“I will overlook her discourtesy—for today. It is her birthday.”
It sounded less like generosity and more like a solemn warning.
Silently acknowledging this, the Marquess of Matwood turned to Sveta and smiled gently. He had mild features and a refined, courteous manner.
Sveta returned the smile politely.
She felt guilty for making him sweat because of her. The entire situation left her feeling deeply uncomfortable, as though she were the cause of a tension she had never intended to create.
He apologized once more.
“I will speak firmly to my daughter. I ask that Your Grace forget today’s incident.”
“……”
When he received no reply, the Marquess let out an awkward laugh. He excused himself, saying that he would bring his daughter back.
“Is this what you meant by the power I possess?”
As she waited for his answer, Sveta smoothed down the hem of her skirt absentmindedly.
The fabric felt soft beneath her fingers.
She had been told that the airy, lilac dress had been imported from Sweenia.
She had bought it from a dressmaker last spring.
‘He did not seem particularly fond of it then…’
So why was he looking at her now with such a heavy gaze?
His eyes lingered along the neckline that dipped low at her collarbone.
“That is not your power. It is mine.”
His voice was unapologetically arrogant.
Perhaps it was the display of authority itself, but Aiden seemed more formidable than usual.
As he raised his wineglass, the signet ring engraved with an arrow caught the light on his large left hand.
“Your influence exists only when you stand beside me.”
“…I don’t understand what you mean.”
“It means that I am the one swayed by you.”
“That can’t be true. You forced me to come to this banquet.”
A faint smile brushed his lips.
Turning his gaze forward, Aiden replied in an even tone.
“Then I suppose I shall exercise my power over you as well.”
“……”
Those who had been lingering at a distance soon began to approach the Duke, who was now standing alone.
The men and women were dressed in various styles.
They greeted him in different accents.
Yet they all expressed the same tone of praise.
Amid the shifting currents of conversation, Aiden received them with effortless elegance.
‘So it’s true that House Matwood oversees diplomacy…’
Surrounded by strangers from faraway lands, Sveta stood awkwardly by his side.
All she wanted was for the banquet to end quickly, allowing her to retreat to somewhere familiar — her bedchamber.
To lie beneath its narrow canopy, hidden behind drawn curtains.
To disappear into its dark, quiet comfort.
“Duke Strilland.”
No sooner had a nobleman from Sweenia departed than another approached, announcing himself as a representative of the Teris royal court.
“It has been a long time.”
“A pleasure to see you, Count Lowell.”
Count Lowell inclined his head slightly.
‘…He resembles someone.’
As Sveta studied him, she realized he bore a striking resemblance to Hazel, Aiden’s elder brother.
When the Count’s green eyes shifted toward her, Aiden explained.
“Count Lowell is my mother’s elder brother.”
“It is a pleasure, Count Lowell.”
Sveta lifted her skirt slightly and bent her knees in greeting.
The Count returned the gesture with a respectful nod.
He glanced at Sveta briefly, almost regretfully, before turning back to Aiden.
Perhaps because they were related, their conversation was more serious than his earlier ones.
“…It concerns Jace Gould. According to the information we have obtained, at present—”
As the topic became more sensitive, Count Lowell lowered his voice.
His eyes flickered downwards towards Sveta, as though he were uneasy in her presence.
She had heard that Aiden’s sister, as well as the princess and prince of Prisada and Teris respectively, had perished on what came to be known as Bloody Saturday.
For them, the event was of grave importance.
‘Jace Gould. Bloody Saturday.’
The name she had momentarily forgotten resurfaced, heavy and suffocating.
Not wishing to hear more, Sveta tightened her hold on Aiden’s arm around her waist.
“I’ll step outside for some air. Please take your time.”
“No.”
“…It sounds important.”
“……”
Rising slightly on her toes, she leaned close enough that only he could hear her whisper.
“This is when you’re meant to be swayed by me, Your Grace.”
“……”
Aiden’s gaze dropped to the faint curve of her lips.
He slowly withdrew his hand from her waist.
Before they could continue their conversation, Sveta left the room.
She could feel his gaze lingering on her back.
***
The Marquess of Matwood placed a hand upon his daughter’s rounded shoulder.
Alyona trembled more dramatically in response.
“Why do you keep defending that barbarian harlot? I never imagined you would side with her as well, Father!”
“What are you saying, my dear?”
“You defended her in the hall. And don’t think I don’t know that you were the one who suppressed the rumors about her being a barbarian!”
Tears streamed down her cheeks, undoing the careful work of her makeup.
The Marquess quickly withdrew a handkerchief and dabbed gently at her damp face.
“Are you referring to the rumor you spread?”
“Rumor? Lady Noma herself gave me a portrait. It clearly bore the name ‘Beth Gould’…”
“Mind your tongue, Alyona. Such reckless rumors will do you no good. You, too, will soon be a Strilland.”
“Sniff… sob…”
Alyona snatched the handkerchief from her father and started to cry out loud. Pale streaks marred the white powder on her cheeks.
Before returning to the banquet hall, he decided that she should first powder her face. Nevertheless, he offered a measured warning.
“Be careful with your words and conduct, Alyona. No more foolish games.”
“Again—again! You’re defending that woman! I’m so hurt, Father. And him… you saw it! It’s my birthday. How could he do that?”
“Endure it. These things are often resolved by time.”
The Marquess looked at his daughter with quiet concern.
Alyona pouted and bit her lips in childish frustration, smearing the red lipstick against her small, rabbit-like front teeth. In front of others, she could imitate the poise of a proper lady well enough. But with her father, she dropped the pretense and became a child again.
Her whining brought back the headache that had only just begun to fade.
His affection for her was undeniable, but that did nothing to ease the pounding in his head.
With a weary sigh, he pressed his fingers to his throbbing temple.
“But what you need most now is patience, Alyona.”
“I told you—I have no patience. Sniff…”
As she sulked like a child, a phrase surfaced in his mind.
‘The Grandly Mad Lady of Renan, Alyona.’
That was what society called her — a dig at her bad manners.
The Marquess paid it no mind.
After all, gossip in the social sphere moved in a different direction to politics.
At least it did in Aetania.
‘A tempest in a teacup among idle women—no more than a flutter of skirts.’
The real world turned atop men’s desks.
His daughter was a woman.
She had no capacity to alter such matters.
‘Once she is married off, that is enough.’
This thought was separate from his feelings for her.
However, offending the duke before the marriage was finalized would cause problems.
He soothed her again.
“Think of the man who will be your husband and endure it. No man favors a woman who weeps.”
It was said sincerely.
No matter what she did, she was lovely to him.
However, he doubted that the duke would tolerate Alyona’s tears.
He recalled the cold eyes of the man who would become his son-in-law.
‘Yes. He is not the sort of man moved by a woman’s tears.’
Aiden Strilland.
The fact that he chose Matwood’s hand was merely a matter of fortunate timing.
Had the Queen not expressed an interest in him and suggested granting permission for the marriage, he might already have become a member of the Teris royal family.
Behind closed doors, the old duke had been negotiating a marriage between Aiden and a Teris princess.
‘Had that occurred, trade with Muwieo would have been beyond our reach.
The Marquess shook his head, trying to dispel the unsettling thought.
The trade proposal that the Duke had offered in exchange for this engagement was an unprecedented opportunity for House Matwood. It would extend their influence from southwestern Sweenia all the way to southern Muwieo.
Muwieo was no ordinary land.
It was a maritime power and the only nation with active trade links to the New Continent. For now, ships travelled there only occasionally. However, it was only a matter of time before the center of commerce shifted towards those seas.
When that happened, Strilland, already at the forefront, was destined to become the wealthiest power on the continent.
‘Truly, the world is impossible to predict.’
This was an age of upheaval.
He thought of the Tess War—of the rebellions that had followed in its wake. Before the echoes of the conflict between Teris and Sweenia had even faded, two kings of Aetania had already fallen.
The world was shifting too quickly, too violently.
In times like these, it was far wiser to grasp the hand of a powerful duke than to place one’s trust in a queen whose throne might crumble at any moment.
‘A mere mistress.’
In the sweep of such history, the existence of a lowborn woman was insignificant.
“Of course. That is all it is.”
No mistress could obstruct the grand affairs of men.
Alyona, lifting her tearful face to him, suddenly shrieked.
“You only care about business, don’t you? You don’t care about me at all!”
“No, Alyona. I speak as a man, that is all. Do you wish to know what truly lies in the Duke’s heart?”
Alyona’s tears had already ceased.
She lifted her eyes.
Her lashes, set high and carefully darkened, fluttered coyly.
“A man’s heart toward a woman generally falls into two kinds. One is the kind of regard I once held for your late mother—a respect that endures.”
“And the other?”
“The other is no more than amusement. Like tending a pretty ornamental plant.”
At that moment, a faint rustling reached his ears.
It came from below the balcony.
The Marquess leaned slightly, looking past his daughter’s shoulder.
She was there.
The woman.
The fragile flower the Duke so carefully cherished.
The vulgar mistress.
Her trembling blue eyes slowly lifted—then met his.
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Danes96
Sveta podría ser una princesa ?
Lo sé, cliché. Pero sería agradable ver la cara de esos dos arrogantes ( Aiden y Alyona) al enterarse que Sveta, tiene sangre incluso más noble que ellos