After the party, I fell ill. The Keppel household employees were the ones who did all the work, yet I ended up with a fever. I lay in bed for three days before my fever finally subsided, and I regained my strength.

“They say you were too mentally exhausted. Ms. Loren prepared some herbal medicine for you.”

Who’s Loren? Seeing the large bowl of dark liquid Jane brought over reminded me that the apothecary’s name was Glinda Loren.

“Ugh, it’s bitter.”

If she were the Keppel family physician, she would have tried to make it taste a bit better, but the old apothecary showed no mercy in that regard. With this thought in mind, I asked Jane,

“Did the family doctor approve this medicine?”

“Yes, of course. He reviewed the prescription. It turns out that Ms. Loren’s late husband was his distant senior.”

I see. Well, that worked out well. As soon as I felt better, I headed to the study to check on my new tasks, when something unusual caught my eye.

“What is this? They’re building a hospital?”

A proposal to build a charitable hospital under the Keppel name awaited my approval. As I glanced at the astronomical budget, I rubbed my eyes.

“Why a hospital all of a sudden?”

“Oh, that was the master’s suggestion. Since Ms. Loren doesn’t have a medical license, we can’t appoint her as a family physician, nor could we continue to allow her to run an unlicensed apothecary. So, he thought it would be better to appoint her as the hospital director. It doesn’t require a license, yet she can still participate in its operation. I think it’s a good idea too.”

Indeed. It’s a great way to respect the old woman’s abilities, give her some dignity, and also keep her close. But it’s not a method anyone could easily pull off—it requires an enormous amount of money. I clutched my chest in shock at the sudden expense.

“My Lady? Are you all right?”

“Yes… I was just startled by the amount. How generous he is.”

Not only a hospital, but he’s also planning to set up a medicinal herb research lab on the estate, and judging by the sizable land parcel he intends to acquire near the main residence in a secluded area, it seems he’s planning to grow Roscari herbs. The scale was so grand that my own initial thought of setting up a small greenhouse in Hershey estate seemed laughable in comparison.

“…Did Ian write this proposal himself?”

“The master mentioned he would personally explain any confidential information that couldn’t be documented. If only you hadn’t insisted on working, I would have contacted him in advance.”

“No need to bother him; he must be busy. I can ask him over dinner.”

After saying that, I paused at my desk. I had casually mentioned having dinner with Ian as if it were a given. It seemed I’d grown accustomed to life with him. More surprising than the budget written in the proposal was this realization, and I blinked for a moment.

“My Lady Are you overexerting yourself?”

“…No, I was just thinking about something else.”

“What were you thinking about? Really, you should rest today.”

The look she gave me was so stern that I felt if I refused, I’d get scolded. I nodded.

“Yes. I think resting today would be best.”

Seeing this, Jane looked at me as though she had seen a ghost. Then, she came over, touched my forehead, and even waved her hand in front of my eyes.

“No fever… How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three.”

“Luckily, you seem mentally sound… Are you feeling that unwell?”

Is it really so unusual for me to agree to rest that it concerns her about my mental state? Suddenly, I felt disillusioned about my life. Fine, I’ll show them what relaxing really looks like!

However, despite my determination, I couldn’t figure out what exactly to do for fun. After some contemplation, I asked,

“Jane, what do noble ladies usually do for fun?”

Jane looked at me, unexpectedly flustered, and replied,

“My Lady, you’re the first person I’ve served since graduating from maid school. So, I’m not really sure.”

“…”

“I’ve heard they usually go for a morning walk, have afternoon tea, and attend dinners or parties in the evening, or participate in special gatherings.”

“Special gatherings?”

“I don’t know all the details, but some noblewomen, especially those with specific hobbies, form such gatherings. As you know, some groups sponsor artists, others hold book clubs… But the most common activity is card games.”

“Gambling?”

“Yes…”

Jane bit her lip as if she’d just taught me something wrong. But to me, it wasn’t particularly surprising; I already knew nobles of both genders were engrossed in card games. How bored must they be? I had received a few invitations for card games right after my marriage, but I declined them all.

It’s likely one of the reasons I became a social outcast. My parents, too, avoided card games because they didn’t want to waste money on gambling and were thus viewed as odd by society. But even if I were aware of that, I couldn’t justify gambling away the Keppel family’s money—especially when my husband doesn’t do it. Ian doesn’t avoid it because of the expense, but more because he dislikes people, it seems.

“Then what about you, Jane? What do you do to relax?”

“Pardon?”

“Whenever you get time off, you always go out. You didn’t go to have fun?”

“Oh, I send letters to my family, walk through shopping districts to check out the latest trends, buy newsletters, or pick up snacks to share with the other maids.”

Neither Jane nor I knew much about having fun. After a moment’s thought, I decided to visit an old friend. Joyce’s townhouse was right in the middle of the noble district, an expensive area. When I had first married, I had thought of purchasing a townhouse here for my mother, but there were so few properties available that prices were steep.

Molly had recently bought a townhouse for her son and daughter-in-law to comfortably stay during the social season, which caused quite a bit of envy in society. I’d also heard rumors that Baron Molly had recently profited handsomely from investments in shipping and was even building a few ships. Given their success, I assumed the atmosphere in their household would be bright—but that wasn’t the case.

“The Duchess of Keppel? Did you have an appointment?”

“No. Is Joyce not home?”

“No, she is here.”

Molly’s new butler, seemingly flustered, led me to the drawing room. I quietly observed him, finding him unfamiliar, and he returned my gaze with curiosity.

“Oh, I don’t think we’ve met before. Did the previous butler retire?”

“…I’m not sure. I’m the butler now.”

He didn’t seem fully trained. I swallowed my suspicions and waited patiently. After about half an hour, Joyce, looking pale, finally came down.

“Joyce, are you unwell?”

“Duchess.”

Ignoring my question, she bowed her head gracefully. The abruptness left me at a loss for what to say.

“Surprised to see you here unannounced.”

“…Why the sudden formality?”

“Though we were close in our younger days, that time has passed.”

Joyce was once my closest friend, even the witness at my wedding. I’d come here to ask for her signature on my divorce papers, but her unfamiliar demeanor made it hard to bring up.

“Did I catch you when you’re feeling under the weather?”

“No, I’m fine. But next time, it would be better if you let me know in advance so the staff isn’t put in a difficult position.”

Scheduling an appointment at tea time is something you’d do with a mere acquaintance, like someone you’re meeting for the first time.

For nobles, the tea time period is usually open to guests, and a bustling house indicates a wide social network. If the guest has no acquaintances, then family members would typically welcome them instead. Feeling the distance between us, I hesitated.

“Marriage has made you seem so much more mature. Your staff must really appreciate it.”

To be honest, Joyce had been a typical noble young lady, only friendly with her close maids and often curt with others. For her to now use her staff as an excuse—it almost seemed as if she’d grown up. Or perhaps she was still adjusting to her staff after her recent marriage. I struggled to find words and instead brought up the butler I had seen earlier.

“Now that I think about it, what happened to the former butler? Is he ill?”

Molly’s previous butler was someone I’d met several times, so if he had health issues, I wanted to send a gift. But Joyce, face expressionless, replied in a flat tone.

“He’s just gotten older.”

I waited for her to continue, but she offered no further explanation. It was clear that Joyce wasn’t interested in talking. I started thinking it might be better to leave, but then, almost unconsciously, I sighed. I hadn’t done anything wrong, after all.

“Joyce, did I do something wrong?”

For the first time, Joyce burst into a laugh, a short chuckle that quickly turned into something more bitter, almost like a sob she was trying to stifle. I was now certain something was wrong.

“Is there something going on?”

But Joyce, forcing herself to stop laughing, put on a straight face and replied.

“It’s nothing.”

She looked almost deranged, or at least on the verge of it. I started to worry. Joyce had always been as cheerful as her name implied. Of us all, I was the pessimist, and Joyce, the most optimistic. She was, in other words, carefree to a fault. For her to act this way suggested something very serious had happened.

“Let’s go outside. How about a walk?”

“I can’t go outside.”

“…Why?”

“I’m not feeling well.”

“But you said you were fine earlier.”

Without a word, Joyce simply sat there with an expressionless face. I felt as though if I left now, she’d reject any future visits, even if I scheduled them. In the past, I would have felt hurt but let it go. However, I couldn’t back down this time. I needed her to sign my divorce papers.