RAMHM Chapter 14

A Birthday Party for a Ghost

Count Acacia and I normally don't dine at the same table. We were like beds of thorns to each other. But today only, I must dine with him and even have tea time. A peaceful time with strange tension flowing.

"How about we start preparing for divorce?"

I suggested nonchalantly to the Count who was watching my mood. My heart pounded because it was my first such transgression, but deceiving Count Acacia was easy.

The Count, who'd searched for me desperately the moment he regained consciousness after collapsing at the Victory Commemoration Ceremony, had aged enough in a few days to be lying in a coffin. Between his sagging, aged eyelids, amber eyes sparkled. At my words about wanting a divorce, he seemed ready to jump for joy and held out documents he seemed to have signed in advance. His face was full of baseless belief that this was naturally the result of consultation with Novian. The documents were so worn at the edges already, showing how desperately he'd waited.

I examined the documents for a long while, then said quietly.

"What about alimony?"

"A-alimony?"

To divorce Count Acacia and not live as Novian's mistress, I'd need to live a new life—and couldn't do that without money. With no skills, I at least needed money.

"H-how much?"

"Give me what you think is appropriate."

Since it was a marriage directly ordered by the Grand Duke, I must have brought substantial dowry. Count Acacia shook his leg anxiously, then raised his trembling hands to show two fingers.

"W-would this much do?"

At the expression unbecoming of a noble, I frowned briefly—seeing my face, he flinched and raised one more thumb.

"Th-this much...?"

"Think about the benefits you'll gain, Count."

I planned to take several maids. Since I'd take some of the labor force idling in this masterless house, naturally I wanted to receive more to cover their wages. But he seemed to think the benefit he'd gain was some reward Novian would give him, his eyes sparkling. And I didn't bother to correct that misunderstanding.

Watching the fingers that seemed ready to lift or not, I finally couldn't stand it and grabbed two fingers myself to lift them. The Count, shuddering as if touched by an insect, let out a long sigh and finished filling out the divorce application. The divorce application that would deposit an amount equal to five fingers into Bliea Acacia's account the moment it was accepted came into my hands.

"And until I enter the Grand Ducal Estate, I plan to use this estate and the title of the Count's wife a bit longer—that's all right, isn't it?"

He nodded fervently as if he'd do anything as long as I'd leave. When the Count's body, which seemed somehow lighter, headed for the study, I exhaled the breath I'd been holding. I'd taken the first step away from Novian's influence.

Let's focus only on the new life with this new body.

Any resentment, revenge, or sadness—I could only do those things if my footing was solid.

And I'll say goodbye to Novian, who thinks he has Bliea.

I tried hard to think only of what lay ahead, ignoring how the back of my head still stung.

To the Count, who left for work as usual, I hinted that if he didn't want to offend Novian's mood, he shouldn't breathe a word about the divorce. Soon after, an invitation from the Grand Ducal Estate arrived at the Count's estate without its Count. As the mistress, I should naturally open it myself, but I felt strangely reluctant. Reverently offered on a gold tray by Marge's hands, I avoided that invitation all morning.

I was in the household library, self-studying from a <Beginner's Ellaconian> book.

I'd only attended the Academy for a few years as a child, so those memories were almost nonexistent. Though I'd studied quite diligently until I quit, during that first year, how much I'd suffered because of Ellaconian...

"Ugh."

Of course, hiring a translator and asking them to interpret would be fastest, but how could I entrust this diary without knowing what content it held? The words written in the diary wouldn't be that difficult, so if I diligently relearned just the basics, the memories of past study might revive and I could interpret it.

It's just a diary, after all.

And the moment I realized that, I reflected on those days when I'd studied so carelessly I couldn't interpret even such basic sentences.

I'd posted an advertisement for a tutor, but while many in Ellaconia learned the Imperial language, few in the Empire learned Ellaconian, so no one had applied yet. The Empire and Ellaconia didn't have much exchange, but they weren't far distance-wise, so those who learned and taught Ellaconian weren't exactly rare. If I could just find someone tight-lipped and trustworthy, there was nothing I couldn't learn. Though it would be quite irritating.

Compared to intuitive Imperial language, Ellaconian with its varied grammar and word usage was—at least for me—a very irritating language.

"Madam, didn't the Grand Duke send something?"

"Mm..."

As I diligently repeated Ellaconian alphabet in my head, Yona asked me carefully. The maids busily doing their work also glanced around, curious about where exactly the Grand Duke had invited me. I was just as curious, but knowing I couldn't smile wherever he invited me, I was putting it off. Because I wasn't mentally prepared yet.

For someone who doesn't even like parties.

And what kind of party during the hundred days of mourning for Adrienne? A tea party? Imagining Novian touching a toy-like tea party set with his long fingers made me laugh absurdly. If he'd sent a tea party invitation, then yes, I might be able to laugh like this—by the time I had that thought, I reached slowly and quietly for the invitation. It was when the maids, growing tired one by one, were leaving the main hall. The content was outrageous. Precisely, the very beginning was. And it was Novian's own handwriting.

"This is insane."

"What's wrong, Madam?"

When Yona, who'd been diligently wiping the windowsill, tried to approach, I raised my hand to stop her. Whose birthday celebration was being held right now? Thinking perhaps Novian had written the wrong name, I read the invitation calmly. The more I read, the more it was utter nonsense.

Novian was now sending around invitations for a 'birthday party for a ghost.' At the very top of the invitation, <For Adrienne's Birthday> was in Novian's handwriting, and the nonsense written below was the butler's handwriting.

I could only laugh at the absurdity. He must clearly know that as a vassal, the Acacia Count household could never miss events at the Grand Ducal Estate. This ridiculous birthday party for a ghost was a ploy to drag me in.

Once again—utterly unfamiliar. Was he a man who liked events this much? He hated change and didn't like receiving attention. So what was this? Wasn't this perfect fodder for people's gossip?

The devoted husband Grand Duke Trovika, half-mad with his wife's death, holds a birthday party for a ghost.

He was throwing that kind of bait to society. Why on earth? Did he really love Adrienne? Ah, maybe that could be it.

"Huhu—"

I laughed aloud quietly. On the day of the Victory Commemoration Ceremony, on that terrace, he'd said clearly—that he loved Adrienne. Then that he wanted Bliea.

When he'd invited me directly, I couldn't not go. Moreover, Count Acacia was running around here and there again on Novian's orders. Without even an old man to send in my place, I had no choice but to go myself. And I'd have to face Novian again and confirm it—whether this insane act was to commemorate 'Adrienne' or to drag in 'Bliea' and do something.

Either way, since I was planning to get one over on him, I needed to dutifully accept his invitation and humor him a bit. Even while thinking that and dressing up—unlike the spirited morning, I couldn't stop tears from suddenly pouring out.

"Madam, the carriage is ready."

At those words, I quickly checked my outfit again. My appearance reflected in the mirror was probably 'Bliea Acacia, the Count's wife' herself, as Novian knew her.

Sensuously curling black hair and moderately heavy eye makeup. Lively lips and rosy cheeks. Whether for a ghost or not, a party was a party—Novian had sent a red, flashy dress, so I wore it. An outdoor dress that the past me wouldn't have worn much, and during my illness couldn't even think of wearing.

"If I'd known it suited me this well, I should have worn it at least once."

"Pardon?"

At Yona's bewildered face, I immediately shook my head. Throughout the journey to the carriage, I repeated foolish thoughts. Setting aside resentment toward Novian—why had he come to love Bliea, who had the same face as me? Thinking such thoughts and searching for reasons, all the arrows eventually returned to me.

If only I'd been a little healthier.

If I'd gone out frequently with a healthy body and been up-to-date with the latest fashions. Mingling with noblewomen and sharing ways to capture a husband's heart. Like how Bliea knew her own charms well—wouldn't I, with the same face, have eventually created a style like Bliea's now? Remembering the sickly Adrienne who valued only classical, elegant beauty and lay around in nightgowns with the excuse of illness—I couldn't stop such thoughts.

I stood blankly at the party venue entrance.

"I-I'll go get you a shawl or something, Madam!"

The party venue supposedly for Adrienne's birthday had a very solemn atmosphere. Not a single person wore colorful clothes like my red dress.

The gazes reaching me were too piercing.

The wreaths placed in one corner of the Grand Ducal Estate's main hall read: 'Commemorating the Memorial Service for Grand Duchess Adrienne Swan Trovika.' Memorial service.

A banquet held to remember someone. So everyone wore black clothes, and some even held Bibles. I stood somewhere in a corner of the party hall, flustered. I was so confused my legs even wobbled.

"Oh dear."

"!"

"My loyal vassal's wife, the Count's wife of Acacia, has arrived, yet no one has attended to her."

A familiar voice. A strange tone that was clearly sarcastic. It was Novian.

Remembering I'd come to humor him, I whispered toward him, who'd already grasped my wrist firmly.

"...I didn't know it would be this kind of occasion. And why these clothes..."

"I see."

He nodded as if understanding completely, then spoke loudly for the whispering people around to hear.

"Since the lady is not accustomed to the capital's social circles, I understand. If you don't mind, I'll give you something to cover yourself from my wife's dressing room. I can give you a gift there as well."

At such parties remembering and commemorating someone, the host sometimes gifted guests items that evoked memories of that person.

"...Yes, thank you."

I answered gratefully, wanting to first escape the pouring gazes.

"Butler."

"Yes, Your Grace!"

"First, attend carefully to the wife of Count Acacia."

"Yes!"

The butler smiled broadly and offered his arm. I'd been trembling since earlier. Not only Novian who'd humiliated me, but from the moment I entered this Grand Ducal Estate, it felt as if the soul that had been silently abused was screaming. And the person who offered me his arm—

"Shall we go, Madam?"

For the past two years, was precisely that butler Gaspar who'd been silent and complicit in the maids' rudeness.