Chapter 1.21

‘How could someone be so….’  

Liz’s grip on her skirt tightened.  

Using her family as leverage to toy with her—how cruel.  

Seeing that smile ignited a spark of defiance in her.  

At the very least, she didn’t want to be treated like a plaything anymore.  

‘If I were truly the Duchess of Winchester, what would I do?’  

Liz paused to imagine.  

The image of a loving Winchester couple came to mind.  

A wife gracefully and sweetly making a small request, and a husband readily granting it.  

Such a picture-perfect moment.  

Liz smiled softly, just as she had envisioned.  

“Please, Dear.”  

Liz bent slightly at the waist.  

Then, her lips brushed against his cheek.  

The skin beneath her lips was so soft, despite the roughness of his stubble, that she almost wanted to linger there.  

‘Get a hold of yourself.’  

Liz quickly pulled back and straightened her posture.  

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling shyly as if embarrassed.  

“Please help the Garrett family, won’t you?”  

Having spoken, Liz carefully observed his expression.  

But contrary to her expectations, Valentine’s face turned an angry shade of red.  

In a low voice, he muttered,  

“…You truly have no idea what it means to make a request.”  

Startled, Liz stammered,  

“D-Did I make a mistake…?”  

I had followed proper etiquette, hadn’t I? Was the kiss too much?  

But hadn’t he done the same to me yesterday?  

Valentine ran a hand over his face several times, as though trying to compose himself, before speaking in a scolding tone.  

“Flaunting your beauty is not how you make a request. Do you think such naive behavior will solve everything?”  

“What? That wasn’t my intention….”  

Liz hastily tried to explain, but Valentine let out a disbelieving laugh.  

“That wasn’t your intention? Then why….”  

Valentine stared at Liz intently before shaking his head.  

“Never mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.”  

His words came out sharp and fast.  

“First of all, you need to properly learn etiquette. And relearn how to make a request.”  

With that, Valentine turned away.  

A shocked Liz grabbed his arm.  

“Your Grace—no, Valentine—what about my, no, my maid’s family…!”  

But Valentine didn’t respond and left the room.  

Clearly furious, he slammed the door shut with a loud bang.  

‘What did I do wrong….’  

Liz bit her lip and stared at the closed door.  

***

Valentine walked briskly after leaving Liz’s room.  

His head spun. His breathing was uneven.  

“Your Grace? Is something the matter?”  

“If you need anything….”  

The concerned voices of the estate staff reached him, but he didn’t respond.  

He had no destination in mind. He just needed to move.  

To escape this turmoil.  

Sometimes, clearing one’s head required physical movement.  

From the start, he had never intended to let Liz’s family end up on the streets.  

To fully utilize Liz, her family also needed to be under his control.  

Through this process, he wanted her to realize that only Winchester could be her salvation.  

The same had been true when he left Liz alone during the wedding reception.  

Although his plan had been thwarted by Russell at the time, this time was different.  

The foolish Liz Garrett had taken the bait he dangled.  

Up until the moment Liz’s lips touched his cheek, he had been smiling.  

But then.  

“Ha….”  

Valentine let out a sigh that sounded more like a groan.  

Before he realized it, he had arrived at the garden.  

The very place where the wedding reception for Liz—Isabel—no, Liz and him had been held.  

The leaves on the trees swayed gently in the breeze.  

Each leaf seemed to reflect a green, smiling gaze.  

How was he supposed to interpret this situation?  

He raised a hand to his face absentmindedly.  

As he rubbed the cheek Liz had kissed, his face grew hot again.  

‘Why.’  

Unkempt lips, a trembling and awkward demeanor.  

What about those things made him lose his composure like this?  

Valentine scrubbed his face so hard it hurt.  

The sensation of raw skin brought him back to his senses, albeit slightly.  

On his fingertips, a faint pink stain lingered.  

It was similar to the color of the lipstick wiped away after the wedding ceremony, but it seemed a bit redder.  

Almost as if it had absorbed the color of his flushed face.  

“She claims it wasn’t intentional?”  

Valentine chuckled bitterly to himself.  

Impossible.  

If she hadn’t planned to appear endearing, she wouldn’t have kissed him with such an innocent expression.  

If she hadn’t intended to act charming, she wouldn’t have tucked her hair behind her ear to reveal her delicate little ear.  

Yes. Impossible.  

“…Pretending to be coy.”  

Valentine pulled off his gloves and threw them to the ground.  

The pristine white gloves rolled across the grass.  

Yes, it was blatant flattery.  

Feigning innocence, shedding crocodile tears, smiling sweetly to get what she wanted.  

She was no different from others who sought to curry favor with him.  

That was certain.  

“Your Grace, about today’s schedule….”  

“I’m going to the Holt border region.”  

Valentine’s response was curt.  

It wasn’t until after he spoke that he realized the person addressing him was his attendant, Viscount Gerald.  

“My apologies, Your Grace, but there’s nothing scheduled for you at the border region today…. Ah.”  

Gerald, who had been speaking cautiously, suddenly stopped as if he had realized something.  

“I understand. I’ll prepare the carriage.”  

Gerald’s faint smile didn’t escape Valentine’s notice, though he chose to ignore it.  

***

The security guard at Myra Bank, Finley Garrett, was a man who found some satisfaction in his work.  

His art supply store had gone bankrupt, his wife had fallen ill, and his son had left home.  

At first glance, his life seemed riddled with misfortune.  

Even so, he considered himself relatively lucky.  

Thanks to his daughter, who had become a maid in a noble household, he had been able to send his wife to a care facility and secure a job himself.  

Initially, he had opposed his daughter becoming a maid.  

He had worried she might end up working for cruel nobles.  

There were also rumors that pretty young maids were sometimes mistreated in noble households.  

And his daughter was the most beautiful girl in the world to him. How could he not worry?  

“Don’t worry, Dad. They all treat me very well. The young lady is kind and gentle. Otherwise, would they have even let you work here?”  

Fortunately, his daughter assured him that the nobles she worked for were kind.  

It seemed that the heavens had blessed his good-hearted daughter.  

So, he worked diligently, always holding onto the dream that one day his family could live together under one roof again.  

That was, until the devastating news arrived during his shift.  

“My daughter would never do such a thing! Liz would never steal Miss Isabel’s jewels and run away….”  

“I’m just telling you what I’ve heard. Starting today, don’t come to work.”  

“Please, speak to the Count on my behalf! You know my daughter well, don’t you?”  

“Take Greta out of the care facility by the end of the week. This is a special concession…. Hey, let go of me!”  

“This can’t be….”  

Finley sat in a daze, muttering to himself.  

In the cramped one-room space, a small family photo sat in the most visible spot.  

He stared at the smiling faces of his wife, son, and daughter.  

The frail wife and the talented son were both precious to him.  

But the one who hurt him the most was his daughter.  

Because her mother was weak, because her brother drew better pictures, because her father was busy working—  

The daughter always yielded her share for such reasons.  

When her brother broke a colored pencil while sketching boldly, the daughter picked up the broken half and drew on the back of a bread bag.  

When her mother struggled to finish the lace she needed to deliver, the daughter would put aside even the bread bag to help with the work.  

She was that kind of child.  

Even when they gifted her a new set of brushes and colored pencils—not for display but for actual use—on her birthday, she acted the same way.  

The daughter waved her hands, saying she couldn’t possibly accept them; the son asked for them instead.  

He pushed the son aside and almost forcibly placed the gift in his daughter’s arms.  

The next morning, the daughter was found asleep hugging the brushes and colored pencils.  

How adorable and pitiful she looked!  

Perhaps that’s why.  

More than his sensitive, fragile son and wife, he felt more sorrow for his healthy and spirited daughter.  

Even now, it was the daughter who supported this family the most steadfastly.