Chapter 32

After reporting that Earl Roimond had been secretly liquidating assets for the past five years, and that the Earl D’Malion family seemed to be deliberately slowing the development of the diamond mine, a piece of information he had completely forgotten suddenly burst out of his mouth.

“Oh? But I believe Charlotte Roimond has a secret fiancé?”

Christian’s brows twitched fiercely.

“A fiancé? Since when?”

“I heard the engagement was arranged not long after Earl Roimond took in his sister’s daughter as an adopted daughter. If my memory is correct, it was that summer. The information came from someone who used to work for the Roimonds, so it should be reliable.”

“……Summer?”

“Yes. The investigation into the mine development on the Roimond estate also began in spring, and the work started in summer. It should be around then.”

“Ha.”

Christian sneered.

While he had been searching everywhere for her, to think she had become engaged to another man.

A vicious silence filled the room. Watching his master’s mood, Marcus lightly bit his lower lip.

At a glance, Christian’s breathing seemed no more disturbed than usual, but Marcus could not relax because of the ominous air emanating from him.

Soon, Christian’s lips, which had been pressed into a hard straight line, parted.

“Investigate every single thing regarding the Roimond family and Charlotte Roimond, and report back.”

The darkly sunken voice scraped against Marcus’s nape. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and goosebumps prickled all over his body.

Too afraid to meet his master’s eyes, he bowed his head deeply and answered,

“Yes, Your Highness the Grand Duke.”

***

The schedule of the summer social season was, put kindly, free, and put less kindly, indulgent.

In the evenings, there were banquets three times a week, alternating between Swanell Palace and Estelle Palace, and the rest was free schedule. Officially, that was how it was.

But most participants constantly strove to be invited to small gatherings outside the official banquets, such as tea parties, hunting events, luncheon meals, gambling, and games.

A packed schedule was proof of one’s prestige, so it was only natural.

Among them, gatherings hosted by the queen of high society, Diane Berti, were what everyone yearned for.

There were three rules for those invited to Diane’s gatherings.

Dress lightly, throw away all pretense, and be bold.

Even so, daytime events such as tea parties generally stayed within bounds, but the banquets after sunset were something else entirely.

They would drink in the reception room of Swanell Palace, and once the atmosphere had ripened, they would enjoy secret games under Diane’s lead.

Passing ice from mouth to mouth until it turned into lingering kisses, or sticking slips of paper to parts of the body and peeling them off while teasing one another, were hardly even the most excessive things they did.

The imagination born from humanity’s innate lewdness had no end to it.

The man and woman who put on the boldest performance of the year would often disappear from society without a trace the following year, yet Diane, who had encouraged everything from behind the scenes, still reigned as queen.

“Mmnn……”

Diane opened her eyes in Wilsingham Bruce’s arms and let out a coy m*an.

Wilsingham lightly wrapped an arm around Diane’s slender waist.

“Diane, good morning.”

Her red lips, red even without makeup, curved into a soft smile. But for Diane, it was not such a good morning.

Last night, in a fit of temper, she had slept with Wilsingham, but aside from his glossy face, he was a man who satisfied her in no particular way.

She lightly tickled his leg with her toes as if toying with him, then subtly pushed him toward the edge of the bed.

“Go quickly, before someone else sees.”

Kissing her knee, Wilsingham replied,

“Did you not say with your own mouth that putting on airs during the summer social season is a sin?”

“Today is the first day. And I need to prepare for the tea party.”

Pretending he had no choice, Wilsingham got up and leisurely picked up his clothes to dress himself. Diane glared at his unimpressive back with displeasure.

Diane Berti.

The youngest daughter of the long-established central noble house of Marquis Berti, everything had been in her grasp from the moment she was born.

Parents who would grant anything their daughter said, an affectionate elder brother, a beautiful appearance that drew admiration from anyone, and even innate wealth and power.

She had gained everything easily, and had never lost even one thing. Fate had always been on her side.

Perhaps that was why. These days, she had grown especially bored of the things she could obtain too easily.

The admiration of women, the adoration of men, the latest dresses prepared solely for her, and marriage proposals that kept coming in despite everyone knowing about her promiscuous private life.

All of it was dull and natural. They were things she could have merely by reaching out her hand.

Except for one thing alone.

Christian Eponhart.

He alone was something not obvious in the Western Empire. What he had given her was nothing but humiliation, yet that was precisely what made him all the more special.

‘Do you want to stop being the flower of society and become the flower of the gutter instead?’

Recalling the cutting words she had heard from Christian a few days earlier, her body trembled in fine shivers. At the time, it had been frightening and humiliating, but once it had passed, even that side of him had become precious.

Because she believed she alone knew his true personality in high society.

Yet Diane did not consider her obsessive longing for Christian to be love. Such tingling feelings were things only naive and foolish women harbored.

So she did not wish for something like falling in love with the Grand Duke. From the beginning, she had thought the Grand Duke was not the sort of person capable of feeling love either.

Even so, she could not tolerate another woman taking the Grand Duke from her.

Charlotte Roimond.

The woman who trampled on Grand Duke Eponhart’s reason and drew passionate emotions from that cold face.

What in the world was that woman?

The Crown Prince had personally stepped forward to explain that nothing had happened between her and the Grand Duke, but Diane did not believe it.

Of course, since she did not like the idea of the Grand Duke and Lady Roimond becoming entangled, she actively pretended to accept the Crown Prince’s words.

Charlotte’s golden hair, like fine silk threads, swayed before her eyes. As the face she could not stand to look at rose in her mind, she squeezed her eyes shut.

Just thinking about facing her at the tea party a few hours later made her stomach churn.

“Diane, I look forward to the tea party.”

“Yes.”

Without even seeing Wilsingham off as he left the room, she buried her face in the blanket.

***

Early in the morning. Charlotte opened her eyes after sleeping for less than three hours.

It was not because she had slept poorly in an unfamiliar bed. Not once in the past five years had she spent even a single day sleeping with peace of mind.

The brilliant morning sunlight made its presence known through the bright curtains.

The sunlight in the south was hotter and more humid than in Roimond. Charlotte, who had spent her childhood in the south, was inwardly glad of the familiar sun.

She remembered the Crown Prince saying that if she drew the curtains, she would see summer roses, but she deliberately did not open them.

If she saw the pale, bright summer roses, she would surely feel better. That was exactly why she did not want to see them.

Emotions were like waves: if they rose, they were bound to fall. It was far too exhausting to endure the long depression that came after a brief joy.

So because she did not want to cry, she did not smile. She tried to feel nothing, and to grow numb to everything.

Then at least she would not have to suffer, trapped in the pain and helplessness of feeling as though her whole life had fallen into hell.

Looking around the guest room of the palace with half-open eyes, she suddenly realized one thing.

“There is no one here.”

Earl Roimond was not here, Madame Margaret was not here, no one at all was here. Charlotte was capable of dressing herself, so there had been no need to bring servants from Roimond. Though in truth, it was closer to saying they could not be brought.

For the past year, even exchanging morning greetings with the people of Roimond had been agonizing. Simply being able to spend the morning entirely alone let Charlotte breathe more easily.

But a little later, a knock broke the peaceful time.

Knock, knock, knock-.

“Who…… is it?”

“My lady, breakfast has been prepared.”

“Please come in.”

She had not heard that breakfast would be brought to her room. Though puzzled, she did not refuse the visit from an Imperial servant.

A breakfast of bread, fresh butter and fruit, omelet, and coffee was laid out on the table. Looking blankly at the appetizing food, Charlotte asked the servant,

“Do they usually prepare things like this as well?”

“Breakfast is normally served in the dining hall on the first floor, but if you wish, a simple meal can be brought to you. This morning’s breakfast was sent on the orders of His Highness the Crown Prince.”

“……I see. Thank you.”

The servant dipped her head, then briefly glanced sideways at Charlotte’s face.

So this was the woman who had turned the summer social season upside down yesterday. Her beauty was certainly enough to make one understand.

Noticing the servant’s gaze, Charlotte abruptly turned her head away. It was somewhat less unpleasant because it was a woman, but by now she was thoroughly sick of every situation in which eyes were fixed on her.