MILND 07

Chapter 7

I glanced sideways at the butler standing behind Mikhail. The old butler had a strained smile on his face.

‘Did he even understand what Helene meant?’

Adjustment? Yeah right. Helene’s earlier comment had clearly been a warning not to stir up unnecessary trouble.

It was obvious how it would look to the subordinates if the newly appointed head of the family treated his low-born stepmother with exaggerated politeness.

Even if he had to consider the emperor’s opinion, a family head should never compromise his authority.

“Still, I’m glad to see you looking well. Are you comfortable living in the annex?”

“…I’ve been living just fine, with nothing lacking.”

“But I worry since it’s so far away. If you need anything, we could bring you to the main estate—”

“No, that won’t be necessary.”

The refusal was firm. As much as I hated being under others’ scrutiny while staying at the estate, the thought of bumping into Helene there was even worse.

‘Stepmother living upstairs from her son’s family!’

It sounded like the intro to one of those messy divorce shows. And of course, I’d be cast as the villain.

“Well then, at least—”

“My lord, the banquet is ready.”

“Oh, is that so? Let’s move, Mother.”

The one who cut Mikhail off was the elderly butler at his side.

Afraid Mikhail might make another troublesome offer, he quickly gestured for the banquet hall doors to be opened.

As if on cue, the doors opened, and Mikhail extended his left arm.

I hesitantly took his arm with my right hand.

Since I was standing in for Helene today, Mikhail would be escorting me during the entrance.

As we began to walk, the vassals behind us followed.

‘Normally, this would be a heartwarming scene between mother and son.’

Being escorted for the first time in my life by my stepson felt extremely awkward.

We entered through the back and stood beneath the family crest and banners on the wall. Then, the front doors opened.

“Announcing the arrival of the House of Count Cersil of the Lake.”

The butler at the door announced the guests by name, one by one, as they entered. They slowly looked around and approached us.

“We pay respects to the Duke of Layton.”

They bowed deeply in the formal noble greeting.

I had heard about this from Lady Rolan, but seeing them bow to me in person still made me straighten my shoulders with pride. I never imagined I’d be the one receiving such a greeting like in the movies.

I cradled my belly and gave a slight bow in return, while Mikhail, who seemed friendly with the guest, responded with a pat on the shoulder.

“Welcome, Count. I hope your journey was smooth.”

“All good, much lighter-hearted than last month’s visit.”

Each noble greeted us, and Mikhail would offer a warm comment to wrap things up.

Repeating this dozens of times was my assigned duty tonight.

Not knowing anyone, and having no pleasantries to exchange, I merely played the role of a mannequin, bowing politely. None of the guests seemed inclined to talk to me.

‘Though they’re probably watching closely.’

They must have been wondering what kind of relationship Mikhail and I had, whether showing friendliness toward me might anger him, or even who I really was. Clearly, they had many questions.

Some nobles hid it well, but the less refined ones openly displayed their curiosity.

They were so transparent that it made me realize nobles weren’t that different from regular people.

“And now entering…”

Since we were the first to enter, the remaining guests followed in order from high to low nobility.

The lowest-ranked noble invited was a viscount, and once he arrived, Mikhail would personally introduce the margrave and the entrance would conclude.

I waited, mechanically bowing and greeting each guest in turn.

‘Let’s get this over with and grab a plate of food to take to the lounge.’

As the duchess of the house, I had access to a private lounge in the banquet hall.

I planned to use the excuse of fatigue to sneak away and enjoy some luxurious food and wine in peace.

I’d already received a helpful tip from the butler: “Once the greetings are done, we’ll have a seat prepared in the lounge.”

“Announcing the arrival of the proud Viscount Milize!”

Finally, the last noble arrived.

He was a short middle-aged man with a protruding mouth that made him resemble a duck. A slightly smaller girl accompanied him.

‘Looks like a father-daughter appearance.’

There had been other father-son duos earlier, so this wasn’t out of the ordinary.

The pair slowly made their way toward us.

At first, I wasn’t paying much attention—I was too busy scanning the room for what food to try—but then I caught sight of the girl.

‘What’s with those heels?’

She was wearing stilettos at least twice the height of mine, an overly tight corset, and a seductive dress that left her shoulders bare.

The more I looked, the more uncomfortable I felt—like the awkward unease of watching a child try to act sexy.

Her complexion was terrible. She tried to walk calmly, but her eyes trembled with every step—it was that visible even from here.

Eventually, her father gave her a sharp scolding, as if to say, “Walk properly.”

‘Oh hell, here we go.’

The curse escaped me. She looked no older than a middle schooler.

The girl, already looking malnourished, had her waist strangled with a corset as thick as a wine bottle and was caked in white powder that didn’t match her natural skin tone. I furrowed my brow.

From a distance, she might pass as a petite noblewoman, but up close, she looked no different from a middle schooler with heavy makeup.

‘If she were my student, I’d have smacked her on the back and told her to take care of her skin.’

There were plenty of overdressed women at the banquet, but none to this extreme.

The disturbing part was that no one seemed to find it odd. As if this was perfectly normal.

“We pay respects to the Duke of Layton.”

After a wobbly walk, they stood before us and bowed. The father bent first, followed by the girl.

‘Can she even bend in that corset?’ I wondered.

And sure enough, just as she was bowing, the girl suddenly covered her mouth.

“Urk!”

“Illina!”

The girl—called Illina—wobbled in place. With heels that high, her unsteady posture looked even more dangerous. Yet even then, she darted her eyes upward to gauge our reactions.

“Viscount, is she alright?”

“S-she’s fine! Illina, what are you doing! Stand up straight!”

The viscount scolded her sharply, while I let out a soft sigh.

She can’t stand properly. Anyone who’s ever felt nauseous knows how hard it is to lift your head. If it’s bile, it’s even worse. It’s better to just throw up.

I’d seen something like this in my past life too—teen girls obsessed with being skinny.

“Mother?”

I stepped in quickly and grabbed Illina’s arm.

It was shockingly thin and stiff, not what you’d expect from a child.

“What’s with this scrawny arm? It’s all bones and skin.”

Even if someone told me she was from the slums, I’d believe it.

I sighed, pulled a handkerchief from my pocket, and covered her mouth.

Placing my hand on her stomach, I gently rubbed to help her calm her stomach. Thankfully, my hands were usually warm.

“Hey, are you eating properly?”

I didn’t expect an answer. With bile rising in her throat, she likely couldn’t speak. I had to understand that.

Half-holding her, I turned to Mikhail.

“She seems faint. I’ll take care of her.”

“D-duchess, you really don’t have to—”

“It’s fine. Enjoy the banquet.”

I surprised myself by naturally speaking down to the viscount, but now wasn’t the time to worry about that.

Mikhail looked at me, slightly taken aback, but quickly signaled to the butler.

“Bring a physician to the lounge.”

“No need for a physician. Just bring warm water and some honey.”

Any doctor here would be a noble too. Like hell a kid would feel comfortable throwing up in front of them.

Supporting Illina, I headed for the lounge. The murmur of the banquet hall grew louder, and Illina’s shoulders trembled.

Having to worry about others even in this state—noble life must be exhausting.

“Don’t worry. It’ll quiet down soon.”

“Huff…”

Even my words didn’t seem to calm her. I wished the others would just shut up, but they’d already started gossiping about Illina.

I hadn’t expected to deal with a child at this banquet. I let out a sigh no one could hear.

Just before leaving the hall, I turned around. Countless eyes were on us.

I handed Illina to a servant who had followed and gave a bow I learned from Lady Rolan.

“Apologies for the disruption. I’ll excuse myself for a moment.”

I lifted my head and locked eyes with each noble who had just whispered Illina’s name.

“This banquet is in honor of the Margrave. Please focus on celebrating him.”

Stop talking behind a kid’s back and do what you’re here for.

“That is Helene’s and my wish.”