Another hand intercepted and snatched the letter away.
“Huh?”
It happened so fast she was dumbfounded at first.
Then, confirming the person who took the letter was Astaire, still her husband, Daphne’s face crumpled.
“Please return it, Your Grace.”
“What if I refuse?”
“That’s a letter I wrote myself.”
“If the Duchess wrote it, then I as the Duke have the right to read it too.”
Complete and utter sophistry.
Yet Astaire held out his hand, demanding she hand over the letter. Unable to bear it any longer, the head butler spoke with a troubled expression.
“It’s a letter from the young mistress to the Grand Duchess.”
“Then all the more reason I should read it.”
Rip, rip, rip.
Before Daphne could snatch the letter back, Astaire tore open the envelope.
The head butler wondered if this was really necessary, but could hardly talk back to his master. No matter how unreasonable Astaire was being.
As expected, the letter’s contents were unremarkable.
I hope you arrived safely in the south. I heard there will be heavy rain in the Casteon region soon.
I hope nothing goes wrong, and be happy.
Considering the relationship between Daphne and the Grand Duchess, the closing “be happy” felt peculiar.
Still, it wasn’t something family couldn’t say to each other, and could be seen as just a common greeting, so it was ambiguous.
“Come to think of it, it’s almost July.”
The head butler said, sweating profusely.
July—the annual heavy rains in the southern region were practically a yearly event.
“…Is there a problem?”
“No. Not particularly.”
Despite it being an utterly ordinary letter of greeting, Astaire’s expression looked far from satisfied.
“Something’s strange. I feel like I’m missing something big.”
The head butler looked at Astaire in secret surprise. He couldn’t believe this man, meticulous in all matters, could be missing something.
But the Duchess’s reaction was also unusual.
She said nothing, just quietly bit her lip and glared at Astaire.
Astaire looked directly at his wife and commanded the head butler.
“Send someone to the south. Tell them to watch over Mother carefully.”
“Pardon? Yes.”
“Tell them to watch for anything unusual—doing things she doesn’t normally do, meeting strange people.”
“The Grand Duchess… you mean?”
Cold sweat ran down the butler’s forehead.
Astaire made no further comment on the matter.
It was silent pressure to faithfully carry out his orders.
“Are there any other important letters?”
“Ah. There is one.”
The butler had already set aside an envelope and handed it to Astaire.
“An invitation. A banquet at the Imperial Palace.”
Astaire’s eyes narrowed. At his muttering, Daphne sitting across from him also showed a slightly surprised expression.
It wasn’t the beginning or end of the year, nor was there an upcoming imperial birthday—why a sudden palace banquet?
The feeling wasn’t good.
And when he unfolded the invitation and read the details, the unease finally became reality.
“An unexpected variable.”
Astaire muttered as he set the letter down on the table with a thud.
What on earth did it say?
Daphne could only understand his words after picking up and reading the letter herself.
* * *
Next week.
Daphne stood awkwardly before a full-length mirror, examining her appearance.
Hair piled high and tied with ribbons, face powdered white and lips painted red. Elaborate makeup completed over a long time by the maids’ hands.
She was tired of having to do this every time to attend a palace banquet.
Still, she just had to endure a little longer.
Though Astaire had exercised his chilling intuition to place surveillance disguised as guards on the Grand Duchess, even so. But fortunately, he still hadn’t noticed.
What she and the Grand Duchess were plotting.
To disguise her purpose, it was best to play the cooperative Duchess to Astaire, at least for now.
She was already used to acting.
And sick of it too.
“My, the dress suits you so well.”
The maid helping with her grooming poured out admiration from the side. Regardless, Daphne stared blankly at herself in the mirror.
“His Grace will surely be satisfied with this.”
Daphne imagined it.
When she came out from behind that red curtain, Astaire sitting elegantly on the sofa would look her up and down and say, “Not bad.”
Predictable as could be.
“It’s the Imperial Palace banquet, after all. Everything the Duchess eats and wears will become the fashion of the Avont Empire.”
Unlike the enthusiastic maid, Daphne had little interest. She just needed to fill her seat adequately anyway.
“There, you’re ready now!”
Daphne grasped the hem of her red dress and emerged from behind the curtain.
Swoosh!
The hem of the dress fluttered with the curtain.
As expected, Astaire sat on the sofa reading a newspaper.
He glanced at Daphne just once, then turned his eyes back to the newspaper.
“I’m done.”
“Is that all?”
When someone speaks to you, you should look at their face, but he didn’t even do that.
Flutter.
Watching Astaire casually turn the page of his newspaper, Daphne bit her lip.
“You match His Grace so well!”
The dress was tailored to fit perfectly from shoulders to waist, emphasizing an elegant silhouette. From the waist it spread softly, swaying gently like rose petals with each step.
No one would be able to take their eyes off her. If they looked even once.
But Astaire didn’t give her even that single glance.
“Not good enough.”
Without properly looking, he gave his curt assessment. The maids who’d been watching the Duke’s mood quietly went back inside.
Going back behind the curtain, Daphne changed dresses.
“His Grace will surely like this one.”
Whether Astaire liked it or not, Daphne just wanted to leave for the banquet quickly. She only thought of going and returning quickly to rest at the estate.
Unaware of her feelings, the maid chattered excitedly.
“His Grace truly has an eye. That earlier dress… is a bit behind the current fashion.”
Swoosh!
The curtain opened, and this time Daphne appeared in a different dress.
A green dress reminiscent of a fresh early summer forest. It showcased splendor and natural beauty fit for a forest queen. The dress’s movement with each step was beautiful, like walking through a forest.
“Don’t you have anything else?”
Astaire spoke without properly looking.
The quick-witted maids took Daphne back behind the curtain again.
This time it was a blue dress.
“Tacky.”
He mercilessly judged the custom dress painstakingly created by the most successful designer in the entire Empire’s capital at present.
“Looks like a burlap sack. Don’t you have any other clothes?”
“…”
Astaire set down the newspaper and sank deep into the sofa, draping his arm over it. He watched Daphne like someone who’d come to see a fashion show.
In that moment, Daphne realized.
He was doing this deliberately. To break her spirit. To show her what could she possibly do. He was warning Daphne that her situation was one where she couldn’t even freely choose a single outfit.
“Go back inside.”
Daphne took the troubled maids back behind the curtain.
She pushed aside the numerous dresses in the wardrobe and grabbed a black dress.
Seeing Daphne pull out that outfit herself, the maids made troubled expressions. But none of them could readily stop Daphne, the Duchess.
“My lady, that dress is a bit… wouldn’t it be inappropriate for the banquet?”
“His Grace is wearing a black tailcoat, so why shouldn’t I be able to wear black?”
At Daphne’s words, everyone fell silent, unable to argue. They all wordlessly helped her change with quick hands.
Swoosh!
“How about now?”
Daphne said, approaching him.
Step, step. Just two steps were enough to get close to Astaire. At the different sound of footsteps from before, Astaire finally looked up from his newspaper.
Then, for the first time, he set down the newspaper and looked at Daphne.
His gaze lingered for quite a while for the first time.
Daphne quietly bit her lip and said.
“We’re out of time. We need to leave now or we’ll be late to the banquet.”
“Even if we’re late to the banquet, no one will say anything.”
Astaire said, slowly rising like a languid lion. He stroked his chin with one hand and looked Daphne over from head to toe. His eyes narrowed into long slits as he gazed at her.
“Not bad.”
A black chiffon dress with a long, flowing silhouette. The way it swayed with each step evoked a goddess of the night.
It matched well with the perfectly fitted black tailcoat Astaire wore. The red flower attached to his right chest indicated the two were partners.
“Shall we depart now?”
Astaire said, extending his hand.
The hand he offered seemed just like one leading to hell. Yet grasping that hand was her current situation.
Daphne took Astaire’s hand.
Squeeze—she deliberately put strength into her hand gripping his.
Then Astaire looked at her and smirked. Like she was doing something amusing.
“Don’t be like this.”
He said quietly.
“We’re more intimate than this.”
“Not anymore.”
“We still are, for now.”
Daphne quietly bit her lip. When he offered his arm, she reluctantly linked arms with him, seeming to have no choice. The man firmly locked their arms so she couldn’t escape somehow.
“Let’s go.”
* * *
The carriage swayed irregularly, cutting through the quiet dawn. Occasionally when the wheels hit stones the carriage jolted a bit, but not severely.
Astaire and Daphne sat motionless like statues, each lost in their own thoughts. Then suddenly Astaire’s gaze reached Daphne sitting across from him.
“I’m rather concerned.”
“About what?”
“Can you do well today, Daphne?”
His voice sounded strangely like soothing a child, making Daphne frown. She quietly raised an eyebrow as though asking what he meant.
“Can you and I act well like a loving couple?”
Ah, come to think of it, not yet.
She still had to continue that damned act.
As Astaire said, they were still married.
Since they hadn’t received the Emperor’s approval signature on the divorce papers, they were still husband and wife under heaven.
“Don’t worry, honey.”
Daphne deliberately emphasized the word “honey.” Astaire chuckled, finding her cute.
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bluemoon238
The letter telling her to be happy upset him… so he is very aware being with him is upsetting huh? FL should make it unbenefitial when out and maybe he’ll cave in. Shame the Ducal House to the point where keeping her is a bane instead of a boon. Being passive isn’t going to work with the douche.