RAMHM Chapter 59

The New Grand Duchess-Designate

Starting with Count Raelon—Jimskehr's father and a member of the Crown Prince's faction—a procession of vassals who'd ridden hard on horseback now packed the area in front of the Grand Ducal Estate. Every last one of them demanded a private audience with Grand Duke Novian, acting as though they'd gladly camp through the night until the gates opened.

All of them had rushed here the moment the request went out—the request for suitable adopted daughter positions, the sort of respectable identity that would serve the next Grand Duchess-designate.

Inside the estate, Novian watched the small commotion and shut the window. Thunk. The sound was sharp, final.

It was similar to when he'd first sought their cooperation to launder Bliea's identity, but this reaction—more fervent.

Bardenaldo, who'd arrived at the Grand Ducal Estate earlier than Count Raelon, shrugged his shoulders as though he'd anticipated this very uproar. He waved the newspaper he'd been reading.

"Soon this paper will be plastered with news of Uncle's wedding again."

"No, Your Highness. This time it won't be quite so boisterous."

Novian pressed his temples, his face haggard as though he hadn't slept all night. Bardenaldo watched him collapse into his desk chair, then folded the newspaper he'd been holding, his expression bemused.

"You've made a difficult decision, Uncle."

"Better to keep that woman under my watch than let her run wild as she pleases."

"But I wonder if it wasn't a somewhat hasty judgment. This isn't the method Duke Castagna wanted—from his perspective, it'll look like you've slipped away like an eel again."

Novian pressed his throbbing head and gave a short laugh. Hah. Just as the Crown Prince said—what Duke Castagna wanted was for Bliea, whose identity had been laundered through him, to officially become Grand Duchess and exert influence over Novian, the thorn in his side. Better to humor Bliea's desperate love prattle, bring her here, and sever her connection to Doris entirely than let her play spy on Castagna's strings.

"If even one article appears at this point about me 'stealing the Second Prince's lover,' it won't be favorable. I'll announce the designation privately and schedule the formal elevation to Grand Duchess after the late Grand Duchess's funeral concludes. Even that, I'll delay as long as possible."

"...About that woman, Uncle."

The Crown Prince's hands were empty now. He smiled with a peculiar light in his eyes.

"Is it truly without any personal motive that you're keeping her by your side for my sake?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm someone who knew the face of the Pirreta Princess very well, am I not?"

The air in the study grew heavy. But Bardenaldo's eyes remained innocently clear.

"Isn't there even a small part of you that wants to keep something similar nearby—a substitute for what you couldn't have?"

"Is that woman even remotely suited for the position of Grand Duchess?"

Novian twisted his lips as he added:

"If it weren't for Duke Castagna's pressure, Your Highness would have opposed this as well. Regardless of what that woman's face looks like."

The Crown Prince gazed steadily at Novian, whose voice had risen slightly, then slowly stood and approached him. Concern now clouded his affectionate face.

"Don't I, as your nephew, know best how much Uncle cherished the Princess? I apologize if I offended you. I know you always sacrifice yourself for this nephew, so I'll leave this matter entirely to your judgment. It's not the method Duke Castagna wanted, but at least if the woman connected to Doris becomes the Grand Duchess-designate, he'll understand you've conceded as much as possible."

Bardenaldo patted his shoulder once, then swept out of the study with unhurried grace.

Left alone, Novian reflected on the previous night when he'd been unable to sleep even an hour—the whole situation felt dreamlike.

'You use Count Acacia to shake me, and I use His Highness the Second Prince to shake you. In the end, what we both want is the same.'

'Is it truly without any personal motive that you're keeping her by your side for my sake?'

Bliea's voice, which he'd chewed over all night, and the Crown Prince's voice from moments ago crossed paths in his mind, circling.

'Rather than waste time on something you can't have, why not have me—something you can?'

'Isn't there even a small part of you that wants to keep something similar nearby—a substitute for what you couldn't have?'

Novian's shoulders shook as he laughed. The desire for Adrienne—the Adrienne he couldn't possess—felt like a specter coiling around his entire body, mocking him. When he thought of that woman, reading the letter he'd sent to humor her whims and laughing until the estate shook, his insides twisted violently. But at the same time, somewhere in a corner of his heart, the thought dominated his mind that bringing that woman into the Grand Ducal Estate was ultimately inevitable fate.

The moment the word "fate" crossed his mind, Novian suddenly hurled the crystal water glass on his desk toward the study door.

Crash!

The loud noise sent shards flying in all directions.

"Y-Your Grace?"

"...Gaspar."

At the sharp shattering sound, Gaspar rushed into the study and froze mid-step. The glass fragments scattered across the floor looked dangerous at a glance. But more dangerous still was his lord's face—cold as stone.

"Prepare a new room."

"Pardon? What room—"

"A new Grand Duchess-designate will be arriving soon. Only a select few will know this information until it's formally announced after the funeral, so you'll need to keep the servants' mouths tightly shut."

"The Grand Duchess-designate, you mean—"

"Countess Bliea Acacia."

"!"

"A pitiful widow taken in by her widower lord... Frame it roughly along those lines."

Even under Gaspar's gaze—Gaspar who knew full well his lord wasn't particularly compassionate—Novian dismissed him from the study without further comment.

The maids who quickly followed Gaspar gleamed with anticipation. They'd been unsettled for some time already, having overheard Count Raelon and the vassals protesting at the estate entrance.

"What's happening, butler?"

"Is Count Raelon's daughter becoming the new Grand Duchess?"

"Everyone, attention."

Only after they'd moved far from Novian's study did Gaspar finally speak, his voice trembling. His gaze naturally fell on Annie's group, and on Marge standing a distance away, shaking.

"As soon as the funeral concludes, a new mistress will arrive at the estate."

"Good heavens!"

"Is it true?"

"Already? Right after the funeral?"

The maids pressed their hands over their mouths to stifle their outbursts, staring at Gaspar with eyes that mixed peculiar anticipation and anxiety. Annie's most of all.

"Countess Bliea Acacia has been designated as the Grand Duchess-to-be. Begin preparing her room so she can be served without discomfort. Inform the head maid as well and await her instructions."

"That's impossible!"

At Annie's low scream, Gaspar shook his head and vanished like the wind.

"Annie!"

As Annie's legs gave out beneath her, her group caught her before she could collapse. Annie bit the inside of her mouth hard and glared at Marge. But there was nothing she could do.

Everything was going so smoothly it seemed strange.

Word came from Marge. Gaspar, emerging from the Grand Duke's study, had ordered a room prepared for Countess Bliea Acacia, the new Grand Duchess-designate.

Judging by how warmly Doris greeted me the moment I entered the palace, the rumors of her having eyes and ears in the Grand Ducal Estate weren't false. What she didn't know was that Novian intended to confine me to the Grand Ducal Estate not to forge connections with House Castagna's vassals, but under the sentimental pretense of "a widower lord taking in a pitiful widow."

"Everyone, someone among us is about to receive good news."

At Doris's delighted voice, Nora's eyes gleamed. Recently, Doris had been pushing hard to receive dresses from Madame Leblais now that a major event had concluded—and Nora had been watching for opportunities to supply matching jewelry.

"Bliea has become the next Grand Duchess-designate."

"...Pardon?"

Nora's face, which had been sparkling with expectation, cracked apart. I looked at Doris and smiled shyly. Apparently pleased by the sight, Doris placed her hand over mine and beamed.

"Wh-what do you mean, Your Highness?"

"Exactly what I said. I know it sounds sudden, but truthfully, I've known about Bliea and the Grand Duke's feelings for some time and have been helping them in every way. The Grand Duke's so often at the center of attention that we've kept it secret from everyone—please don't be offended. Of course, everyone must be careful what they say until the ceremony."

"How can a countess possibly become Grand Duchess... Are you joking?"

"Nora. Do I seem like someone with that much free time?"

When Doris replied coldly, Nora's trembling gaze turned to me. I smiled quietly.

Doris, saying I'd have much to prepare, considerately dismissed me from the palace early. As I headed toward the carriage, loud footsteps echoed behind me.

"Countess! ...Countess!"

It was Nora. I stopped walking and glanced back to find Nora still looking dazed, breathing hard as she stared at me.

"I need—I need an explanation!"

"...What would you like to hear?"

"I don't understand how you could possibly rise to a position like Grand Duchess. You've barely been widowed, and His Grace the Grand Duke also—"

"Which means there are no obstacles to us being together."

"...So you were aiming for this from the start when you served Her Highness."

Nora clenched her fists, trembling as she looked at me.

"You won't even be able to appear publicly because of your origins—you'll be a Grand Duchess in name only. What exactly are you scheming? Don't tell me it's personal feelings. If you used Her Highness for such a trivial reason, that would be even more despicable!"

I glanced around briefly to make sure no listening ears were nearby. Only then did Nora seem to realize her voice had been rather loud—she closed her mouth.

"As for you, Countess—you've been desperate to attach your jewelry to Her Highness's dresses. Compared to that, isn't my reason rather romantic?"

"No. I'm different. I'm worried about someone like you—someone with no trust, not an ounce of reliability—being close to Her Highness."

"From where I'm standing, your reliability seems far lower. At least I don't move for money."

Nora trembled as though she'd received a tremendous insult. Her bloodshot eyes gleamed as though she hadn't slept properly in days, ready to hurl abuse at me at any moment. I sighed softly.

"Why not get along with me instead? I can't promise anything else, but I can definitely help you make money."

"Don't insult me. My feelings in serving Her Highness are sincere."

"Oh my, but then it doesn't add up."

I snapped open my fan with a flourish—chwarak!—and waved it leisurely.

"Her Highness sometimes forgets your name and calls you 'Nora,' seemingly dismissing you. Am I mistaken? Not even having your name called properly... receiving such insults while still striving to present Her Highness with one more piece of jewelry—that didn't look very good to me."

"...What would you know."

At Nora's words, spat out with reddened eyes, I laughed softly.

Squabbling with Nora Giusetta, who'd lost her reason to jealousy, was a waste of my time. But if Novian intended to separate me from Doris, I'd need sharper eyes and ears than Madame Leblais or naive Irene.

"Countess. Would you only bow your head to me if I became not Grand Duchess but 'Imperial Princess'?"

"!"

At my words, Nora's eyes—which had been growing angrier—widened. She'd definitely noticed my subtle shift to informal speech.

I was certain Nora was the one who'd diligently carried gossip about Rhodness and me, reporting to Doris about how we'd been at parties together. That would explain her reaction to the term "Imperial Princess." She would have told Doris every absurd story, even the ridiculous notion that a commoner-born widow from the gossip papers might become Imperial Princess.

"If you don't intend to make me your enemy, you'd better do your utmost to make me your friend. As you said—for someone with no roots like me to rise to this position, I've done things you couldn't even imagine."

Having died and come back to life was exactly the sort of thing that qualified, so I spoke with confidence. Nora opened and closed her mouth as though wronged, but when the people scheduled to take tea with Doris began approaching one by one, she glared at me and vanished like the wind.

I didn't particularly blame her or try to stop her. She'd wielded influence in society for quite some time, and her pride—which must have built up during her service as Doris's attendant—had been wounded. I needed to give her time. Either way, outwardly at least, I was currently the most favored, while Nora was being subtly dismissed—she must have accumulated quite a bit of dissatisfaction.