chapter 29
“Don’t tell me the child threw a tantrum, saying she didn’t want to see us? And you just indulged such a spoiled whim?”
The Duchess clicked her tongue in disbelief. Though it was phrased as a question, she clearly wasn’t expecting an answer. Her face filled with fury as she raised her voice.
“This is why birth is so important. That lowly blood—where else could it have gone—”
“Duchess.”
Just then, Queen Dowager Isabella seized the moment to interject. She glanced briefly at Haven, then smiled gently as she continued addressing the Duchess.
“Please calm yourself, madam. She’s still just a child. Shouldn’t we, as adults, be the ones to show understanding?”
“Some things can’t be understood, Your Majesty. If she had shown disrespect to me, I might have let it slide. But to commit such irreverence when Your Majesty has come to visit—surely that is intolerable.”
“We can teach her. Educate her so she brings no shame to the name of Guenters. Don’t you agree, Haven?”
Isabella looked at him with a kindly expression. But Haven only gave her a cold glance before signaling the butler with a flick of his hand. The butler let out a small sigh of relief, as if thinking, Finally, and stepped forward.
A glass of red wine was poured before Haven. Once his task was complete, the butler stepped back. The conversation paused, and all eyes shifted to Haven.
But he gave no indication of interest in either Isabella or the Duchess. Instead, he focused on swirling the wine in his glass, savoring its aroma.
Just as the Duchess was about to say something with a scowl, Haven’s gaze met hers—icy and dark, a look that made “cold” seem like an understatement.
“……!”
Duchess Ferrante flinched unconsciously. Embarrassed by her own reaction, she bit her lip and gripped her napkin tightly.
“Bring the young lady here.”
Perhaps she meant to recover her wounded pride. The Duchess once again ordered the butler, her tone even firmer than before. The butler looked uneasy at the repeated demand.
“Let’s eat. The food will get cold.”
“We’ll eat when the young lady arrives. She’s not bedridden with a severe illness, is she?”
The Duchess shot a defiant glare at Haven’s blue eyes. Haven stared at her for a long moment before chuckling under his breath. The sound was cold, and both Isabella and the Duchess flinched.
“Bring Flitta, Yannick.”
“…Yes, Your Highness.”
The butler hesitated for a second, then bowed in response. The Duchess smiled in satisfaction. She believed the arrogant nephew had finally yielded to her.
Of course, Haven couldn’t have cared less about what she thought. He was simply irritated.
Time passed.
Finally, footsteps echoed, and the butler reappeared.
“The young lady has arrived.”
Both the Duchess and Isabella turned their cold gazes toward the entrance. A small child standing behind the butler instinctively shrank under their stare.
Seeing this, the Duchess let out a mocking snort. Just as a cynical comment was about to form on her lips, the maid beside the child bent down and whispered something to her.
Flitta responded with a soft “mm,” then walked over and stood in front of Haven, the Queen Dowager, and the Duchess.
“…Hello.”
Gripping the hem of her skirt in both hands, the child gave a small curtsey. She tried to act composed, but her nervousness showed clearly in her tiny voice.
It was only natural. How could a five-year-old perfectly conceal her feelings—especially in front of adults who clearly disliked her?
Just standing there and greeting them with trembling dignity was commendable enough.
But the Queen Dowager and the Duchess only looked down at her coldly. There was no warmth in their eyes, only a sharp gaze, as if waiting for the slightest flaw.
“…Tsk.”
After scrutinizing her for a moment, the Duchess clicked her tongue. She had hoped to find fault, but there was nothing wrong with the child’s etiquette. Her voice was a little soft, perhaps, but not worth pointing out. The Duchess clicked her tongue again in frustration, then finally looked away.
“Dinner.”
Just then, Haven spoke in a low voice. Flitta blinked, unsure if he was speaking to her. He turned to her again and asked,
“Have you eaten?”
“Ah… no, not yet.”
Flitta widened her eyes, then quickly shook her head.
“I was going to eat with Rosé in my room. But then Grandpa Butler called me…”
Perhaps it was the simple joy of being spoken to by her father. Flitta, who had earlier been scared in front of the Queen Dowager and the Duchess, now blushed and smiled brightly.
“Come sit.”
Haven pointed to the seat beside him. Isabella and the Duchess’s eyes widened in shock, but he turned to the butler with perfect composure.
“Bring a meal for the child.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
The butler bowed and hurried to fetch the head chef. Flitta looked around nervously, then glanced behind her. Rosé, standing behind, smiled softly when their eyes met.
Flitta’s expression brightened with relief. Taking a deep breath, she walked over and sat beside her father. Haven nonchalantly pulled out the chair for her.
“…You two look close. When did that happen?”
Isabella commented with a forced smile, then turned to Flitta.
“I’d like to be close with you too, Flitta. But your father never invites me over. He’s so mean. Don’t you think so, Flitta?”
She gave a sweet eye smile and joked playfully. Flitta, who had been watching the food being set down, blinked in confusion at the sudden mention of her name.
“Uh… I, um…”
Her light green eyes flickered with anxiety. After a few rapid blinks, she turned and reached out her hand.
“R-Rosé…”
Her tearful voice calling for Rosé was heart-wrenching. As Rosé hurried forward, the Duchess snapped sharply.
“What kind of foolish whining is this at the dinner table!”
“…!”
Hic. Flitta hiccuped in fright at the Duchess’s raised voice. The sharp gaze of the Duchess bore into her. Flitta clamped both hands over her mouth, but the hiccups wouldn’t stop.
“That lowborn…”
Clatter!
At that moment, a glass shattered on the floor. It was Haven’s wine glass.
“Ah! I’ll clean it right away.”
The butler jumped at the sound of the glass breaking. As the maids rushed to clean up, Haven turned his gaze elsewhere.
He saw the woman gently calming the frightened child. While everyone else floundered in panic, she focused solely on Flitta.
“Rosé.”
He called her quietly. Rosé looked up while patting Flitta’s back. His unreadable blue eyes met hers.
“Take the child back to her room.”
“…Yes.”
Rosé hesitated for a moment, then nodded. For Flitta’s sake, it might be better this way—so she wouldn’t have to endure more cruelty.
“Young Lady, let’s go back to your room…”
“Who said you could go! Sit down at once!”
The Duchess’s voice rang out furiously. Flitta, holding Rosé’s hand, jumped and plopped back into her seat in fright.
“Uuuugh…”
Tears leaked from Flitta’s trembling lips. The fear she had barely held back finally broke free.
“Young Lady.”
Rosé pulled Flitta into her arms. She could feel how badly the child was shaking.
“Let’s go back, alright?”
“Hic… mhm…”
Flitta, still sniffling, nodded and reached out to hug Rosé’s neck. She wanted to be carried. Rosé lifted the child into her arms.
“We’ll be going now.”
She bowed to Haven with Flitta in her arms.
He looked at the girl in Rosé’s arms for a moment, then gave a nod. Rosé returned the bow and turned to leave.
“Who gave you permission to leave?!”
The Duchess raised her voice again.
“How are your servants trained?! They act however they please. Haven, are you just going to stand there—”
“That’s enough, Aunt.”
Haven pressed his fingers to his brow, then raised his gaze. His sharp, blade-like stare made the Duchess flinch.
“What do you mean, ‘that’s enough’?”
“I mean that this is where I draw the line for what I will tolerate from you—no, from Duchess Ferrante’s rudeness.”
