Chapter 19
The incident in which Duchess Monde was officially banned from entering the Imperial Palace was a tragedy for House of Monde, who desperately needed to mingle in high society to gather money and repay their debts, but merely a sensational headline for everyone else, adding glitter to the gossip columns of the social circles.
What an utterly thrilling story! Good heavens, right after the sudden announcement that Grand Duke Lusenford and Princess Ostein are to be married, one exciting event after another keeps happening!
The marriage itself was already intriguing enough, but then Duchess Monde—on the same day—reportedly ignored Princess Ostein’s greeting in the morning and got banned from the Imperial Palace by evening!
Klein high society, pretending to conceal their vulgar curiosity with a thin veneer of decorum, threw even more lavish events, eagerly chasing the latest rumors. Events drew crowds, and crowds inevitably brought new stories—who could possibly refuse?
“I heard, you see, that Duchess Monde already confronted Grand Duke Lusenford herself and gave him a proper scolding. Is that true?”
Gentlemen, feigning ignorance despite already knowing everything, asked pointedly to coax the story out once more.
“Who doesn’t know that? Her voice was so loud it echoed through the Imperial Palace corridors! It was so noisy that His Imperial Majesty the Emperor couldn’t possibly have missed it.”
Ladies, putting on airs of elegance, eagerly fanned the flames of gossip. It was the typical scene in Klein high society.
“Frankly, Monde had to suffer a bit. Without Lusenford, they’ve no means to repay their debts—now they’ve even had to sell off building materials from their own estate, and on top of that, the marriage fell through. What else could they possibly have left?”
“But even so, ignoring a greeting from someone practically her daughter’s age—how could she? Where’s her sense of propriety? She ought to feel ashamed.”
Elderly matrons and gentlemen shook their heads, adding their blunt remarks more openly—precisely because their age acted as a shield, allowing them to speak more vividly. The more cranky they were, the more direct their words became.
“Since the Emperor himself decreed this marriage, obviously she couldn’t protest to His Majesty. Grand Duke Lusenford’s a soldier, so reasoning with him is useless—leaving Princess Ostein as the only easy target, isn’t that right?”
“Even while buried under debt, she kept spending extravagantly. Now she can’t even tell the difference between a mere duke and a member of the Imperial Family.”
Words sharpen with every retelling. This was precisely why House Ostein remained utterly silent—they didn’t need to mention Duchess Monde at all, since everyone else was already talking about her.
The Emperor had settled the matter, and society naturally followed his decree. Thus, House Monde inevitably became isolated.
“What on earth is this, Mother!”
Beatrice Lavalle, the belle of high society, erupted furiously at Duchess Monde.
“Don’t you have any tact? You should’ve done it where no one could see! What were you thinking, doing it right in front of people!”
“There was a pillar blocking the view—I genuinely didn’t see anyone! How could I have known Countess Siner would be standing right there!”
They’d been caught red-handed by Countess Siner and two of the Empress’s maids.
As the Empress’s close friend, chief maid, and someone who looked after Grand Duke Lusenford, Duchess Monde wielded considerable influence even within the Imperial Palace—and that influence translated directly into money. Beatrice, too, brought in enormous sums through her social engagements.
Yet, aside from their massive debts, the two of them lived only for appearances in high society, spending lavishly however much they earned—so in the end, it all balanced out. Their debts were being cleared at a painfully slow pace.
“Oh, stop it! With you joining in too, I can’t think straight!”
“How can I possibly show my face out there when my own mother’s disgraced herself! Don’t you understand how crucial high society is?”
“As if I don’t know that!”
Shouts filled the Monde townhouse in Klein, forcing the maids to stay far away from the drawing room.
“How dare she ignore you like that! Do you really think you’d have gotten this far without me?”
Beatrice rolled her eyes in exasperation at her mother’s shrieking.
“What exactly have you done? Everything I have, I earned myself through hardship and crawling through the mud!”
“Just listen to her!”
“If you were going to brag so loudly, you should’ve gone to Pheon yourself! At least offered your congratulations on his engagement!”
“You do it then!”
In truth, Beatrice’s pride would never allow her to say such words of congratulations to Pheon.
No matter how little she saw Pheon as a man, this was a matter of self-respect. But now that things had turned out this way, all she could do was blame her mother. Blaming others is always the easiest thing anyone can do.
“After raising you so beautifully and supporting you every step of the way, you act as if you did it all yourself? Where do you get the nerve to be so insolent! Is this how I raised you?”
“But you really did act foolishly! Do you even know what people are saying outside? They’re mocking you—‘Of all people, how dare Duchess Monde treat Princess Ostein that way!’ Now that you’ve done that, what am I supposed to be to that girl!”
Caella! Honestly, Beatrice herself had felt dizzy when the engagement was announced—it was as if the Emperor himself were telling her, “Know your place.”
Caella de Chasser, that sniveling little girl who’d always trailed after Pheon despite holding a higher status than Beatrice herself, was now being married off to him. While the three of them were together, Caella had seemed laughable—but to outsiders, Beatrice was clearly seen as Pheon’s mistress.
She didn’t want to be that. Her dreams reached much higher. After clawing her way this far, the moment Pheon announced his marriage, everything suddenly felt wrong, as if she were tumbling downhill—and it deeply unsettled her.
“Don’t you understand how vital it is for us to enter the Imperial Palace? And now we’re banned for three whole months! Do you really think you’ll still hold your position as chief maid to the Empress after that?”
“Who’s going to take it from me? I’m the chief maid—they’ve only grounded me for three months. And stop making such a fuss. I can still go anywhere else besides the palace.”
“Don’t be so stupid! What good is going anywhere else if you can’t go to the palace?”
Duchess Monde had held the privilege—unlike other nobles—of approaching the Empress, whom the Emperor rarely allowed near. But with the Empress now bedridden and palace access revoked, the losses were devastating.
“You really say the most outrageous things to your own mother! Did you grow up all by yourself, huh?”
“You’ve made such a mess, and yet you still don’t grasp the situation! Everyone’s laughing at us right now, and soon they’ll be gossiping about how extravagant that girl Caella’s wedding dress will be!”
Attention would be stolen away. Beatrice lived solely on attention—just that one thing. She had always satisfied her desires by looking down on and dismissing Caella.
It was infuriating when someone from that quiet, docile, book-reading, blindly devoted type suddenly jumped into the spotlight—especially since there was nothing she could do about their superior status.
Regardless of her feelings toward Pheon, Beatrice resolved to make Caella pay for this properly. Caella had always been someone who, whenever stepped on, couldn’t even whimper—so it was unacceptable for her to climb higher now that she’d finally married the man of her dreams.
*
“I can’t even begin to imagine how upset you must be about this, but all I can say is not to worry about it, my dear.”
Adeo removed his glasses and opened his arms toward his daughter. Caella calmly stepped into her father’s embrace.
“I’m fine, really.”
“No, no. To be openly ignored in a greeting—that’s utterly unacceptable. It’s an insult you can never forget.”
Yet both father and daughter knew it was wiser, for the sake of their status, honor, and dignity, not to stoop to such pettiness.
The next time she met Duchess Monde, Caella would greet her with the same polite smile. That was the way of the dignified House de Chasser.
What else could be done? For Caella, far more weighty and important than Duchess Monde’s snub was the fact that the Emperor himself had intervened. There was no escape from this marriage. Grand Duke Lusenford likely felt the same.
“She’s simply not worth your concern.”
Those unexpectedly harsh words came from Adeo, a man often described as gentle-natured. That was precisely how he’d survived the cutthroat world of high society.
“Judging by how she treated someone practically her daughter, she’s clearly beyond the bounds of common sense. So don’t pay her any mind. His Imperial Majesty has already taken good care of everything for you.”
It wasn’t so much gratitude toward the Emperor as relief that things had turned out this way—for Caella’s sake.
“Yes. It’s fortunate we didn’t cross paths.”
“To be honest, it’d be a lie to say I’m not bothered. After all, it’s a family with deep, longstanding ties to the man who’ll become your husband.”
Adeo actually felt relieved that the notoriously talkative Duke Monde and House Lavalle weren’t drawing attention. If Beatrice, who’d wormed her way into the Imperial Family through Pheon, stole the spotlight even at Caella’s wedding, Caella would truly be heartbroken.
“Since it’s come to this, let’s focus solely on the wedding preparations. It’s your one and only wedding, after all. I’ll do my very best.”
But Caella had no interest in wedding preparations. Whether others called it a once-in-a-lifetime event or not, she placed no importance on it. So she kept nodding vaguely with easy replies like “Fine,” or “Whatever you think is best.”
If decorating the path to death beautifully could lessen or erase the pain at the moment of dying, she’d give it her all—but since it wouldn’t, she simply didn’t care.
“Please don’t overexert yourself, Father.”
“You’re too modest for your own good. How can you have no desires at all?”
Well, she’d already experienced throwing together a wedding using only the meager allowance the Emperor had grudgingly doled out, doing her best to maintain appearances. Things were different now, yet she knew well enough that no matter how lavishly they prepared, the House of Lusenford would never welcome her.
“What would you like as a wedding gift? If there’s anything you want, just say it. Anything at all.”
Caella smiled. Gifts that served no purpose were unnecessary. As she placed flowers into an empty vase in the study, she murmured,
“As long as you stay healthy, Father.”
At that answer, Adeo’s face fell as though the world had collapsed around him.
“Good heavens! My daughter’s sense of humor is this dull? Caella! That’s the kind of line you’d find in *Hekerkos’s Morality for Children*! Speaking of which, where’s that book? I ought to burn it—it’s the most useless book in the world.”
The brutal cold of Lusenford had apparently extinguished even her sense of humor, so Caella gave an awkward smile.
“Indulge yourself a little, Caella. It’s only once! I want to give you everything I possibly can. In fact, I’d even like to grant you a fine estate of your own. What good is my health to me? Your happiness is what truly matters.”
Adeo pulled his daughter close once more, patting her back gently.
“Though Lusenford is harsh and bitterly cold, I believe you’ll adapt. The Grand Duke will support you firmly. If it gets too cold, come stay temporarily at the estate I’ll give you. Yes, that sounds perfect.”
“I’m fine, really.”
But no matter how much Caella protested, Adeo wouldn’t be still. Fathers will be fathers—but what truly startled, even frightened Caella, was Grand Duke Lusenford’s overwhelming eagerness.
With the wedding date set abruptly from the start, time grew tight. Dressmakers, lawyers to draft the marriage contract, and Imperial Palace administrators to discuss the scale of the ceremony shuttled repeatedly between House Lusenford, House Ostein, and the Imperial Palace—sometimes multiple times a day.
“It’s because you show absolutely no interest.”
“I am reviewing every document, Father.”
“But still—how can you give no opinion on your dress at all? The Duke even sent heaps of fabric, insisting there must be more than enough for your veil.”
Indeed. Why would he do that? Pheon was pouring staggering amounts of money into this wedding—so much so that Caella wondered if House Lusenford’s finances were truly that healthy. It was unlike him, someone who always prioritized military funds above all.
‘Perhaps… this is a side of him I never knew.’
Throughout her married life, Caella would likely endure suspicion that, as Grand Duchess, she might secretly be the Emperor’s spy. Managing household affairs would be exceedingly difficult.
Yet Pheon was deeply beloved by those close to him. He was kind—not just to people, but even to warhorses, the dogs kept within the estate, and stray cats wandering the streets. Caella, who’d been treated worse than a stray cat, couldn’t understand it at all.
‘Is it because Father is still alive?’
Was it her title as Princess Ostein that protected her, prompting Pheon to show her basic respect? Even so, she remained the Emperor’s niece—so why this change? She couldn’t comprehend it. And that lack of understanding made her increasingly uneasy.
“Of course, the groom shouldn’t meddle in the bride’s wedding attire, but nothing should be lacking. Yet you refuse even a single jewel?”
“Yes. Clean, simple silk needs no decoration, Father.”
Caella replied absently, her thoughts still swirling. Was all this a trap? Pheon’s every move was flawlessly proper.
He was acting strictly by the book. Where had that Grand Duke Lusenford gone—the one everyone found exasperating for his inability to bend even slightly? It was as if he were a completely different person….
“Caella?”
Crash! The vase slipped from her hands and shattered on the floor. Shards of porcelain scraped across the floorboards, scattering in all directions.
“Oh dear! Are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?”
Adeo, startled, quickly pulled Caella away from the broken pieces.
“I’m fine.”
Caella stared at the shattered vase, murmuring in a daze. She heard her father calling for a maid in the distance. A brief, chilling fear gripped her, but she repeated to herself, “It’s fine,” over and over.
It’s fine. She always had a final resort, didn’t she? No matter how hard she tried to understand or survive, nothing ever changed. It’s fine.
“I’m fine.”
Caella clasped her trembling hands together. Fear, after all, only exists because one wishes to live.
She knew this—but today, once again, she gave up. If she wanted to die as peacefully as possible, she had to go through with this marriage. Only then could she die somewhere beyond the Emperor’s gaze—painlessly, at least.
*
“Take good care of our Pheon, Caella. You know better than anyone how deeply wounded he is.”
But even dying quickly and peacefully wasn’t easy. First, she had to endure all sorts of meddlesome people forcing their way into her life before the wedding.
Take, for example, Beatrice Lavalle—who’d “accidentally” run into her in public, sweetly smiling as she declared, “I know your future husband far better than you do.”
Caella regarded Beatrice with indifference—the beauty so often likened to a full moon, summer roses, or a fresh garden.
Some people seemed like entirely different persons after death and rebirth; others remained exactly the same.
“I thought it was Duchess Monde speaking. Perhaps you resemble her so much, Sister.”
Who ever said Caella couldn’t change? She looked at Beatrice with a serene smile, mentioning the one who’d gravely wronged her, and gazed upon her husband’s affection calmly.
So what if she openly disliked someone she could never defeat in life? Being kind to Beatrice Lavalle wouldn’t make Grand Duke Lusenford look back at Caella or grant her respect.
Anyway, what did it matter if ugly, foolish Caella did another foolish, spiteful thing?
