Chapter 1.19

It had been a delightful amusement, almost too hard to suppress the laughter spilling out.  

Valentine sat on the edge of a chair, a smile on his face.  

He closed his eyes and recalled Liz’s expressions from earlier.  

Her face, contorted in meaningless resistance, the shallow whimpers.  

The soft mucous membrane that spilled sweet saliva when touched in sensitive places.  

Finally, the hands that clung to him desperately…  

“How amusing.”  

Valentine murmured to himself.  

Amusing, and so very amusing.  

Pathetic, insignificant, utterly ridiculous.  

Had he ever laughed this much in his life?  

Indeed, it didn’t matter who the woman was.  

If he declared her Isabel, then she was Isabel.  

If he called her the Duchess of Winchester, then so she would be.  

She would exist as Valentine desired.  

That fact alone made him laugh.  

Just then, a knock sounded at the door.  

“It’s Gerald, Your Grace.”  

“Ah, come in.”  

At Valentine’s permission, his attendant Gerald entered.  

“Did something pleasant happen, Duke?”  

“Pleasant?”  

“Yes, you seem to be smiling.”  

At those words, Valentine paused briefly before shaking his head as if it were nothing.  

“No, just a slightly amusing thought.”  

Gerald nodded lightly and began his report.  

“First, the portrait commission has been canceled, citing Isabel’s health issues as the reason.”  

“Yes, ensure no unnecessary gossip leaks out.”  

In Holt Kingdom, it was customary for newlyweds to commission a portrait for display.  

Winchester had already hired the finest painter in advance.  

But given the current circumstances, leaving behind a portrait was out of the question.  

“Of course. Additionally, as instructed, the coachman has informed Myra of Liz Garrett’s death. He carried an earring found during the search as evidence, and Myra has expressed no suspicion of Winchester’s involvement.”  

“Excellent. Confine the coachman strictly again.”  

Valentine was satisfied.  

This bought him some time before introducing Liz to society.  

Etiquette, speech, posture—all would be meticulously taught to transform Liz into the Duchess of Winchester.  

He could already envision Liz walking across the ballroom.  

When Valentine extended his hand, she would gracefully place hers in his, her emerald-like eyes sparkling beautifully.  

A soft smile naturally graced his lips.  

Gerald cleared his throat lightly.  

“Ahem, Your Grace?”  

“…?”  

Valentine hadn’t even realized he’d been lost in thought.  

Gerald spoke hesitantly.  

“Well… Myra has requested personnel for the search for Isabel Myra. How should we respond?”  

“Express our sincerity. However…”  

Valentine lightly tapped the desk with his fingertips.  

“There’s no need to conduct the search alongside Myra. Assemble an independent search team and report directly to me if any traces are found.”  

“Understood.”  

Gerald nodded.  

But he didn’t leave immediately, lingering instead.  

“Is there anything else unusual?”  

“Well… What about her family?”  

“Family?”  

Valentine asked, puzzled.  

Gerald hesitated before responding.  

“Finley Garrett and Greta Garrett. Liz Garrett’s parents.”  

At those words, Valentine recalled Liz’s earlier request.  

“Count Myra is covering my mother’s medical expenses. My father…”  

“Ah, the guard at Myra Bank.”  

“Correct.”  

Gerald nodded and handed over a file.  

Valentine stroked his chin as he flipped through the documents.  

At the time, he had dismissed her words, but now he realized something didn’t add up.  

‘Covering hospital bills and providing employment for her father, huh.’  

Even now, Liz regarded Myra as a savior despite narrowly escaping death at his hands.  

Valentine had known Myra for quite some time.  

It was hard to believe he was a man capable of such generosity.  

‘Finley Garrett… Bankrupt.’  

Valentine frowned slightly and asked Gerald.  

“Bankrupt commoners and their families are typically denied admission to sanatoriums, correct?”  

Gerald elaborated.  

“Yes. It seems Liz and Finley Garrett were employed under Myra’s sponsorship as a form of guarantee.”  

Greta Garrett was indeed admitted to the sanatorium, as Liz had mentioned.  

“But if you look at the next page, their treatment…”

Gerald trailed off as he spoke. Valentine, flipping through the pages, let out a dry laugh.

‘Of course.’

Valentine finally understood the situation. The employment conditions of the Garrett family were abysmal.  

Despite the bank’s location at the border, the wages were absurdly low, and they were subjected to mandatory overtime they couldn’t refuse.  

Myra had used Greta Garrett’s medical bills as an excuse, but under such terms, it was clear the Garrett family should have been able to cover those costs easily if they were employed fairly.  

What’s more, Liz herself didn’t even seem to realize how unjustly she had been treated.  

Valentine closed the file and asked,  

“So, what has Myra done with the Garretts now?”  

“The situation isn’t good.” 

Gerald sighed, shaking his head.  

“First, Miss Liz Garrett… has officially been dismissed from Myra. It’s been reported that she was caught stealing Miss Isabel’s belongings.”  

“Ha.”  

Valentine’s sarcastic laugh was echoed by Gerald’s sympathetic expression.  

“It seems none of the other employees believe it. It’s clear Miss Isabel acted on a whim, but it’s being kept quiet.”  

“And?”  

“Finley Garrett will likely be dismissed as well. Greta Garrett will surely be evicted from her care facility.”  

“Even if they’re not dismissed, it would still be a problem.”  

“Indeed. They’ve already been treated unfairly as it is.”  

Gerald clicked his tongue.  

For a father to continue working at Myra Bank while his daughter was accused of theft would be like sitting on a bed of thorns.  

And if rumors later spread that his daughter had died, how much worse would it become?  

Gerald, however, looked somewhat relieved as he addressed Valentine.  

“Still, thanks to you, Your Grace, the poor Garrett family…”  

“That’s enough, Viscount Gerald.”  

Valentine cut him off. Gerald, startled, asked cautiously,  

“Are there no further instructions?”  

Valentine nodded.  

“But if left as is, they will…”  

Valentine responded with a faint smile.  

“The parents of a maid have nothing to do with Winchester.”  

Gerald stared at Valentine in shock, but Valentine merely turned his gaze toward the door without another word.  

“…Understood.”  

With that dismissal, Gerald left the room without further protest.  

Left alone, Valentine leaned back leisurely in his chair.  

He had spoken the truth. He didn’t know who Liz Garrett was.  

The treatment of a maid’s family was of no concern to him.  

If Valentine were to help the Garrett family, it would be for one reason alone:  

The earnest plea of his wife, Isabel Winchester.  

Valentine closed his eyes. The thought of his wife brought a smile back to his face.  

***

“Is it true that Liz Garrett is here in place of Miss Isabel?”  

The next morning, the maids, gathered closely in the dining room, whispered among themselves.  

“Yes, yes. Marie said she saw it through the window last night.”  

“Marie’s room overlooks the corridor leading to the bedroom.”  

“I heard the doctor was called as well. She must be injured.”  

“That’s right. His Grace carried her in himself!”  

“No way! That can’t be true!”  

The maids giggled, nudging each other’s shoulders.  

“Does this mean we’ll have to serve Garrett now?”  

“Probably. I dressed her for the wedding day. She cried and made such a fuss.”  

“Why? Shouldn’t she be grateful to stand in as the Duchess?”  

A young apprentice maid cautiously chimed in, and the older maids chuckled.  

“Oh, you’re too young to understand. Before you know it, she’ll…”  

“You lot!”  

Martha suddenly appeared, shouting loudly.  

The startled employees quickly buried their heads in their food, pretending to eat.  

“If you’re done eating, get to work! What nonsense are you all spouting here?”  

One maid sidled up to Martha and slyly suggested,  

“Head Maid, shall I take breakfast to ‘Madam Winchester’ later?”  

The maid exaggeratedly rolled her tongue over the words “Madam Winchester.”  

Martha firmly pushed the maid aside.  

“No need, Jenny. I’ve already delivered it, so don’t bother!”  

“Already?”  

The surprised employees questioned Martha.  

It was still early, a time when the nobility were usually still asleep. Only the staff were awake.  

One maid widened her eyes and exclaimed,  

“Oh, as expected of a veteran!”  

The dining room erupted with laughter. Martha slammed the table with a bang.  

“Quiet, you lot!”  

“That’s right, girls. Madam is Madam.”  

Jenny, siding with Martha, spoke up. Martha glanced at Jenny and nodded.  

“Jenny’s right. Got it?”  

Jenny, though often mischievous, was sharp and quick-witted.  

She had naturally taken on a leadership role among the younger maids.  

“From now on, Jenny, you’ll be in charge of attending to Miss Garrett when I’m not around.”  

“Yes, ma’am.”  

Jenny replied with a bright smile, her protruding front teeth showing like a rabbit’s.  

Martha declared loudly, as if to warn them,  

“Now, take a proper break and get to work. And don’t even think about going near the couple’s bedroom!”  

After Martha left, the other maids glared at Jenny.  

“What was that, Jenny? Trying to act all nice?”  

“Just trying to get on the Head Maid’s good side?”  

“That’s why you lot will never beat me. Did I say anything wrong?”  

Jenny grinned mischievously and continued,  

“Madam is Madam. What, do you think she’s a maid?”  

Her response made the other maids chuckle quietly, careful not to let Martha hear.