CHAPTER 77……………………………..
Breakdown
The Syde ducal house was one of the oldest even within the Empire—hardly surprising considering it was the family of a founding contributor to the nation. With such a long history, political shrewdness came naturally.
The marquis, Crow, turned his sharp gaze toward the Duchess Dowager.
“Isn’t there a clear difference between Hildegard not showing up, and the duke—who is definitely at home—not showing his face at all?”
“It was Your Excellency and I who agreed to meet from the start. I don’t see why you keep dragging my son into this.”
“Well, he is one of the parties to this marriage—”
The marquis, who had been speaking heatedly, suddenly clamped his lips shut as a realization struck him. Of all people, he knew best that letting emotions flare during negotiations was poison.
“He’s busy, it can’t be helped. Here is the dowry list.”
Forcing himself to calm down, the marquis extended a document.
A servant waiting by the table placed it before the Duchess Dowager so she could see it easily.
She skimmed the densely written list—long enough as it was, but each item was of staggering value.
‘The Fernand diamond mine, shares in the western coastal docks… and what’s this? A vineyard and villa in eastern Natali?’
Her eyes narrowed. With a list like this, he certainly had reason to boast. Refusing this marriage would be the height of foolishness.
“She’s your only granddaughter, so the amount feels almost excessive.”
“Of course. Nothing is too precious for Hildegard. She’s a child I treasure more than my own eyes.”
“You must be very fond of your granddaughter.”
At her words, the marquis lifted his chin with a proud, overbearing expression. Wasn’t that why he’d piled so much of his wealth onto that sheet of paper?
But the moment the Duchess Dowager’s next words landed, the arrogance in the marquis’s eyes clouded with embarrassment.
“And yet you were said to be quite cold to your son and daughter-in-law. They suffered in the slums and died there, didn’t they?”
“I couldn’t possibly accept some daughter of a ruined family as my daughter-in-law, could I? When I told my son that, what did he do? Ran off and joined with her without permission. How could I let a girl like that into my house?”
He lifted his teacup, drank, and continued slowly.
“At that point, they had already crushed all expectations and hopes I had for them. And yet, at one time, I tried to forgive and find them. But even that effort was wasted. By the time I found them, they were already dead.”
The Duchess’s gaze dropped. The marquis refused to acknowledge even the smallest fault of his own. He painted his son as a naïve youth and dumped all the blame on the deceased Siena.
He would never know—not even if he lived and died again—that the “girl from the ruined family” he drove out was the Duchess Dowager’s dearest friend.
‘Though he himself was originally a commoner-born merchant…’
And yet he strutted around like the noblest of nobles. A cold smile touched her lips.
“Why don’t we stop discussing things irrelevant to the young couple’s future? It’s time for practical matters. When do you think the wedding should be? The sooner the better, in my opinion.”
“I’ve wondered this for a while—why are you in such a hurry to marry off Lady Hildegard? Wouldn’t you want to keep a granddaughter you worked so hard to find by your side for longer?”
“No matter how precious, keeping a grown girl too long is asking for trouble. Do you know when one should slaughter a chicken, madam?”
How would she—raised as an aristocrat—know when to slaughter a chicken? When she simply smiled without answering, the marquis looked smug.
“Usually they’re butchered at six weeks, and no later than six months. After that, the meat toughens. Women are the same.”
‘What exactly does he think women are?’
If this was how he spoke of a granddaughter he doted on, she could easily imagine how he had treated her friend—the despised daughter of a ruined family.
Even if Siena had somehow ended up living in the marquis’s house, she would never have adapted.
Disgust flickered in the Duchess’s eyes.
“So yes, separate from my affection for my granddaughter, I’m urging the marriage from the standpoint of a patriarch responsible for leading a house.”
Even so, she could not bring herself to express gratitude. The marquis’s transparent hypocrisy made her stomach churn; she quietly clenched her teeth.
“I… see.”
“However, I do have one request.”
There was no way he had missed her displeasure, and yet he continued calmly.
He believed in the weight of the dowry he brought. No matter how aristocratic the Duchess Dowager was to her very bones, she couldn’t simply ignore that fortune.
“What… is it?”
She expected him to say, Let’s hold the wedding as soon as tomorrow. But he had a request?
Her eyes flicked to the dowry sheet again.
Even on second glance, the amount was jaw-dropping. People said the Syde ducal house was the richest in the Empire, but that was probably false.
“I understand the duke has a female assistant—Anje.”
“Yes.”
“I’d like to borrow her.”
It was surprising enough he knew of Anje, a mere assistant to the duke—yet he even wanted to take her?
“May I ask why?”
“I haven’t seen her many times, but she seems extremely bright. Once Hildegard goes to the ducal house, who will I have by my side? I realized the work she currently handles for my trade company is quite serious. Good help is hard to find these days. So, I’m asking to borrow her.”
The Duchess immediately frowned.
“I understand Your Excellency’s difficult situation. But that child is indispensable to Joseph as well. Surely a wise man like you can distinguish public from private matters?”
“I know it’s an unreasonable request. But I would appreciate it if you could consider the circumstances of an old man with nowhere else to turn. The Syde duke is young and has talented people everywhere around him.”
Clink. The Duchess set down her teacup with a firm sound. Such a sound was meant to signal her displeasure.
But the marquis had no attention to spare for her mood.
He simply wanted—by whatever means—to bring that girl to his side.
Hadn’t he come here ready to offer more than Hildegard’s dowry if necessary, solely to acquire Anje?
Money could be earned again, but blood could not. Losing two sons had taught him that.
“Has Your Excellency ever directly hinted to Anje about your intentions?”
“Yes. She rejected me cleanly. That’s why I’m asking you, madam.”
“Hm…”
Turning her head with a prim expression, the Duchess’s lips curved into a satisfied smile.
“I’m afraid…”
Her lowered lashes cast a soft shadow across her cheek.
Despite her age, the Duchess was still elegant and beautiful. The marquis wondered—if his daughter-in-law had grown older, would she have looked like this? His son had been smitten with her; she had been a lovely girl.
Would things have been different now if he had accepted that marriage back then? As he mused, her voice reached his ears.
“I would love to grant Your Excellency’s rare request, but if the girl herself doesn’t wish it, I can’t command her by force. We respect the rights of our staff, you see.”
“Rights? What rights—”
He thought he had muttered the curse only inwardly, but perhaps it had slipped out. The Duchess’s eyes widened slightly, then she frowned and opened her fan.
“It seems the treatment of servants in the Marquis’s house is quite different from here.”
She knew well that not only the marquis’s family, but many noble houses still treated servants little better than slaves.
Until three or four generations ago, the Empire had slavery; nobles had bought slaves to manage their households instead of employing paid commoners.
And didn’t the marquis’s homeland—the Kingdom—still practice slavery?
Smiling faintly, she fluttered her fan.
“If Anje refused, then we cannot possibly send her to Your Excellency.”
