Chapter 15

“Have you heard the rumor?”

“What rumor?”

A young lady, listening intently to the sounds from inside the café from a separate room, spoke up in a hushed voice. The other young ladies seated with her naturally leaned in, lowering their upper bodies to hear better.

“They say Viscount Norman Cailon has been busily going back and forth between the Kinson Count’s estate and the Duke of Vinzetten’s residence.”

“The Kinson Count’s estate? Isn’t that where Lady Rosalie Cailon is staying?”

“Exactly. And originally, it would be Viscount Norman Cailon’s duty to look after Lady Rosalie Cailon.”

“If Viscount Norman Cailon is traveling between those two places…”

“Could it be that he’s aiming to secure the position of Duchess of Vinzetten?”

As the soft whispers teasingly flowed into their ears, the ladies all instinctively covered their mouths. Though they quickly fell silent in fear of being overheard, their eyes sparkled with curiosity.

Their gazes then shifted to one empty seat. It was the seat belonging to Celetina—the one virtually confirmed to be the next Duchess.

No one was more suited to be the flower of high society than Celetina Bellure. There was no one more beautiful or graceful than her. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say every lady in society acknowledged that fact.

So naturally, she was the only one fit to become the esteemed Duchess of the Empire.

“That’s absurd.”

One lady, a devoted admirer of Celetina, spoke in an impassioned tone as if it concerned her personally.

“The position of Duchess obviously belongs to Lady Bellure. Don’t you agree?”

“Of course.”

“I heard at the last garden party that the Marquis and Marchioness of Bellure had a private discussion with the Duke of Vinzetten. It must have been about an engagement.”

“Then perhaps Lady Cailon heard about it and decided to strike first? So she could claim the position of Duchess herself?”

The young ladies’ faces flushed with rising agitation. To them, loyal followers of Celetina, Rosalie was an eyesore. As emotions ran high, they began speaking ill of Rosalie without even realizing how loud they were getting.

“Do you think Lady Bellure knows about this?”

“Who knows?”

“I hope she doesn’t. Imagine how distressed she’d be.”

“If that’s the case, let’s keep this to ourselves. We absolutely must make sure Lady Bellure never finds out.”

Just as the young ladies reaffirmed their resolve to protect Celetina, the door to the room opened. The young lady facing the door let out a hasty cough, attempting to cover the awkward moment, but their unintentionally raised voices had already made everything perfectly audible. The young ladies’ mouths fell open in panic.

Dark clouds quickly passed over Celetina’s face—she had clearly heard her name.

“Oh dear… I should’ve come a little later. Or maybe not at all?”

The look of hurt on Celetina’s face made the others feel as though their hearts were tearing apart. Just hearing her last words was enough to cause a terrible misunderstanding.

“Lady Bellure, it’s not what you think. Please, don’t misunderstand. Just hear us out.”

One of the ladies stood up and guided Celetina to an empty seat. Knowing that clearing up the misunderstanding required telling the truth, the ladies began to slowly explain what they had tried to keep hidden.

“That’s why we wanted to hide the news from you, Lady Bellure—so you wouldn’t have to know.”

As they spoke, the young ladies cautiously watched for Celetina’s reaction. She listened calmly, then took a handkerchief from her bag and gently dabbed the corners of her eyes with elegant gestures.

“I understand your sincerity now. You were all thinking of me. Thank you so much for caring this deeply.”

Relieved that the misunderstanding had been resolved, the young ladies let out a collective sigh.

Only then did they truly see the sorrow cast over Celetina’s face. Even after hearing that some viscount’s daughter dared to aim for the position of Duchess, she had not voiced a single complaint.

Seeing Celetina’s delicate demeanor stirred a sense of determination in the others—they couldn’t just stand by and let someone hurt her.

“Don’t worry, Lady Bellure. We’ll help you. Right, everyone? Each of us owes you a favor.”

“Help me?”

“Well, of course you’ll be the Duchess, but still—it’s best to nip troublesome weeds in the bud. For example, we could help Lady Cailon find someone else more… suitable.”

“But even if we find her a match, would Lady Cailon give up so easily?”

“If she finds herself in a situation where she has no choice, then she’ll have to accept it, won’t she?”

The ladies quickly caught on to what “a situation with no choice” really meant.

Before marriage, it was a noblewoman’s duty to maintain spotless behavior. Those who failed and found themselves in scandal often had no choice but to marry to assert their innocence.

If Rosalie ended up in such a situation, she’d surely be forced to give up the position of Duchess.

“How about Baron Gellen? I think they’d make quite the pair.”

“Baron Gellen?”

Baron Gellen was a notorious rake in high society, and noble ladies loathed being associated with him.

The ladies exchanged meaningful glances in silence.

The lady who had laid out the entire plan grasped Celetina’s hand and said,

“Miss Bellure, you don’t have to worry about anything. We’ll take care of everything.”

Celetina, who had remained silent throughout their scheming, responded only with a smile in the end.

***

“It’s just too much! How could they say such vile things just because you weren’t there?”

Once they left the café street and boarded the carriage, Marie finally exploded with pent-up anger.

While browsing the shops, Marie had fixated on the desserts displayed in the café window. Rosalie, noticing this, immediately took her hand and led her into the shop.

It was a high-end café frequented by noble ladies, so Marie, dressed as a servant, inevitably drew disapproving stares. She tried to stop her mistress, worried that she might cause trouble for her, but Rosalie insisted and ordered the menu Marie had been eyeing. The staff, sensing the situation, discreetly guided them to a private room.

Rosalie’s name had been mentioned when Marie was almost done with her cake.

The ladies in the next room, unaware that the subject of their gossip was nearby, chattered excitedly, spreading unverified rumors.

Marie, unable to even finish the last bite, clenched her fork so tightly it nearly snapped, suppressing her rising fury.

She wanted to barge in and shout that Rosalie and the duke were in a political marriage, and that it was they who were trying to steal the duchess’s position.

But unable to act on that impulse, she could only voice her outrage after climbing into the carriage where no one else could hear.

“Miss, aren’t you angry?”

Though they had been there together, Rosalie remained calm, as if she had heard nothing at all.

Rosalie gently patted the head of Marie, who was fuming on her behalf.

“Of course I’m not pleased. But not everyone is going to like me. From Miss Bellure’s perspective, they weren’t entirely wrong.”

She couldn’t silence every person spreading rumors about her. So she simply tried not to let any of it bother her.

Of course, hearing it directly was another matter, and it did sting, but thanks to the ladies’ chatter, she’d gained two very useful pieces of information.

The way scandals were resolved through marriage, and the man they were planning to match her with: Baron Gellen.

There was still no answer from the Duke of Vinzetten regarding the arranged marriage.

If Kenneth said he didn’t want it, then trying the method they had suggested might not be such a bad idea.

She had already resolved to marry him no matter what it took, so a scandal like that—she could welcome it with open arms.

She had no intention of letting things go the way they wanted.