LWRF 30

Chapter 30

Anze’s Performance

The door burst open without warning, and Lady Riena’s face instantly went pale.

“…so he says,” the servant finished conveying the duke’s message, lifting a single eyebrow at Lady Riena before quickly stepping aside.

“Y-Your Grace!”

Through the space the servant vacated, Duke Saide strode in. The signature icy blue eyes of House Saide fixed coldly on Lady Riena.

“Does the lesson still have long to go?”

“N-no, it’s nearly finished,” she stammered, her eyes trembling as she changed her answer mid-sentence.

“Is that so?”

The duke’s chilly gaze swept over her.

“I hear the silk your husband imported from the Eastern Continent this time is exceptional. My mother couldn’t stop praising it.”

“Th-thank you, Your Grace.”

“Though we don’t share a trading company, the quality is so good that Saide has been doing considerable business with him.”

As the duke stepped forward, Lady Riena—who had been blocking the doorway—unconsciously retreated.

His eyes moved from Mariana’s tear-rimmed gaze to Anze’s stiff expression, pausing on the injured back of Anze’s hand, half-hidden beneath the other. Then his gaze returned to Lady Riena.

“My husband always says he’s grateful to Your Grace,” she offered, regaining her usual composure despite the duke’s sudden arrival.

Casting a sharp, secret glance at Anze, she turned to him again. “The lesson is just finished, as it happens.”

She smiled brightly and looked around. “Everyone may go to supper now.”

But no one moved.

Instead, the duke walked to the window and leaned lightly against the piano. “I’m not finished speaking.”

His eyes dropped to Anze. Despite the blatant scrutiny, Anze stared straight ahead as if unaware.

The duke gently removed the hand covering Anze’s injury.

“Ah, that’s…”

Anze flushed red with shame—being caned at this age for failing to memorize a score!

But the duke’s expression only grew colder.

The wound was shallow, sure to fade quickly. It was clearly meant as humiliation, not punishment.

He had seen far worse injuries on the battlefield, yet the surge of anger in his throat refused to subside.

“The baron’s business sense is excellent,” the duke said icily, “but the baroness’s teaching methods are a disaster. Is she always this violent?”

Lady Riena’s face hardened and she glared at Anze. “The student failed to focus on the lesson.”

“That, too, reflects the teacher’s ability,” he countered.

“T-that’s not what I—” she faltered.

“For someone of the teacher’s ability, the performance was more than fine.”

Anze, knowing her own skill, felt awkward at the praise, certain he had some plan in mind.

“Whenever the baron delivers fine goods, our house has spared no expense,” the duke went on. “Anze.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“From today, cut off dealings with the baron’s company and find another supplier.”

“But, Your Grace, the upcoming banquet—”

Where was she supposed to find a new merchant on such short notice? Yet her protest died beneath the deadly gleam in his eyes.

“…Understood.”

The duke turned back to Lady Riena. “Madam?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Quite by chance I heard your words outside. You intended to report this to my mother?”

Lady Riena lifted her chin stiffly. “Yes. As the one instructing Lady Anze, I cannot overlook such conduct.”

“That burden falls to me. I will speak to my mother myself. And from now on you need not come to the ducal estate again—in fact, you will not set foot on Primrose Hill at all.”

Realizing his meaning, Lady Riena’s face went ashen.

“Your Grace, that’s… that’s unfair! I merely taught properly.”

“Proper teaching?”

His gaze dropped to the cane in her hand.

“Perhaps that passes in the baron’s household, but here we call it violence. And I cannot ignore that you tried to brandish it as if you held power over my mother.”

The cane slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor.

She sank to her knees and bowed her head.

“…I admit I overstepped. But please, withdraw the order to end my husband’s trade.”

After a pause she added, “Miss Mariana, I am sorry. Please forgive me.”

The duke glanced at her without emotion, then looked out the window.

The piano room, adjoining Mariana’s, offered a splendid view of the wide garden. His mother had given this room to Anze, a mere servant, only because moving the piano elsewhere was troublesome.

People thought Duke Saide knew nothing but war and business, yet piano was a basic noble skill; of course he could play.

As a child he’d even been told he had talent—but what could be less fitting for the head of House Saide?

Still, he secretly enjoyed the music drifting to his study of late, sometimes smiling when Anze struck a wrong note. Watching her halting playing improve over time had been a quiet pleasure.

But today she kept repeating the same passage, again and again.

The baroness’s sharp scolding between phrases had begun to grate on him.

“Find out what’s happening,” he’d ordered.

“Lady Anze is being punished for not performing the piece perfectly,” the servant had reported.

“Perfectly? Punishment?” His brow twitched. To his ear it had sounded wonderful.

The servant continued hesitantly, “It seems only an excuse. The head maid says the baroness’s pride was wounded. Lady Riena is influential in society and disliked being tasked with tutoring a fallen noble’s daughter from the start.”

Gazing at the sun setting beyond the dense pines surrounding the estate, the duke had finally spoken:

“The one who deserves an apology is not only Mariana.”

“…Pardon?” Lady Riena asked, puzzled.

“The person you struck was not Mariana, was it?”

Lady Riena clenched the hand braced on the floor. Bowing to the young lady was already a bitter compromise. Surely he didn’t mean that worthless girl—?

Her eyes widened at Anze. Surely not.

“…I don’t understand, Your Grace.”

The duke’s gaze lingered on Anze, then returned to her. “Say it properly.”

Biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, Lady Riena looked at Anze.

That defiant, precise speech had irked her from the start.

“…If I hurt your feelings, I am… sorry, Miss Anze.”

“It’s all right,” Anze replied with a calm nod.

Lady Riena looked back at the duke, as if to ask if that sufficed.

But he only tilted his head slightly, watching.

She bit her lip again before forcing out, “I… will pay for treatment of the hand.”

“The wound is minor; that won’t be necessary,” came the polite but firm reply.

“Your Grace?”

Now desperation crept into Lady Riena’s voice. She felt she had no pride left to sacrifice.

“Everyone may go to supper,” the duke said at last.

Mariana and Anze left first. As the duke moved to follow, Lady Riena grew frantic.

“Your Grace, you must assure me my husband’s business will suffer no harm…!”

The duke paused. A faint hiss escaped his teeth.

“When did I ever make such a promise?”

Her attempt to follow was blocked by the servants. Her outstretched hand grasped only air.

“You didn’t say it outright, but as a gentleman you cannot simply leave like this!”

“A gentleman’s duty?”

A cool smile touched his lips and vanished.

Mariana had once complained that her etiquette teacher was dull.

“As if such things still exist,” he murmured.

END