Chapter 1.9

After a brief silence, Valentine gestured to the maids.  

“…Leave us.”  

The maids quickly bowed their heads and retreated to the walls, clearly afraid of getting caught in the crossfire.  

Valentine slowly turned to face Liz.  

“That’s quite a clever decision. I commend you for it.”  

It was undoubtedly praise for Liz’s decision to act as Isabel.  

Indeed, his expression showed clear satisfaction.  

“If you run away to Myra now, you’ll be dismissed immediately. No noble who attended today’s wedding would hire you.”  

Liz bit her lip and stared at him. His words were undeniably true.  

“But I want to hire you as the Duchess of Winchester. What do you think?”  

Liz flinched at his words.  

She suddenly recalled what she had once said to Isabel.  

“Every woman in the kingdom would want to marry His Grace, the Duke of Winchester.” 

Liz lowered her head.  

The bright blue shoes on her feet sparkled beautifully.  

Shoes that any woman in the kingdom would have wanted to wear—was she truly allowed to wear them?  

“I….”  

Valentine smiled faintly.  

“Good. Think of this banquet as your probationary period. Once it’s over, you may do as you wish. Also.”  

Valentine leaned down, his lips brushing close to Liz’s ear.  

Though nothing touched her, her ear tingled.  

“If ….”  

His low voice resonated through her body, starting from her ear.  

Liz’s lips quivered slightly.  

“At that time, you may leave the banquet hall immediately.”

Valentine straightened himself and asked,  

“What do you say?”

Liz, after thinking for a moment, nodded.  

“…Yes. I’ll do it.”  

Valentine’s lips curved upward in satisfaction.  

“Then, I’ll see you at the banquet.”  

“No.”  

Valentine shook his head.  

“I’ll come to escort you in thirty minutes, Madame.”  

Valentine naturally kissed the back of Liz’s hand before leaving the room.  

Liz, her tension releasing, collapsed into the chair.  

The maids around her cautiously approached.  

“Miss, shall we bring the evening dress now?”  

“Yes, get it ready…. No, please prepare it for me.”  

Liz let out a long sigh and closed her eyes.  

For some reason, the sweet scent she’d felt in that attic kept tickling her nose.  

***

“What on earth is going on?”  

“Exactly. Has Count Myra said anything?”  

“Don’t even mention it. He’s been smiling, but… it’s not really a smile.”  

“So, does that mean even the Count didn’t know?”  

The banquet hall was ablaze with quiet curiosity.  

At the ceremony, no one dared speak under the watchful eyes of Valentine Winchester, but now it was different.  

The sole topic of interest among the guests at the reception was today’s new bride: the Duchess of Winchester.  

Some speculated that she was Count Myra’s illegitimate daughter.  

Others argued that she was indeed Isabel, and that people had simply mistaken her.  

Various guesses floated around, carried quietly along with glasses of champagne.  

At one table, however, a conversation was unfolding that came close to the truth.  

“She’s the seamstress from Avril’s boutique, I’m telling you!”  

“Yes, yes, that’s it. I remember her picking out my fichu with such good taste.”  

“No, I’m certain I saw her serving drinks at Count Myra’s cocktail party….”  

“So, she’s definitely not a noble?”  

“Of course not! Just look at the way she walks—it’s utterly vulgar.”  

“Well, yes, that’s true.”  

“But still, when I saw her up close, I thought some kind of nymph had appeared!”  

“Yes, it’s just her makeup that’s off. And her, uh, figure….”  

A few male nobles at the table cleared their throats awkwardly and took sips of their drinks.  

“Um, everyone….”  

At that moment, a man with a gentle and soft demeanor spoke up.  

All eyes turned to him—Theodore, as he was called.  

“What is it, Theodore?”  

“Yes, Theo, don’t you have anything to share?”  

Theodore hesitated briefly before shaking his head.  

“No, I just need to step outside for some air. I think I’ve had too much to drink.”  

With polite words, Theodore excused himself from the table.  

The others shrugged and resumed their chatter.  

***

“…Yes, son.”  

On the second floor of the grand hall where the wedding had taken place, a middle-aged woman in a wheelchair stammered.  

“Yes, that’s right.”  

And the one smiling warmly at her words was, surprisingly, Valentine Winchester, the Duke himself.  

Kneeling before the wheelchair, Valentine gently brushed back the hair of his mother, the Matron of Winchester.  

Her dry lips moved faintly.  

“Th… ank… you.”  

Valentine’s expression softened.  

Since ‘the accident,’ it had been rare for his mother to express herself this clearly.  

‘Even a rushed wedding like this turned out to be a blessing.’  

Valentine smiled wryly but spoke in a gentle tone.  

“I’m glad you’re happy… Mother?”  

His expression stiffened. His mother’s hand trembled violently.  

Her body twisted painfully in the wheelchair.  

“Ah! Oh dear, no, run, don’t… don’t!”

Her breathing turned into frantic gasps mixed with cries.  

Valentine calmly covered her mouth with a handkerchief.  

Her erratic breaths steadied as she inhaled deeply, and her spasms subsided.  

Valentine skillfully administered a sedative to her arm.  

Soon, her convulsions eased, and she slowly closed her eyes.  

Valentine spoke softly.  

“Please take care of her.”  

At his words, a team of medical staff who had been waiting nearby approached.  

They bowed to Valentine before escorting his mother away.  

Valentine watched them leave before letting out a long sigh and stepping onto the terrace.  

From the terrace, Valentine gazed down at the outdoor banquet hall.  

Under the vibrant green trees, tiny doll-like figures laughed, chatted, and clinked their glasses.  

In a typical wedding, the parents of the couple would lead the banquet until the main stars made their appearance.  

But in this case, neither Count Myra—who was still reeling from shock—nor the late Duke and Duchess of Winchester were present.  

Yet, no one found this strange.  

Everyone in Holt Kingdom knew that the late Duke of Winchester had been murdered before Valentine was born, and that his mother had been bedridden after the trauma of giving birth to him.  

Valentine sighed deeply.  

Even when he had come of age and ascended to the dukedom, his mother had silently shed tears.  

For her to break her long silence and express joy for the first time was at his wedding.  

If not for his mother, he would never have agreed to this hasty plan of staging a wedding with a stand-in.  

But.  

“A-as your wife, I have a request, my dear….”  

At those words, an inexplicable emotion had pierced his heart.  

A strange mix of relief and peace.  

It wasn’t just for his mother.  

For some reason, he felt a surprising sense of satisfaction, as if this choice wasn’t so bad after all.  

However.  

That maid had dared to speak of an end.  

Arrogantly.  

Valentine let out a hollow laugh.  

The end of any relationship was always his decision to make.  

He had thought she would simply play her role, yet she was already contemplating an escape.  

So, impulsively, as if to sever her retreat, he had lifted the veil.  

And when he recalled the desperate gaze that had looked only at him, he couldn’t help but smile.  

Moreover, she was clearly wavering.  

As the thought crossed his mind, his grip on the terrace railing tightened unconsciously.  

Just then.  

“Um… Your Grace.”  

Valentine turned his head.  

Standing there was Liz, dressed in a white gown that bared her shoulders.  

For a moment, Valentine caught his breath.  

The softly flowing dress, not overly extravagant, looked far more comfortable than before.  

A sparkling sapphire necklace concealed her thin neck.  

Her subtly applied makeup suited her well.  

But what captivated him most were her lightly tinted, peach-colored lips.  

He found himself staring at her lips, mesmerized.  

Unlike during the wedding, they didn’t seem to carry any bitterness.  

They looked like they would taste sweet if bitten.  

Unconsciously, he swallowed hard.  

A sharp pain in his fingers brought him back to his senses.  

Valentine glanced down at his hand.  

His fingers were gripping the railing so tightly it seemed as though he might crush it.  

‘…What am I thinking?’  

Frowning, he released his hold on the railing.  

He spoke in a calm, detached tone.  

“Didn’t I say I would come to escort you?”  

“I thought you might be waiting because of me….”  

“Waiting? I simply wanted to rest for a moment as well.”  

“Oh….”  

Understanding his words, Liz smiled faintly.  

Her pink lips parted, revealing her white teeth.  

For a brief moment, Valentine stopped breathing.  

His head spun, and his stomach churned again.  

‘She smiles far too easily.’  

Valentine’s gaze wavered slightly.  

Though he disliked it, he could understand her easy smile, at least when they were alone.  

After all, this woman was Isabel, and Isabel was his wife.  

So, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to make her smile a little more.  

Shrugging, he made a lighthearted remark.  

“If it were truly urgent, I could have dressed another maid and sent her out. It wouldn’t have been much of a problem.”

Contrary to his expectations, Liz’s expression twisted.  

The smile that had bloomed like petals vanished, leaving her face looking pitiful, like a rain-soaked weed.  

“…It was a joke.”  

It seemed his wife did not enjoy jokes.  

Valentine decided to extend the courtesy befitting a noble.  

“You are the only maid who could become such a beautiful Isabel.”  

Even his compliment failed to ease Liz’s expression.  

Instead, she let out a deep sigh and asked,  

“You’ll truly keep your promise, right?”  

“Of course.”  

Liz’s crumpled face finally relaxed a little.  

Just a bit more.  

For some reason, Valentine added quickly,  

“To be precise, you will not leave the banquet hall alone. If ‘that incident’ occurs, I will immediately end the banquet.”  

Liz’s lips curved upward at his words.