“Still, you should have sent word about your arrival beforehand, at the very least!”

“I-I was just…!”

Though her scolding was directed at Cradoc, it was clearly meant for Caleb. Of course, Caleb paid her no mind.

‘What’s the use? He never listens to such things.’

Matilda sighed quietly, worried that her indifferent master might one day bring tears to the eyes of their lovely future duchess. Turning to Astrid, she offered a heartfelt apology.

“Please forgive us, my lady. To welcome such an esteemed guest without proper preparation is inexcusable. The knights only recently returned from a monster expedition, so things are still a bit chaotic, and we are lacking in many ways.”

“N-no, I…!”

Flustered by Matilda’s formal apology, Astrid stammered.

“I need to see Elkan first. I’ll see you at dinner.”

“…Lord Caleb?”

Astrid reached out toward Caleb in surprise.

But Caleb was already walking toward a building on the other side, with Cradoc hurrying after him. The two moved so quickly that they soon disappeared from Astrid’s sight, leaving her standing alone in a strange place with a person she had never met before.

“…They’re gone.”

Trying to break the awkward silence, Astrid spoke, but Matilda gave her a sympathetic look.

“Dear me, do you already miss him? You’ll be together from now on, so don’t feel too disheartened, my lady.”

“No, that’s not it…”

Matilda’s misunderstanding prompted Astrid to open her mouth to clarify, but she soon closed her lips tightly. Matilda, her face full of smiles, was looking at her with such a pleased expression.

“There’s no way an explanation would work on that face, is there?”

It seemed Matilda had already assumed that she must naturally be fond of Caleb.

“Well… it’s not exactly wrong, but still…!”

Astrid suddenly caught herself admitting her feelings for Caleb and widened her eyes in surprise.

“…Lady?”

Noticing Astrid’s stiffened expression, Matilda called out to her with concern.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I must be feeling a bit tense,” Astrid replied, forcing an awkward smile.

Matilda nodded, her face showing understanding.

“Of course! You’ve had a long journey. Let’s head inside for now, my lady. You can explore the castle later.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Would you kindly call me Matilda?”

“…All right, Matilda.”

At Astrid’s compliance, Matilda slightly bent her knees, bowing with gratitude.

“The servants will be overjoyed. Everyone in this enormous castle has been eagerly awaiting the arrival of its mistress.”

“…Oh.”

Her voice was filled with excitement. Matilda was surprisingly warm, expressing that everyone in the castle had been waiting for her. Even if her words were only half true, it was a relief that the worst-case scenario wasn’t unfolding.

Astrid was supposed to feel reassured, but instead, an unshakable fear gripped her.

“…They’ve all been waiting? Surely I’m not the kind of mistress they imagined.”

Her current appearance was unremarkable—dressed like a commoner, with a frail, childlike frame. She was a foreign bride from another land with no substantial background to support her. Moreover, she was a widow, having been the second wife to an aged count.

She could hardly expect the people of Cliff Castle to truly welcome someone like her.

‘I want to be a beloved duchess.’

The prayer she had whispered when leaving Hestian came to mind, and Astrid felt ashamed of her secret desire.

‘I have nothing. Such a wish is far too greedy.’

At the time of her penance, she had only wished to live quietly in a monastery for the rest of her life. But as circumstances changed, her desires began to surface, leaving her feeling shameless.

‘Forget being loved—I just hope they won’t hate me.’

She knew such self-deprecating thoughts were useless, offering no solution, yet she couldn’t control the storm of emotions.

“…My lady?”

Snapping out of her daze at Matilda’s voice, Astrid met her gaze. Her face held only concern, with no sign of hostility. And yet, she couldn’t suppress her growing unease.

‘What is wrong with me?’

Astrid asked herself, and then she realized the absence of Caleb—the only familiar face who had been with her the entire journey from Hestian to Croatan.

‘Foolish. I promised myself I wouldn’t be a burden.’

Apparently, she had been unconsciously relying on Caleb as a source of comfort. Now, without him, she felt like a lost child, overwhelmed by her own vulnerability.

‘Astrid Bowell, you’ve become such a coward.’

Astrid painfully acknowledged the reality of her situation. The bright, confident girl she once was had vanished entirely.

Her father’s death had been the start of her misfortunes, and the events that followed had consumed her life. Restoring her life to what it once was felt like an insurmountable task.

Three years of suffering had left deep scars, and she doubted whether she could embrace her marred past and begin anew.

Astrid had no confidence in herself.

***

Once inside the main castle, Matilda led her through what could only be described as a whirlwind of activity.

The first thing Astrid did was strip off her travel clothes and step into a warm bath. The water was infused with rose petals and essential oils, lovingly prepared by Matilda herself.

Her nails were trimmed and cleaned, and she was dressed in a gown that had been prepared in advance. Matilda, along with the maid Edith and several attendants, was so enthusiastic that Astrid could only surrender herself to their efforts.

From the moment she woke to the moment she slept, Astrid had once lived a life of being dressed, adorned, and attended to by others.

In the three years since she had left that life behind, she had learned to do everything for herself.

But judging by how quickly she adapted to being served again, it seemed old habits died hard.

“Sister Astrid, you’re no longer a lady but a sinner! Yet you still haven’t let go of your arrogance and laziness. How dare you talk back to a priest like me?”

At the monastery, no matter how much she tried to conform, Father Dylan had always found fault with her. Whether it was her expression, her posture, or even her gait, he had criticized everything. And he always ended his tirades with those scathing words.

The words accusing her of pretending to be a noble despite being a sinner—words she once dismissed as baseless nitpicking—suddenly felt like they might hold some truth.

At the time, those words had only hurt. But now, faced with her current circumstances, she found herself oddly thankful for knowing how to act like a noble.

‘At least they won’t doubt my origins,’ she thought, a bitter smile creeping onto her face.

“My Lady, take a look in the mirror. What do you think?”

At the maid’s suggestion, Astrid slowly shifted her gaze forward to the mirror in front of her.

Astrid Bowell.

Though she appeared thinner and more haggard than before, the reflection staring back at her was undeniably the same woman once called the “Bowell’s Jewel.”

“Just a few good meals and some rest, and you’ll look even better. And we must also prepare proper dresses and accessories. Lord Caleb has assured us we can use the budget as needed, so there’s no need to worry,” Matilda said reassuringly, evidently uneasy about the simplicity of the duchess’s wardrobe.

“Thank you, Matilda,” Astrid replied.

“How about this evening dress? I had to adjust the seams in a hurry, but…”

Noticing the worry on Matilda’s face, Astrid offered a faint smile. The thought that Matilda wasn’t the only one feeling nervous helped soften her own tension.

“Hm. This design and material have been trending in the Empire for a few years now. Was it imported? And this earring and necklace set—Blissan craftsmanship, perhaps? It’s excellent.”

Matilda, astonished by Astrid’s astute observations as she ran her fingers over the diamond pendant around her neck, clapped her hands in delight.

“You have such an eye for these things! Truly fitting for a lady of the Bowell family.”

“No, not at all. It’s just that… my mother passed away early, so I took over the household duties when I was young,” Astrid replied modestly.

Matilda beamed at her humility.

“As expected, His Grace certainly made the right choice. Bowell is known to be one of the finest noble families in Hestian. Not only are you beautiful, but you’re also well-suited to be a mistress. Lord Caleb is truly fortunate!”

Matilda’s warm words of encouragement helped ease Astrid’s nerves further, and a bright smile began to spread across her pale, delicate face.

“…My goodness.”

“…?”

The unexpected voice startled Astrid, and she turned her head. It was Edith, the maid who had been quietly assisting Matilda throughout the preparations, exclaiming in awe.

“Your smile is so lovely, my lady! Like a young rose blooming with the freshness of morning dew.”

Until now, Edith had been silently focused on her tasks, and Astrid had assumed her to be reserved. But once she spoke, a stream of effusive compliments poured out, making Astrid blush.

“Ah, um, thank you…” Astrid stammered, caught off guard.

Unbothered by Astrid’s embarrassment, Edith continued, “This castle, which has been overrun by grim, burly men for so long, finally feels graced with the warmth of spring! Forgive me if I’m being overly talkative, but I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you in my life.”

Astrid, growing more flustered by Edith’s poetic praise, silently reddened, barely resisting the urge to jokingly ask if Edith’s dream was to become a bard. But Edith’s sincerity kept her from voicing such a remark.

Despite the straightforwardness of Edith’s words, they were not exaggerations. Astrid’s beauty, once hidden behind her short hair and plain attire, had been brought back to life by Matilda and Edith’s efforts.

The nickname “Bowell’s Jewel” had been given not only for Astrid’s gentle nature and intelligence but also for her striking appearance. Even as a child, she had often been told she would grow to be the most beautiful woman in Hestian. It was a primary reason her cousin Fabiola had harbored such animosity toward her.

Her sea-blue eyes, shimmering golden hair as fine as threads, and graceful features had matured into those of a stunning young woman. Though traces of her youth still lingered, Edith’s sharp perception recognized that Astrid’s beauty would soon fully bloom.

However, to Astrid, who had lost three years of her life as a lady, Edith’s words seemed like nothing more than a polite courtesy.

‘If Edith’s words were true… That’s impossible.’

If she were truly so beautiful, Caleb wouldn’t treat her the way he did.

Though unfailingly kind, Caleb never regarded her as a woman. To him, she was still the pitiable fifteen-year-old girl he had first met—or a valuable informant for the future. Astrid understood this better than anyone.