Episode 17
“Yes!”
“Thank you!”
As the servants left, Flora stood up from her seat and walked over to the mirror.
Her rare pink hair and eyes—said to appear once in a few hundred years—were even lovely in her own eyes. When she gently bit down to press her upper and lower teeth together, her slender cheeks became slightly fuller. Then, when she widened her eyes and looked up at someone like that, nine times out of ten, they would flush red and cough awkwardly.
Flora gently caressed her hair and murmured to herself.
“Someone worthy of Duke Richmond’s name should be by his side.”
Wasn’t that what was best for everyone?
Her reflection in the mirror brimmed with confidence. When it came to things like this, she had never once lost. Even the fiancés that other noble ladies had proudly boasted about as deeply in love with them became Flora’s devotees after she batted her lashes and smiled a few times, curious whether their love was real. It was as easy for her as changing clothes—and honestly, it was fun.
Flora tilted her head lazily.
“That woman… I hope she doesn’t get too attached to this estate. It’d be a shame.”
Because soon enough, she’d be kicked out with nothing.
On the day that woman is thrown out, Flora would see her off with tears in her eyes—like an angel.
After Walter left, Grace slowly looked around the magnificent and lavish room.
The carpet spread across the floor seemed newly acquired. It was an Estosan carpet, richly embroidered with gold thread. Covering a space this wide must’ve cost tens of millions in gold. Not only that—wherever her gaze landed, there were porcelain vases, oriental mother-of-pearl boxes, and golden clocks. The room could rival any luxury boutique.
“Even the emperor’s bedroom can’t compare to this.”
A bitter smile curled across her lily-pale face.
“The only room that might be comparable is the Duchess Taylor’s.”
She recalled Emma Taylor, who had moved all of her mother’s belongings into storage and redecorated the room as extravagantly as possible.
“She must have been thrilled, living in all this splendor.”
“That must be why she looked so furious,” Jesse mumbled, recalling Marchioness Rinko, and Grace chuckled. The idea that she was “furious” was hilarious. They’d coveted what wasn’t theirs and were now angry because it had been taken away.
“I wish I could go tell her.”
“Tell her what?”
“That this is only the beginning.”
Yes—this was only the beginning.
Grace would not stop until she had reclaimed everything she lost and returned to her rightful place.
She straightened her shoulders and brushed away the strands of hair falling across her forehead. At the same time, she put back on the elegant mask she had briefly taken off—the very mask that had thoroughly deceived the Duke and Duchess of Taylor. With it, she looked like a demure and innocent noble lady, a flower raised in a greenhouse.
“Jesse, let’s go see the Grand Madam.”
The annex where Grand Madam Eliza resided was located behind the main estate. Between the main house and the annex was a sprawling garden, now adorned with autumnal hues from the seasonal foliage.
Grace calmly walked along the garden path and asked,
“Are we being followed?”
“…I don’t even know if I should call that ‘following,’ milady.”
Jesse glanced behind her with a look of exasperation.
“They might as well be obvious about it or hide properly.”
“You’re saying they’re no professional spy, huh?”
“If that’s what passes for professional, I should change careers.”
Grace smiled faintly.
“Seems they don’t think I’m worth assigning a real spy to.”
A woman brought back by Walter, who had been absent from noble society for ten years.
Everyone—from the lowest maids to the Marchioness Rinko—would assume she was either a fallen noble or a commoner pretending to be one.
They say if three people say the same thing, even a non-existent country is believed to exist. So no matter how perfect her manners were, they would all think, “She’s just a commoner trying to seduce a duke.”
Which meant even if she made regular visits to the Grand Madam, no one would care. They’d see it as a pairing of a woman soon to be kicked out and an old relic tucked away in the back rooms. That kind of disregard was exactly what Grace needed right now.
“A relic in the back rooms…”
Grace came to a halt as they entered the annex garden.
The lawn had been freshly trimmed, the scent of cut grass strong in the air. But looking at the outer walls of the annex, it was clear no one had tended to them for a long time.
“They must’ve rushed to clean up.”
“Yes. It clearly isn’t their usual standard.”
Her hands, demurely clasped, tensed slightly.
At that moment, the door opened as if someone inside had sensed their presence, and a middle-aged woman appeared.
With dark gray hair and eyes, and a height far above the average woman, she was once a maid who had long served the fearsome Queen of Richmond—a woman everyone once trembled before.
Her gaze toward Grace held no warmth. Yet Grace responded with a soft smile and said,
“Nice to meet you, Madam Isaac. I’ve come to see the Grand Madam.”
Madam Isaac studied her with an unreadable expression before turning around.
“Please follow me.”
The inside of the annex was, at best, monastic—and at worst, tomb-like.
Madam Isaac led Grace to the parlor. There didn’t seem to be a single proper maid. She even served the tea herself, then left after saying someone would be with her shortly.
By the time Grace had finished her cup, Madam Isaac returned alone.
“The Grand Madam says she will not see you. Please leave.”
“You did say that the lady brought by the Duke wished to meet her, didn’t you?”
Grace gently set her teacup down without making a sound and looked directly up at Madam Isaac.
“Go back and tell her again.”
The command in her tone made Madam Isaac’s brow twitch. But it was the unexpected name that followed which left her completely stiff.
“Tell her that Grace of House Taylor wishes to see her.”
The name that froze Madam Isaac also stirred Grand Madam Eliza, who had been dozing all day.
“…What?”
“The woman brought by His Grace claims she is Grace of House Taylor.”
Eliza blinked slowly, still lying in bed, and only after a long pause did she speak.
“Taylor?”
“Yes, Grand Madam.”
Eliza slowly began to rise, her body feeling heavier than the world itself. Even that small movement made Madam Isaac’s heart race—it had been a long time since Eliza had moved at all.
“…Grace, you said.”
“Yes.”
Eliza fell silent, thinking for a moment, then asked,
“Does the girl have blond hair?”
“Yes, blond hair and pale green eyes.”
“She must be a descendant of the late Duke.”
“…Would you like to meet her?”
Madam Isaac hoped she would. If anything could stir even a sliver of interest in Eliza, whoever it was, it didn’t matter.
Eliza was silent for a long time before asking in a husky voice,
“The Duke brought her?”
“Yes. Would you like to see her?”
But Eliza laid back down again. Her body felt impossibly heavy.
“Tell her to leave.”
“…Grand Madam.”
“Arwen.”
“Yes?”
“You’ve done enough. Your sons have returned. Stop playing nursemaid to me and go back to your family.”
Madam Isaac’s eyes welled up with tears. She quickly blinked them away and tidied Eliza’s bed, pretending she had heard nothing. Then she forced her voice to sound bright.
“Rest well. I’ll deliver your message.”
Madam Isaac made her way straight back to the parlor.
Grace had gotten up and was slowly looking around the room.
“I’m sorry, but the Grand Madam still refuses to see you. Please return.”
Rejected once again, Grace showed not the slightest sign of distress. Instead of leaving the room, she purposefully looked around even more before asking,
“Why is the Grand Madam’s residence in such a state?”
“….”
When she glanced at Madam Isaac, she noticed a tiny crack in her expression. Grace gently pressed further with a softer tone.
“Why is there only one lady-in-waiting? Why aren’t there any maids? The grass was just cut today, and the scent is overwhelming. What does that say about its usual condition?”
A vein rose in Madam Isaac’s neck. Grace didn’t miss the opportunity—she stepped closer. Though Madam Isaac instinctively moved back, Grace’s whisper beat her to it.
“Why have you done nothing while your mistress was treated this way?”
“That’s…!”
Madam Isaac’s face contorted. Grace looked at her frozen face and spoke gently, as if consoling her.
“I understand. I know how those who steal their master’s place behave.”
“….”
“I endured thirteen years in the Taylor household, barely clinging to life. But I was always preparing, without anyone knowing. Surely, His Grace is doing the same.”
“….”
“Look at me. Do I seem like someone who came here blinded by love?”
Her pale green eyes sparked like sunlight on spring leaves. Overwhelmed by a strange, commanding force, Madam Isaac was left speechless. Grace, like a devil in disguise, whispered once more.
“Madam Isaac, it’s time to return Richmond to its rightful master.”
