Chapter 2. The Controversial Lady

“Rest well, Duke Ashworth, Duchess.”

A young man in a navy crew uniform gave a polite bow and withdrew.

Liz smiled awkwardly at the title.

Duchess. Of all things.

From the wedding to the honeymoon, everything had happened at a breathless pace. She still couldn’t quite believe that this surreal situation had been sealed with one document and one kiss.

‘I only ask that you uphold your duties as Duchess Ashworth.’

That had been the one condition the duke set after their agreement. Attending official engagements as his wife, fulfilling the role expected of her. On the surface it sounded manageable, but it was hardly something she could do with an easy mind.

The maids had finally helped her out of the wedding dress and into a lighter gown. Liz let out a long breath. The relief of the constricting corset coming loose was immediate, but the duke’s words still throbbed at the back of her mind.

Just then, one of the maids folding away the wedding dress straightened up with a slightly nervous expression and dipped her head.

“How do you do, my lady. I will be your dedicated attendant going forward. My name is Ma… Maribel.”

“Ah…… I’m Liz Clairemont. Pleased to meet you.”

Liz had glanced around for a moment, not sure the greeting was meant for her, before returning a belated, awkward smile. She studied the maid, who looked to be around her own age. Dark brown hair, a scatter of freckles beneath her eyes, and an overall impression of warmth and good nature.

Six years at the Girls’ Academy had made her comfortable around people her own age, but having a personal maid was entirely new, and a slight awkwardness crept in.

She was still searching for the right words when Maribel’s eyes lit up with something like wonder.

“You suit this dress beautifully too, but what a shame. You were absolutely stunning in the wedding gown, my lady.”

“…Is that so?”

Liz swallowed the disagreement that rose to her lips and deflected. The weight of every curious, unsettling stare she had endured while boarding in that dress had nearly done her in from embarrassment.

It was deliberate.

Liz sighed inwardly at the duke’s petty little scheme, making sure she couldn’t slip away by keeping her in the image of a bride fresh from the altar.

A late wave of regret rose up, wondering if she should have ever agreed to his terms, but she’d had no real choice from the start.

‘Get him to be the one who asks for a divorce first, if at all possible. If that doesn’t work, look into whether an annulment is an option once we’re back.’

Her parents fainting at the news that their daughter had become a divorcee the moment she married was a worry, but in a way, this could also be a relief.

There wasn’t a single family in Bellum that wanted to marry her anyway.

Nobles who bore grudges over the marriages she had ruined had been sending complaints, and her parents had been wearing themselves out trying to find her a match despite it all. This was a chance to finally lift that weight from their shoulders for good.

Life had been noisy enough for long enough. She had been planning to go down to the countryside where her grandfather lived and settle into something quiet. Things had taken an unexpected turn, but she decided to think of it as a one-month reprieve.

She was still steadying herself when the ship let out a low, deep horn and began to move away from the shore.

“Oh……”

Liz stared out the window in a daze. Maribel looked at her with a puzzled expression.

“Is something wrong?”

“Ah…… no, nothing.”

Remarkably, the cabin itself felt almost completely still.

Maribel smiled, looking relieved, and asked, “The wedding must have been exhausting. Shall I bring you some tea?”

“I’m fine.”

Come to think of it, the staff of the Ashworth household had been impeccably courteous from the moment she boarded. Not one of them had given any sign of finding it strange that she, and not Amelia, had married Johann.

She told herself that was simply how the upper class operated and pushed the thought aside. Her own situation was a far more pressing concern.

She had given up on marriage a long time ago, and everything about this, the wedding, the honeymoon, all of it was entirely foreign to her.

Liz stepped around the porters carrying in trunks and took in the cabin she had been shown to.

A special VIP suite, they had called it, and it looked as though an entire aristocratic villa had been lifted and set down inside the ship.

The grand sitting room stretched out on both sides, its walls glowing softly with gold silk paper, and a painting by Bellum’s finest living artist hung on one wall. Beside it stood an elaborate cabinet of fine spirits.

The adjoining bedroom was equally impressive, but the exterior of the cabin beyond the door leading to the private balcony, visible through the ocean-facing window, was something out of a painting.

Exotic flowers and shrubs lined the perimeter of the private deck, the kind that must have cost millions in gold. At the far end of the garden walk sat an outdoor pool finished in marble tile.

For someone who had never set foot on a ship before, everything astonished her. It felt like witnessing firsthand the standard of living that came with the kind of wealth that could casually name thirty trillion Berics.

Liz was making her way through the connected rooms when she paused at the entrance to the study. Johann had just finished speaking with several men and was stepping into the sitting room.

He had taken off his tailcoat and stood in a simple white silk shirt, raising an eyebrow with calm indifference.

“It’ll be about a month, so I’d ask you to bear with the space even if it feels cramped. If it becomes truly unbearable, you’re welcome to find other arrangements at one of the stops along the way.”

“W, wait. A month? We can’t return to Bergen for an entire month?”

Liz turned to him in surprise as he handed his outer coat to a servant. He looked back at her as though she had asked something odd and loosened his tie.

“Did you forget I said we were going to the southern continent? We’ll dock for a day or so at the countries along the way, but after visiting the final destination, returning to the capital will take around two months altogether.”

Good heavens.

An impromptu honeymoon was already absurd enough, but being away from home for that long had never crossed her mind. Liz’s composure wobbled.

That meant spending the entire duration confined to this cabin with this man.

His cool, seemingly indifferent gaze settled on Liz’s face, her wheat-colored hair falling loose around her. It moved slowly over her beige dress before lifting again.

“A shame. You looked quite good in the dress earlier.”

“I know you’re mocking me. Hundreds of people at that harbor watched me make a fool of myself climbing the gangway in a wedding gown.”

She added, thanks to you, and Johann tilted his head slightly.

“They’ll be saying that Duchess Ashworth was so overcome with happiness she refused to take off her wedding dress even aboard the ship.”

So it had been deliberate after all. Liz’s cheeks puffed out in silent indignation.

Of course.

Johann von Ashworth, the duke famous for his meticulous, calculating nature, had been taking out his petty frustrations on her for letting his bride escape.

None of this was remotely normal to begin with.

“To put it gently, you looked so well in it that to my eyes, you resembled a goddess descended to bless this voyage.”

The subtle warmth in his steady gaze made her throat move involuntarily.

What on earth is this man saying.

It was almost certainly said in jest, but something faintly sensuous clung to the smooth curve of his lips.

Her face was growing warm for no reason she could name when Johann smiled, the corner of his mouth lifting elegantly, and took one step toward her.

“All who board this ship shall find eternal love in the embrace of the sea. The toast Her Majesty the Queen gave at the Eternelle’s launch ceremony fifteen years ago, when she christened the ship. You like that one.”

Liz’s eyes flickered.

“……How did you know that?”

“It’s common knowledge that Her Majesty’s words became the wish of every woman in Bergen.”

“Ah, right.”

She was startled.

The memory surfaced without warning. Fifteen years ago, hand in hand with her father at the launch ceremony.

The majesty of the great ship, the gleaming golden figurehead, the parade of naval officers in their dress uniforms, the sweeping sound of the military band. The queen, serving as the Eternelle’s godmother, had spoken those words. The calm recitation, the champagne bursting against the bow and scattering like a fountain, it had been a breathtaking sight.

After that day, a romantic legend had spread through society: couples or newlyweds who shared their first voyage on the Eternelle would never be parted and would live out a happy future together forever.

She herself had once gone on at length about how her dream was to board the Eternelle one day with someone she loved, captivated by the beauty of that ceremony.

A memory she had long since forgotten came drifting back. Liz let her gaze drift to the newspaper nearby. She spotted the enormous photograph on the front page and snatched it up.

It was a photograph taken at the ceremony just a few hours ago, with Johann beside her.