was merely a pre-engagement formality. No matter how she explained, the duke would obviously side with Hildegarde.
Judging by their birth charts, their compatibility was…
One fire, one water—unexpectedly opposed, yet not entirely bad. If they could complement each other, it might even work well.
Considering the grand justification of uniting the highest houses—the Duke’s and the Marquis’s, the nobles’ faction and the emperor’s—this marriage was sure to happen.
So whatever kind of person Hildegarde was, Anje planned to dash off a few quick reports to the duke and then retreat to her perfectly restored home for a long seclusion.
“No, truly, I need to go work,” Anje tried again.
But no one listened.
Was it a family trait of the Duke’s household to ignore people’s words? From the duke himself down to Lady Mariana and even the head maid.
In a previous life, as a famed fortune-teller, Anje had been surrounded by followers who believed her every word without question.
“Haa…”
A sigh escaped her.
“I’ll explain things to my brother,” Mariana said, her mood improved.
But that hardly solved the problem—there was little chance the duke would let Anje off.
“Your Grace? I heard you were busy. How—”
Hildegarde stepped forward, voice flustered, clearly worried he might have overheard something.
“I sent my aide on a small errand, but she didn’t think to return. So I came to catch the lazy aide myself—and, since I hear Mariana’s friends are visiting, to greet them as well.”
The duke nodded slightly to Hildegarde, then swept his gaze slowly around the room, as though memorizing each face. When his eyes met theirs, several young ladies flushed and quickly looked away.
“Would you care for some tea?”
At Hildegarde’s words, she signaled to Grace.
Grace caught on instantly and clapped her hands with a sharp snap.
“Oh my, I suddenly remembered something I need to do this afternoon. I must be going.”
Her words served as a signal. One by one, the other young ladies exchanged glances and began gathering their things.
“I think I’ll head home as well.”
“Me too.”
Like an ebbing tide, the ladies vanished, leaving only Duke Side and Hildegarde behind.
The duke lifted the cup before him and sipped the tea, a corner of his mouth curling.
“I risked my life to win the war and return, only to find the mood of society has changed quite a bit. How disappointing.”
Before the war, many in the social circles, regardless of faction, had watched the duke’s family with deference. Now it seemed everyone kept their eyes on Marquis Crow instead.
Otherwise, no matter how naïve Mariana might be, this situation could never have occurred.
“While the House of Side bled to defend the Empire, the Marquis cleverly and steadily amassed wealth. It seems the Side family has fallen behind.”
“The richest ducal house in the Empire could hardly be compared to the Crows, Your Grace. But my grandfather is indeed a diligent man.”
Though she sensed the irony in his words, Hildegarde feigned ignorance and chose only to praise her grandfather. In truth, there was little else she could say.
