Chapter 5
“They say the Winter Banquet at Riverweaver is absolutely splendid.”
“And the cause is so meaningful—taking care of the less fortunate and keeping them warm through the winter.”
“This year, with the Duchess joining us, I’m really looking forward to it. I’ve been fortunate enough to be invited to the Winter Banquet every year and take part in that wonderful cause, but this year is bound to be different with Her Grace there. I’m already excited.”
Pressure about the Winter Banquet already, when it’s still spring?
“To be honest, I’m a little excited too.”
I answered, scraping the lemon peel on the edge of my plate with my fork and tasting it. It was so sour it made me squint. But I liked the flavor.
“Have you heard about the Winter Banquet, Duchess?”
“Of course, and I’m gladly studying hard for it. If someone else were preparing it instead of me, I’d be more than a little excited.”
“Oh, our Duchess!”
Countess Dubon, who had just placed the second-largest slice of cake on her plate, laughed incredulously at my words.
“But it’s still half a year away. Why not start preparing now?”
“I’m planning to start sewing the winter curtains tomorrow. I’ve already learned that foreign style of greeting where you set out all sorts of delicacies until the table legs bend and say, ‘It’s not much, but please enjoy.’”
“Good heavens, where in the world does such a greeting exist?!”
Even my silly jokes made the ladies burst into laughter.
I could tell they were subtly gauging the mood. Not my mood—the mood of the shadow behind me, the one named Kagan.
On the other hand, there were also guests who made me watch my step.
“Oh, just in time, Duchess.”
It was the Marquis and Marchioness of Rijen.
“How about spending teatime with us today? There may be a bit of distance in our blood relation, but when it comes to our love for Riverweaver, we’re practically family, aren’t we?”
The Marchioness of Rijen in particular. Even considering she was around my mother’s age, there was a clear status difference between her, a marchioness, and me, a duchess. Yet she subtly treated me like someone beneath her.
But I still didn’t know much about the current realities of noble society.
Perhaps it was because Kagan and the Marquis of Rijen’s family were close like family. At yesterday’s wedding banquet, I’d seen the young Duke of Schumann and Count Rijen casually calling each other names, claiming they were close friends.
“I was just about to invite you, Marchioness.”
I smiled lightly and invited the Rijen family to teatime.
“I imagine I’ll be asking for your advice quite often.”
After all, there was so much I wanted to know.
About the history of Riverweaver.
About Kagan’s personal past.
But it seemed unlikely I’d hear the stories I wanted from the Marchioness.
“Our Duchess seems to have a natural charm that draws people in. Countess Dubon has been pestering me relentlessly to arrange a gathering with you soon.”
She began with a long string of pleasantries. Her tone was flamboyant and reminded me of someone. Yes, she reminded me of the matchmaker who had brought me the marriage proposal from the Steinway family last year.
“You flatter me. To be honest, I’m not very sociable by nature. Countess Dubon is just so warm and kind that I felt at ease with her.”
I showed a bit of modesty. It was partly true.
The Marchioness seemed convinced.
“Well, everyone agrees that a noble lady as good-natured as Countess Dubon is rare. Her husband, the Count, is the type who goes through life with his mouth permanently shut, so she must feel quite stifled. And it’s a shame she doesn’t have a grown daughter to have heart-to-heart talks with.”
She veered into gossip about someone else’s family for a moment.
“Oh, and congratulations on your marriage.”
Then she offered her congratulations again, as if for the first time.
“I’m sure you’re sick of hearing it, but after the banquet yesterday, I saw you and His Grace talking together, and what a fine picture you made. Let me congratulate you once more.”
She led the scattered conversation in various directions. The Marquis beside her simply nodded with an amiable face, and occasionally their eldest son chimed in.
“I sincerely congratulate you too, Duchess. A friend of mine knows a bit about astrology, and he said your compatibility is absolutely incredible.”
Jace, Count Rijen, was a young man two years younger than me. His sparkling green eyes made him look just like a little boy. Even yesterday, when we first met, whenever our eyes met, he would grin mischievously, almost making me laugh.
“Thank you, Count. Please tell your friend I’m grateful.”
Kagan and I were practically strangers, not a drop of blood shared—he was the adopted son of the late Duke of Riverweaver.
But strangely, in the way he looked at me, I sometimes felt an impression similar to Kagan’s. Why was that? Maybe it was the common air of the high nobility. To be more specific, the air of handsome high nobles, handsome young high nobles…
“But it seems you didn’t sleep well.”
The Marchioness’s words made me snap to attention, my face flushing.
“Are you talking about me?”
“The area around your eyes looks dark. Poor thing.”
As a bride who had just spent her first night, any answer would have been awkward, so I just smiled vaguely.
But the Marchioness didn’t seem intent on obvious teasing. Instead, she sighed heavily.
“You must be under a lot of pressure.”
At her words, the Marquis stroked his shaggy beard and nodded. He looked like he wanted to say something too, but the Marchioness continued without giving him a chance.
“You’ve stepped into a position that’s been vacant for a long time, so the pressure is inevitable. Everyone has been watching anxiously because His Grace went without a wife until he was twenty-six. And now that the Steinway family has finally provided a mistress, it’s only natural that you feel the eyes upon you.”
The Marchioness narrowed her eyes and folded her hands on the table. Whether she felt pity or amusement, her eyes gleamed like glass as she looked at me.
“Everyone believes the Duchess will do well. These days, how many faithful Ingestanians do you find in Viachella? Even if she wasn’t well-known in high society, she still comes from a family with a long history.”
It was around that point that it became unclear whether she was purely complimenting me or not.
“I have high expectations for the Duchess too. I don’t think they’re unfounded. People are already saying it’s an excellent match that compensates for His Grace’s weakness of not being of noble birth.”
Compensates. Where to even begin?
I felt the smile at the corners of my mouth stiffen slightly.
I didn’t mind people gossiping about how I was barely a half-blood noble, my family tree barely preserved, unknown to anyone in high society. Since I had decided to trust Kagan’s assertion that he didn’t need his wife’s background, worrying about power struggles with the nobles would be a waste of mental energy.
But I couldn’t just let slide the remark that dismissed Kagan’s origins as a weakness. He had been recognized by the late Duke and became his successor, and he was a duke appointed by the Emperor.
If they were going to disparage him by talking about his background…
“But what weakness does His Grace have?”
It was Jace who suddenly interjected.
“Wasn’t he knighted by Grand Duke Brangier, the war hero, for his service defending the Empire’s front lines? Even if he hadn’t become the late Duke of Riverweaver’s adopted son, wouldn’t he have earned a dukedom eventually? Plus, his administrative skills as a lord have been thoroughly proven over the past four years. And our Imperial citizens, who live for eye candy, drool over him like a living statue, haha. From where I’m standing, it doesn’t seem like he has any weaknesses that need compensating for as a high noble, does he?”
Jace licked the whipped cream off his teaspoon like a puppy and smirked.
The Marchioness smiled with just the corners of her lips and shot him a sharp look.
“Would you stop that vulgar way of speaking, Jace?”
“Then I should add that unlike his mother’s son, His Grace carries himself with dignity in both speech and manner.”
“Jace.”
Finally, the Marchioness lowered her voice and snapped at him. Ahem, the Marquis also cleared his throat and gave him a warning glance.
But Jace didn’t seem to hear any of it. He casually brushed back his fine, thread-like hair with his fingers and chattered on innocently.
“I’m sorry, but I’m the type who can’t help but side with the strong.”
He added, as if sharing a secret, that he was always conscious of the fact that a duke outranks a marquis.
Well, he wasn’t wrong. I couldn’t exactly agree out loud and say, How dare a marchioness find fault with a duke in front of a duchess? So I suppressed a wry smile and looked at the Marchioness with what I hoped came across as envy.
“The Count seems to have a very lively personality. I doubt your household ever feels gloomy.”
“Ha. A bit of melancholy might actually help maintain one’s dignity.”
She downed her cold tea as if in frustration and said,
“Listen, Jace. As a relative, I was only expressing concern for His Grace. And now, because of my foolish son, I’m being misunderstood as if I were finding fault with His Grace.”
“I’m not misunderstanding, so don’t worry, Marchioness.”
It wasn’t hard to smile and pretend not to notice.
I knew that having at least one person who offered worldly concerns was necessary. Even when I lived alone, I had someone who gave me that kind of candid advice. A neighboring noblewoman, acting on my late parents’ request, used to visit me every week.
But whether her words—knowing my background, yet expecting me to ‘compensate’ for Kagan as a noble—were malicious mockery or not, I would have to observe a bit longer.
“Oh my, if you’re not misunderstanding, that’s a relief. But my firstborn, whom I raised so delicately, is embarrassing his mother.”
“I was raised delicately. Delicate-looking, too.”
“Jace, would you please just shut your mouth?”
Still, watching Jace talk back to his mother with a smile on his face made me chuckle quietly.
It kept reminding me of my younger self. I had been quite the chatterbox too. My parents never told me to shut my mouth. They kindly and patiently answered my questions, resolving my doubts…
Lost in fond memories, I must have been staring blankly at the mother-son bickering.
So when I suddenly locked eyes with Kagan, who had just entered the reception room, I was very flustered.
Kagan stood at the entrance, staring straight at me. His large shadow filled my vision, quietly overwhelming me. I even had the illusion that an icy chill was emanating from his watery blue eyes, lowering the temperature of the room.
Ah, I must have been smiling too foolishly.
I quickly composed my expression.
“You’re here, Kagan?”
I sprang up from my chair.
The Marquis and Marchioness also turned around, rose, and offered him their greetings.
