Chapter 72
Even in a state of memory loss, Zeppelin handled most of his tasks with ease.
It seemed that basic knowledge, his artistic sense, and his business acumen all still remained in his mind.
In fact, he might have become even sharper without his formerly fiery temper.
According to Octavio, Zeppelin had recovered enough to soon attend a state council meeting.
Of course, even if Zeppelin fully returned, as long as he didn’t regain his memories, it would be no different from working as Octavio’s puppet.
While Zeppelin was unconscious, a mountain of tasks had piled up that he needed to handle.
Because of this, he only occasionally stopped by the ballroom to check on progress.
It seemed that Zeppelin had even forgotten just how important this ball was to him.
Otherwise, the unfortunate situation of Alicia hosting the autumn ball wouldn’t have happened.
The Devonshire family’s autumn ball was not an ordinary social event.
It was the occasion to announce the business plans for the following year to investors.
It was a meaningful event where investors were gathered and the art pieces collected over the years were displayed.
Especially, the time when people were shown the Hall of Light and shared their impressions was the moment Zeppelin most looked forward to each year.
“Why are they acting so arrogant as if the Count will just suddenly remember everything?”
Grace clicked her tongue.
Now, her only hope was for Zeppelin to regain his memories as soon as possible.
But no matter how much time passed, there was no sign of his memories returning.
Clearly, Octavio was up to some trick again.
“Do I have to just watch the ball fall apart like this?”
Grace lamented, surveying the ballroom being ruined by Alicia’s terrible taste.
Alicia had changed everything Grace had painstakingly arranged since morning to suit her own whims.
It was as if she were competing with Grace, deliberately interfering with every little thing.
Grace wanted desperately to run to Zeppelin and tell him everything, but she could not.
Octavio always hovered near Zeppelin, hiding the truth with ironclad secrecy.
A silence order had been imposed throughout the entire Count’s mansion, so none of the servants could speak freely.
It meant she had no choice but to treat Alicia as the lady of the house.
“Are you really going to leave it like this? How hideous…”
Susan, who had approached unnoticed, commented as she scanned the overly extravagant scene, frowning.
Grace gritted her teeth as if she might break under the pressure.
“What can I do? In time, the Count will realize that woman is daring to impersonate Lady Rebecca. When that time comes, she’ll pay for today’s humiliation.”
Susan flinched at Grace’s sharp words.
Grace glared at Alicia with eyes that seemed ready to strangle her.
But she soon sighed.
“If I don’t want to see that sight, I need to leave this place.”
Grace’s steps were heavy as she headed outside.
The sun was setting. The entire mansion was bathed in a deep red glow.
Grace wandered aimlessly, staggering slightly.
She brushed her hands along the mansion walls. With every brick she touched, memories shimmered under her fingertips.
There was nothing in the mansion she hadn’t touched.
It was hers. She knew it, cherished it, and had to claim it as her own more than anyone else.
Yet why was everything she loved being ruined?
It started with Leila. Then Rebecca, and now the entire Devonshire estate was collapsing.
Suddenly, her daughter Leila came to mind.
It was almost the anniversary of her death.
“How audacious.”
Not only had she failed to meet expectations, but she had left her mother behind.
Grace recalled Leila’s faint smile and the words she had spoken when her breath was fading:
“Finally, I am free from your hands. This life has been a living hell. Never forget it. It was you, Mother, who killed me.”
“Haa…”
The shock of that moment hit Grace again, forcing her to lean against the wall and catch her breath.
She could not understand why the child had said such things.
She had given only the best, taught only good things.
How could she repay her like this?
“It was just a delusion. I must have been out of my mind and imagined it.”
So Grace chose to deceive herself.
She wrapped her memories with Leila in beauty, hiding the ugly truth inside.
It was the only way she could survive.
Leila was her first true loss.
When her husband died, she felt little. It could hardly be called a grand loss.
But her daughter’s death always pierced her heart painfully.
Leila’s image haunted her constantly, leaving her chest tight with sorrow. She wanted to cry.
But she could not show weakness. In this battlefield-like place, tears would only be used against her.
Grace forced back her tears and headed to a secluded corner of the garden.
There was a small hut where Zeppelin had played as a child.
For a long time, the family had no children, so the hut had been left almost abandoned.
Grace had redecorated the ownerless hut to her tastes. Soon, the humble hut had become a parlor comparable to any mansion room.
Whenever she needed peace, Grace came to this hut.
Here, she imagined herself as the mistress of the Devonshire estate, sipping from a fine teacup.
It often eased her despair.
She needed that right now.
“Let’s go together.”
As Grace grasped the door handle of the hut in search of solace, a familiar voice softly brushed against her eardrum.
Turning her head, she froze upon seeing sharp brown eyes.
The owner of the brown eyes swiftly struck her neck.
Her vision flashed briefly before her consciousness abruptly snapped away.
“Goodbye.”
After seeing off the last guest before the break, Sandra collapsed onto the sofa, patting her shoulders.
When a staff member brought her an ice pack, she pressed it to her forehead.
“Oh! Finally, I feel alive. Good heavens, it feels like my ears are bleeding.”
“Because of Duke Johannes and that mysterious woman, right?”
The staff member had casually mentioned it while putting up the “break time” sign outside the shop.
Sandra groaned at the mere mention of the name, as if her head were about to split.
“Yes. I thought I’d die pretending to hear about it for the first time, no matter how many people brought it up today.”
The rumor that Duke Johannes had invited a woman into his castle for the first time spread like wildfire.
Moreover, the fact that she had visited wearing a black veil made the gossip all the more intriguing.
Some said she was a foreign princess, some said she was of low birth, and others claimed she was married.
Though baseless, one thing was certain.
Duke Johannes was completely infatuated with her.
Anonymous reports from the castle claimed that the Duke had taken her wrist and led her to a secret room accessible only to him and his closest steward.
From this, speculation ran rampant that their relationship was far from casual.
Sandra, piecing together the information she had gathered, staggered to her feet on the sofa.
“I’ll rest in the room for a bit. Don’t let anyone in.”
“Understood.”
Sandra went to the staff-only resting area and lay on the soft bed for a short nap.
She needed to conserve energy for the chatty noblewomen who would arrive in the evening.
But sleep would not come.
Sandra was just as curious about Duke Johannes’s woman.
Whoever she was, if she were the Duke’s beloved, the social scene might shift dramatically.
Currently, the Rotandus Empire’s social scene was practically ruled by the Marchioness Petunia.
Her tyranny had left many victims.
The appearance of a rival capable of challenging Petunia was welcome news for Sandra.
When social factions split, merchants like her would profit.
Everyone would rush to obtain the flashiest, most beautiful clothes and accessories.
As Sandra pondered the potential gains from the Duke’s secret lover, a staff member cautiously opened the door.
“A guest has arrived…”
“I told you, no one is to come in.”
Sandra asked sharply, exhausted.
The staff member hesitated, then spoke.
“Well… she said if I told you it was your muse, you’d know.”
“What do you mean? Send her away immediately…”
Sandra was about to wave her hand dismissively but jumped to her feet, hastily removing her blindfold.
“What does she look like?”
“I’m not sure. She’s wearing a black veil.”
Seeing the hidden face, Sandra was certain it was her.
She quickly tidied her disheveled hair and went outside.
A young woman of striking presence sat in the guest chair.
Although her face was hidden, Sandra immediately recognized her by her height and overall elegance.
There was only one person in the entire empire who had ever claimed to be her muse.
“Rebecca!”
Rebecca slowly rose as she saw Sandra.
“It’s been a while. How have you been?”
“Of course, I’ve been well…”
Sandra cast a glance at the staff member, who was watching curiously.
Since Rebecca had come hiding her face, it was clear she did not want to reveal her identity yet.
“Ahem. You go run an errand in the market for a moment. Get the fabric I mentioned this morning.”
“What? But that’s not really my job…”
“If I say go, then go. Why so many complaints? Now, go quickly!”
Sandra ushered the staff member out.
After seeing them walk toward the market, Sandra hurriedly locked the shop and drew all the curtains.
She turned, clutching her racing heart, and faced Rebecca.
Rebecca slowly removed her veil.
As her figure gradually became visible, Sandra nearly forgot to breathe.
