However, he was resolute without a shred of sympathy toward those who clung to inherited wealth without any effort of their own, failed to preserve even that, and then approached him brandishing only their noble title. To Pendlore, they were merely society’s dregs, not worth a glance.

“My advice is to return what little land you have left to the imperial family and live on the pension. If you stay away from alcohol and gambling, your retirement will be comfortable.”

“Ha, but if I return the territory, our family……”

“Your crest will merely fall from the imperial hall wall; it’s not as if your head will be cut off along with it.”

Pendlore coldly threw aside even the formalities he had been maintaining and rose from his seat first. He had wasted time on something meaningless. As he checked his remaining appointments, he suddenly thought of the woman who would now be taking lessons in his mansion.

A woman wearing clothes he had given her, in the annex of the Duston estate that he had decorated just for her, attentively listening to the voice of the tutor he had hired.

Pendlore’s mood, which had sunk low, brightened somewhat. He had finished his worthless business, so perhaps he should return now. Just as he was about to leave one of the places for quiet conversation among upper-class men—a bath or salon—

“Pendlore!”

A familiar voice stopped Pendlore. It was Cherse Ruard, one of the few people he could call a friend.

With his deep red hair neatly groomed, he was dressed more splendidly than usual. A golden watch chain hung near his waist, and the hawthorn branch berry jewel pinned to his lapel gleamed in the lamplight.

One of Pendlore’s eyebrows quirked upward at this formal appearance.

“Are you going to the garden party at your age?”

“It’s escorting, escorting! My cousin’s younger sister. Even if there’s no age limit for garden parties, I’m not shameless enough to mingle with the kids.”

The only qualification for attending a garden party was being unmarried. As long as one matched the invitation and dress code, one could enter regardless of age, but people implicitly refrained from attending after reaching twenty-six.

“Above all, I have a lady I serve with all my heart.”

Cherse pressed close to his friend and whispered insinuatingly.

“Just like you. Hmm? Count Pendlore Duston, blinded by love, turning every tailor shop in town upside down.”

Pendlore’s ordering of dresses for his lover from every famous tailor shop was already well-known. For him, it was simply to make Radilt, who didn’t have a single decent piece of clothing, look presentable, but people didn’t see it that way.

“……Yes. I was just heading to that beloved person now.”

At his words, which meant “mind your own business and get lost,” Cherse’s face grew even more animated.

“Listen, my friend. People say you and Lady Brill will never lead to marriage. But not me.”

He continued, his eyes shining with pure friendship and gentle affection.

“What great flaw is being a widow? The mere fact that she is the unique woman who penetrated your iron-fortress heart makes her more than qualified to be the Countess of Duston!”

“……”

“So I support you unconditionally. As long as your love is genuine, I will forever be on yours and Lady Brill’s side.”

Cherse laughed heartily as he casually draped his arm over Pendlore’s shoulder. Pendlore silently removed his friend’s arm. Cherse exhaled a deep, emotion-laden breath and gazed at Pendlore with glistening eyes.

“Perhaps you’ll hold your ceremony before I do. If you need a witness, call me anytime.”

“Thanks anyway.”

Pendlore turned away, giving a noncommittal answer to Cherse, who was making a fuss with premature congratulations. His feet took large, purposeful strides.

Being a widow, being poor, coming from a vastly different family—Pendlore himself didn’t consider such things problematic.

But Radilt Brill would never become Countess Duston. Genuine love—there was not a speck of that. He and she were merely bound by a contractual relationship. They would never face each other before God and exchange vows.

* * *

“If you find yourself in a difficult situation, try to naturally move to Lord Duston’s side. A gentleman can step in for the lady he escorted at any time and in any situation.”

Lady Roud gave Radilt tips, as she needed to learn many things in a short period.

“Standing quietly next to Lord Duston with just a faint smile and saying nothing is also acceptable.”

“Ah… I see.”

“Yes. Today’s noble ladies tend to be more active, but since parties will be unfamiliar to you, Lady Brill, this approach will be fine.”

Radilt nodded somewhat glumly. To Count Duston, Radilt Brill would be nothing more than a simple ornament. Other people, and certainly he as well, would expect nothing more from her than to prettily keep to her place.

Despite knowing this fact well, a melancholy breeze seemed to brush through one corner of her heart.

“Now, let’s review. Who is this person?”

“That is Duchess Babloth. She is the emperor’s sister.”

Radilt answered in turn about the people whose faces and names she had to memorize separately and to whom she needed to show special courtesy. She made a few mistakes and got confused, but she got most of them right. For a short study time, it was quite impressive.

“Excellent. You have a good memory.”

“At the perfume shop, I had to remember customers’ faces and characteristics well.”

She had worked hard to remember not only their names but also their preferences, connecting them with customers’ appearances. How delightful it had been when regular customers gradually increased. A melancholy smile formed at the corners of Radilt’s lips.

“You won’t need to introduce yourself to other people. The moment you enter the hall with Lord Duston, everyone will recognize you. There’s no need to state your name separately.”

“……”

Radilt swallowed a heavy sigh at the statement that she was currently the talk of high society. Already her shoulders felt heavy, and her cheeks burned hot.

“Then…… it would be difficult to just stand quietly in a corner and leave, wouldn’t it?”

“Of course. Everyone will want to speak with you. Even if you use Lord Duston as a shield, you won’t be able to hide throughout the entire party.”

Lady Roud comforted Radilt, telling her not to worry too much.

“The good thing about the upper class is that they maintain courtesy at least where others can see. Everyone will be outwardly kind. Pretend you know nothing, act innocent.”

“Act innocent……?”

“Yes. Since they’ll already know about your background, if you maintain basic courtesy and minimize conversation, you’ll be treated with consideration.”

Radilt nodded silently. Essentially, she was being told that people’s expectations of her were low, so things would be fine. While thinking this was fortunate, a bitterness lingered in her mouth.

The morning passed quickly as she learned conversation methods to be cautious about. Even by lunchtime, Pendlore had not returned home, so Radilt dined with Lady Roud.

During the meal, she also learned about banquet foods. At what point, in what manner, and how much to taste.

“If you don’t speak, that’s fine. Silence is a virtue of nobility, and in your position, it’s not difficult to avoid conversation. But your physical bearing is different.”

In the afternoon, they moved on to actions to refresh their minds. Lady Roud positioned Radilt in the center of the study and critiqued her posture.

“Countless eyes will observe your every movement. They may not expect much from you, but at minimum, you should maintain Lord Duston’s dignity.”

“……Yes.”

“Polishing Lady Brill, who has no background, is Lord Duston’s duty and responsibility as your lover. Your flaws become his flaws.”

Radilt swallowed what must have been her umpteenth sigh at Lady Roud’s words.

“Your basic posture is neat. Have you ever danced?”

“At formal events, no.”

She had danced before. But mostly at village or street festivals, with carefree movements, spinning around without strict formality. Loudly chattering, clapping hands, and having fun. The kind of dancing where missing a beat, stumbling, or occasionally stepping on someone’s foot could be laughed off.

At Radilt’s response, Lady Roud’s brow slightly furrowed.

“Then we’ll have to learn everything from the beginning. To master it properly, you’ll need a skilled partner……”

Just then, a soft knock sounded. Assistant butler Rosie raised her voice slightly so they could hear it.

“Lady Brill, the master has arrived.”

Pendlore had arrived. Lady Roud quickly gestured to the flustered Radilt to grant permission.

“C-come in.”

The door opened, and the tall man’s figure filled Radilt’s eyes. Pendlore immediately approached her and respectfully kissed the back of her hand.

“I apologize for the delay in greeting you despite your visit to this humble mansion, Lady Brill.”

“……No. I’m grateful that you remembered to come.”

After greeting Radilt, Pendlore turned to Lady Roud.

“Lady Roud, how were the lady’s lessons?”

“She was excellent overall.”

Lady Roud answered with a respectful bow.

“However, I was concerned because she cannot dance at all. To learn properly, you would need to bring in a dance instructor, but there aren’t many female teachers who can play the male role, and since it’s spring, most would be with young ladies.”

Female teachers were preferred for teaching dance to innocent young ladies who hadn’t even made their society debut. They worked hard to polish their skills until early summer, when the social season officially began.

Naturally, with summer approaching, dance teachers were in the shortest supply.

“That’s not a problem.”