“If someone saw you, they’d think you were being dragged into the wedding hall with a rope around your neck. You weren’t treating that guy Karia coldly all the time, were you?”
As the saying goes, ‘you can tell ten things by looking at one’, if the duke had shown any sign of respecting Karia, his daughter wouldn’t have been so rude to her.
They’d chosen not to press the matter, sensing she didn’t want to talk about it, but they’d clearly heard she’d been hit. Honestly, when he heard that, he wanted to flip the whole mansion upside down, in-law or not. But since Karia stayed calm, he held it in.
“She said the duchess hit her, right? Ha! Always bragging about being an old noble family—and yet it’s a mess.”
“Alcard.”
Alcard, stewing in anger as he walked down to the foyer, happened to spot his brother looking like he was heading out. He gave him a polite nod. Unlike Alcard, whose cravat was gone and whose uniform collar was disheveled, Grenberic’s attire was immaculate, without a single wrinkle.
“Going somewhere?”
“Father asked me to handle something. And you?”
“Oh, just wandering around.”
“I hear you’ve been digging into Karia lately.”
Alcard tried to brush off Grenberic’s question, but before he could even attempt it, he was caught. Seeing his brother’s emotionless face, Alcard quietly clicked his tongue.
The reason Alcard had tried to hide his actions from Grenberic was because it was hard to say, even jokingly, that the two had a good relationship.
From a young age, Grenberic had matured quickly and acted like the heir he was raised to be. Wherever he went, he always carried himself with dignity—except in front of Karia.
Toward her, he was consistently sharp-tongued and cold.
‘Why are you like that? She’s just a little girl. Why do you always end up making her cry?’
‘The problem is that thing came into our family in the first place. I nearly lost Mother again because of her! And why are you defending her? Decide who matters more—her or Mother!’
Grenberic was obsessively protective of their mother, the Grand Duchess. When Karia arrived and the Grand Duchess’s health began to deteriorate, he was constantly on edge, afraid of losing her. His hostility toward Karia was a reaction to that fear.
“The butler told you, didn’t he? That foxy old man. It’s just… she’s changed so much, I’m trying to figure her out. Don’t worry too much.”
“–Is she sick or something?”
“What?”
Alcard had expected him to scold him for wasting time. But instead, Grenberic expressed concern? And for Karia, no less? That was unheard of.
Grenberic rarely, if ever, brought her up first. Alcard suddenly wondered if his brother knew something he didn’t. He quickly came down the stairs and stood in front of him.
“She’s sick? What do you mean? She looked more energetic than ever last time I saw her…”
“If not, then never mind.”
Grenberic shook his head and stopped speaking when Alcard looked genuinely confused. Then he adjusted his sleeves and collar and turned to leave.
“If it’s a money issue, don’t bother Father—come to me. That’s all.”
“Brother!”
But Grenberic didn’t stop and walked out the front door. Alcard scratched the back of his head in frustration. Something was definitely going on…
“Maybe I should check out that orphanage she volunteers at.”
It was the only place he hadn’t visited yet—Karia volunteered there every two to three weeks.
—
But just as he made up his mind to visit the orphanage, Alcard turned his horse around at an unexpected sight. While passing through the shopping district, he happened to spot a familiar head of neatly tied golden hair.
He saw Karia standing in front of a lavish carriage and steered his horse toward her without hesitation.
“Oh.”
“What the—what are the odds of running into you here?”
While Alcard dismounted with a smile, Karia made a face like she’d bitten into something sour. It was obvious she wasn’t happy to see him.
Alcard didn’t know whether to be glad that she no longer hid her feelings or upset that she was openly uncomfortable around him.
Still, with his usual shamelessness, he put on a friendly face and approached her.
“You should’ve just kept walking.”
“That’s a bit harsh. Anyway, what’s with all the children’s clothes?”
She was standing in front of a kids’ clothing store. Judging by how the staff were loading numerous packages onto the carriage, it wasn’t just a few pieces.
“Oh, are they for the orphanage?”
He asked casually, then immediately realized it was a mistake. They hadn’t seen each other in years—how would he know that unless he’d been digging around? She might feel creeped out. Well… he had been snooping.
But instead of looking annoyed, Karia seemed surprised, as if he’d reminded her of something she’d forgotten.
“Oh, the orphanage.”
She had completely forgotten.
Her face grew serious. The orphanage director knew about her illness. If word got out, the royal family—who didn’t want it known that she had a genetic blood disease—would surely cause trouble.
And if the Duke of Pandeon found out, he might refuse the divorce altogether. After all, there’s a big difference between being divorced and widowed in noble society. And if she died, her wealth would default to House Pandeon.
She made up her mind to visit the orphanage soon and make sure everyone stayed quiet.
“Then who are the clothes for? Don’t tell me… they’re for that bratty young lady?”
“That’s not something you need to know, Lord Alcard.”
Still here, huh. While she was deep in thought, Alcard leaned against her carriage like he planned to stay. For someone who claimed to have run into her by chance, he was annoyingly persistent.
“Aren’t you leaving? Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Nope, not busy. Since fate brought us together, how about a cup of tea?”
“I already had tea.”
She refused flatly. But Alcard was not the type to back off so easily.
“Really? Ahh, why does my back hurt so much today? I don’t think I can ride anymore. What a shame.”
He pulled a very obvious trick. His horse—who’d been galloping loyally—would’ve been insulted if it heard him.
“Oh, right. Did you come here in a carriage?”
“Haa…”
Even though he was already leaning on it, he was acting like he had no choice. Karia realized he wasn’t going anywhere and simply turned around. Ignoring him might be the better option.
Since she hadn’t outright rejected him, Alcard naturally followed behind her. But when he peeked inside the carriage, he was genuinely surprised.
“Whoa, what’s this? The Duke’s carriages are this big? It’s almost like my mother’s!”
“If you’re not getting in, I’ll leave without you.”
Karia looked like she’d slam the door any second, so Alcard handed his horse off to the groom and hitched it to the carriage. His noble steed, once used to racing across the plains, was now pulling a carriage.
Inside, Alcard chatted nonstop like he was reunited with an old friend. Karia mostly ignored him, but his shamelessness knew no bounds.
“Wait, why are we stopping already? The Pandeon estate’s still a long way off. Aren’t we in the townhouse district?”
“Get off. I’ll give you tea, at least.”
Townhouses were smaller residences used by nobles with estates outside the capital during social seasons. Major houses like Pandeon or the Grand Duke’s didn’t usually need them, since they lived in the capital year-round with large staffed estates. But land in the capital was limited, and not all nobles could afford such homes—hence the townhouse district.
“What? Whose place is this? It doesn’t look like a café.”
Karia didn’t answer. She walked through the well-manicured garden and opened the door to a lavish three-story home with a beautiful terrace.
The servants cleaning inside noticed her and smiled. They immediately stopped what they were doing and bowed deeply.
“Welcome home, Mistress!”
“Yes. Bessie, we have a guest—prepare tea in the parlor.”
A maid with braided hair brought a pair of indoor shoes and placed them at Karia’s feet. She changed without so much as a glance toward Alcard and said,
“This is my house.”
Alcard stood dumbfounded as a silver-haired butler approached and offered to take his coat. He skillfully folded the wrinkled garment and reported that the ordered sofa and bookshelves had arrived, and the curtains and carpets had been changed.
The entire scene was so natural and fluid that Alcard was momentarily speechless. But soon, he shook his head hard and demanded an explanation.
“The Pandeon estate is right around the corner. Why do you need a townhouse? And wait, they called you Mistress? Not My Lady? Are you saying this house isn’t the Duke’s—it’s yours?”
“Yes.”
Her crisp reply made his expression even more complicated. This townhouse was large, e
ven for a noble. Just from a glance, it was clear that many servants were employed here.
There was no way this was a cheap place. So how on earth was she the owner?
