The name Chesterfield reminded her of a swan. Unlike its elegant appearance, the swan busy swimming underneath is often used as a metaphor for the product of effort, but from the webbed feet of this Chesterfield swan came the smell of blood. 

 “Miss Berienne,” 

 “Yes.” 

 Celian hurriedly stuffed the letter into her bag. Though clearly knowing the door wasn’t locked, Izer patiently waited for it to open. 

 The courtesy he had begun to maintain at some point was too painful for her. If only you would be rude to me, if you would trample and mock me, then I would find justification to bring you down. 

 Izer Chesterfield, do you know? 

 The most painful times I had in this house were the days when you were kind to me. 

***

He was more careful than ever before. With a cautious attitude that was neither excessive nor aggressive, as if attending to someone precious, it was rather she who had been demanding. 

 She didn’t want to fill this last night with Izer with such good memories. To secure the justification for her evil deed and to console herself, Izer Chesterfield needed to remain a villain to Celian until the end. 

So she demanded. But he restrained himself. When he asked her softly why she was in such a hurry, she almost burst into tears.

 But she acted shamelessly. When she gave a command that wasn’t really a command for the young duke to do as he pleased, he seemed to turn aggressive for a moment, but he soon regained his composure and drove her to the brink of death. 

 With her body now soft and fluffy, burying her face in his embrace, Celian asked in a small voice. 

 ‘Why are you being so gentle?’ 

 ‘We should have days like this too.’ 

 When she woke up, Izer had already left. She later heard that the young people had departed at dawn. 

 Thus, Celian missed the chance to bid him a final farewell. 

 To Izer Chesterfield. 

 The letter still couldn’t move beyond that first line. There was much to write but nothing she could write. What words could she put down? That I conspired with your adoptive father to deceive you? That I was a high-class pr*stitute who sold herself for a thousand pounds? 

 The letter remained in that state for three days straight. 

 ***

 To Izer Chesterfield. 

 She planned to escape somehow tonight. Her letter to Owen was already completed long ago. Now she just needed to play along with the Duke’s tune one last time. 

 Her final lunch in this house was bread with butter. Thankfully, it was so ordinary she wouldn’t remember it. 

 The moment Celian took the dishes to the kitchen, the sound of galloping hooves and rattling wheels penetrated the walls. 

 Puzzled servants moved in unison toward the main gate. Celian, who was on the first floor, joined their ranks holding Percy’s hand. 

 Under the scorching midsummer sun appeared the source of the commotion. 

 Celian pressed her lips tight and widened her eyes. Servants who felt similar to her exchanged glances. 

 The magnificent four-horse carriage was indeed that of House Chesterfield. 

 The Duke, who had left planning to be away for a week, returned before even half that time had passed. The air stirred at this fact. The Duke of Chesterfield, or the Young Duke. Something must have happened to one of them. 

 When she came to her senses, she was already at the front gate. Among the maids rushing toward the carriage, Celian, her legs weak, leaned against a nearby tree. 

 The man jumping down from the white horse was someone she knew well. 

 Izer’s expression was rigid. He seemed too preoccupied to even acknowledge Percy, let alone her. Celian heard his instructions to the head butler. 

 “Father has fallen from his horse. The horse went wild and even kicked his head. We only gave emergency treatment at the hunting ground. He’s unconscious, call Doctor Owen immediately.” 

 “……!” 

 The servants collectively held their breath. As if to prove the young duke’s words, the carriage door opened and Duke Chesterfield was carried out on a stretcher. 

 The man lying on expensive silk not meant for stretchers, dressed in casual clothes, showed no movement. His knee-high hunting boots were covered in mud, and his arms and shoulders were torn. Above all, the bloodied bandage wrapped around his head drew people’s attention. 

 Celian covered her mouth with trembling hands. 

 From the Duke’s carriage and from several horses, men in elegant riding clothes jumped down. 

 A middle-aged man, following the stretcher, explained the situation to the maids. He was one of the Duke’s friends who occasionally visited the mansion and cast lewd glances at Celian. 

 “The Duke was enjoying a solitary ride heading into the forest. The young duke was chasing a fox somewhat behind us. Then suddenly we heard a scream and the young duke rushed over……” 

 They said when they arrived, the horse was already dead. The young duke had shot the horse so many times that both the horse and the young duke were covered in blood. 

 “The young duke rushed over when he saw him fall, but when the horse kicked the Duke, he seemed to have tried to kill the horse. It took quite a while to calm him down.” 

 Izer is a marksman recognized by Jade. Would he really have fired countless shots just to kill one horse? 

 He had a reason why he needed to make the Duke’s horse a complete wreck. To make other investigations, including an autopsy, impossible. 

 Through the open doorway, Izer’s desperate face was visible. 

 But Celian wasn’t fooled by him. This accident was planned. What Izer had meant by ‘not much time left’ was Harris Chesterfield’s death. 

 The hunting party might have, perhaps, somewhat suspected Izer. 

 However, things had already happened. They chose to side with the grown young duke rather than Harris Chesterfield who could die any day. With the man who would formally inherit the title of duke soon. 

 Percy buried his face in Celian’s skirt. 

 “Teacher, teacher……” 

 The child whimpered. Percy was terrified of this situation. How long had it been since he lost his mother, and now his father was unconscious. Afraid that his brother or teacher might be next, the child was too scared. 

 Celian comforted Percy while looking up at the tall windows where sunlight poured in. 

 ***

 The news that the Duke of Chesterfield had fallen into a coma swept through all of Humingham, from the royal family to commoners. 

 Very few worried about Harris Chesterfield’s condition as an individual. Most were curious about who would receive the right to own and decide over his numerous lands, businesses, and assets. 

 The Treven royal family quickly resolved the public’s curiosity. News hit the papers that the Young Duke of Chesterfield had formally inherited the title with King James III’s decree. 

 It happened in just three days. 

 People’s interest in the Chesterfield mansion naturally increased. Their interest in the people working there also rose. 

 Mixed in were stories about Celian. 

 “‘Rumors circulate that Marcotti Berienne’s eldest daughter is at the Chesterfield mansion. Despite rumors of a hidden woman, the Duke of Chesterfield hasn’t made any statement. But there’s talk that the engagement between Chesterfield and Montes might break off.’ What do you think, Celian?” 

 “……I’m sorry.” 

 Her shins touching the floor had gone numb. Would her nerves die from lack of blood supply and leave her legs crippled at this rate? 

 During the hours she had been kneeling, Ophelia had remained before her the entire time. Sitting on a plush sofa, elegantly drinking tea and crunching cookies. As Ophelia carelessly brushed crumbs onto the carpet beside her, a man’s voice flew in. 

 “Still at this? I told you to just send her to me…… I could have made her surrender in an hour.” 

 Celian raised her head that had been about to drop. Better to kneel before Ophelia than be violated by Cain. 

 “This isn’t for you to interfere with. I’m the victim who has the right to punish her, but you just want to ‘do it’ with her?” 

 “‘Multiple’ times.” 

 “Right, a hundred times.” 

 Ophelia, responding indifferently, sent Cain away. Then she started crunching cookies again. The golden deer antler decoration reflected the late afternoon sunlight, emitting light. 

 “Why are you still in Humingham?” 

 “……” 

 “Was there no reason to keep promises like final farewells with a dying person?” 

 “……” 

 “Izer won’t cast you out first. Which means what these newspapers are gossiping about will happen soon. If you stay, that is.” 

 The woman most sensitive about the broken engagement between Chesterfield and Montes dropped the newspaper to the floor. As if it were something dirty. 

 “I admit my father isn’t exactly a clean person. But he’s better than you. Do you know what people will say?” 

 “……”

“The world will point fingers at him. They’ll whisper about how a daughter of Berienne has no right to the position of Duchess. Sin is inherited, and people still remember your father.”