A greedy Duchess of Stroud.
Or a shameless woman obsessed with money.

Those were the other names people had for me.

Though I worked more relentlessly than anyone else for the sake of the territory, all the results were recorded under my husband, the Duke of Stroud’s name. That was the misfortune that bred such rumors.

“A pampered noblewoman who does nothing but squander the money handed to her.”

Such misunderstandings stung and left me resentful, yet if it meant Stroud would prosper, I could endure it. I had borne the cutting glares and harsh whispers with a single goal: to one day pass the lordship down in full to my child.

At least, I had—until she appeared.

⬤ ⬤ ⬤ ⬤ ⬤ ⬤

The Duchy of Stroud boasted the most beautiful port in the Empire and enjoyed abundance thanks to thriving maritime trade. That prosperity meant the territory was also busy, with work never-ending. On top of that, I had to prepare for Jaive’s first birthday party, just two months away, and decide the trade routes and goods for the merchant ships traveling between the Empire and foreign lands.

Those were duties of my husband, the Duke and lord of the territory—yet today, as always, he pushed the important work onto me.

The choices were mine.
The responsibility was mine.

If things went well, it was to the lord’s credit. If they went poorly, the fault lay with me, for being “lacking.”

I couldn’t hold the Emperor accountable for forcing this marriage, meant only to bind his illegitimate son to the wealthy Count of Pardia. Nor could I fault my father, whose unwavering loyalty to the Crown kept him from ever opposing it.

Many young noblewomen married for the sake of their houses. I was merely living as they did.

In that life, bound by duty, there was but one blessing the God of Life had granted me.

“I missed you, Jaive.”

Those tiny, plump fingers and arms as soft as fresh cheese were the only vivid color in a life otherwise painted entirely in shades of gray.

My sweet baby, who could now stand and even sit alone with ease.

Just moments ago, I didn’t have the strength to lift my son. But with Jaive’s warm little body in my arms and his beaming smile turned towards me, I could feel life rushing back through my veins.

“Your Grace, the young master took two steps today.”

“Truly?”

At the excited report from the nanny, I set Jaive down on the floor.

He wobbled, hips swaying, legs trembling as he took a step forward.

“My goodness…”

It was only two steps, yet watching my baby come toward me felt as if I had gained the whole world.

‘If he’s already at this level, perhaps he could walk with me, hand in hand, at the party?’

The thought alone brought a smile to my face before I realised it. I was truly happy because of Jaive. My greatest joy was imagining him as the future Lord of Stroud, ruling the territory.

It was this vision that enabled me to endure the troublesome work my husband assigned to me and the constant scolding from my mother-in-law, who seemed determined to make my life difficult.

As long as I had Jaive—
As long as this child grew up healthy.

⬤ ⬤ ⬤ ⬤ ⬤ ⬤

After drawing strength from seeing Jaive, I finished the day’s schedule with the knights and returned to my office.

On my desk lay the workload that had piled up overnight, along with documents left by Baron Christie, my husband’s aide.

I hadn’t been to the dining hall yet because I had been on my feet since waking up. I therefore asked for bread and milk to be set aside in advance for a light meal.

I was just tapping my tired legs with my fist, ready to take my first bite, when—

“What is the meaning of this?”

Madam Rosé burst into the office, flinging the door wide. My husband’s mother—and the Emperor’s mistress—she was a woman who, even at the far edge of middle age, still boasted beauty and flawless skin.

“What is it, Mother?”

Setting down the bread I had been about to eat, I let out a sigh. I hadn’t even heard the matter yet, and already my head was beginning to throb.

“That jeweler I called the other day refuses to come, saying he hasn’t been paid!”

“And why are you asking me about it? You said you’d buy it with the allowance you receive for maintaining your dignity.”

Madam Rosé’s expression twisted with fury, the wrinkles time had left on her face deepening sharply before smoothing again.

“Do you have any idea how many society parties I attend? It’s all for the sake of the family, and yet you won’t even buy me a single little piece of jewelry?”

“Do you realize that last month, because I had to cover the cost of a dress you postponed paying for, the servants’ wages were delayed by an entire week?”

She shook with rage and shouted,

“The House of Stroud is not some impoverished family that can’t afford a single dress for me!”

“It isn’t one dress—that’s the problem.”

“How dare you talk back to me when I’m speaking?”

Overcome with anger, Madam Rosé strode closer and slammed her hands down on the desk. The impact knocked over a cup, sending milk dripping onto the floor.

“This is why it’s important to select the right kind of woman for the job!”

She covered her face with both hands and began to sob.

“Before you came, this never happened. Do you have any idea how miserable I’ve become since you arrived? Do you know what people at the society parties call me?”

I listened to Madam Rosé in silence.

“You don’t know because you hardly attend social gatherings. With this measly little allowance for maintaining my dignity, I can barely afford a single dress.”

“That’s because you pay extra to have it made at the Imperial’s exclusive dressmaker. There are other respectable ateliers—”

“I have only ever worn dresses made there!”

Then came a string of unpleasant tirades about how much she had been loved during her years as the Emperor’s mistress and how I could never understand the pain of sacrificing her youth to secure her position as Duchess of Stroud. She wept openly.

I signaled to the maids, who were eyeing the spilled milk with uneasy glances, to leave. They slipped out just as Raian stepped into the office, likely drawn by the commotion.

“That’s enough, Mother.”

He was my husband, though it was rare to see his face. Our marriage had never been for love; it was arranged for the benefit of the Imperial family and the Duke of Stroud. We were closer to strangers than spouses.

The Duke and Duchess of Stroud were the very image of a noble couple bound by political alliance—keeping a polite distance, each living separate lives.

“Madam, pay the jeweler’s overdue bill from my account.”

“Very well.”

At that, Madam Rosé lowered her hands from her face and broke into a bright smile—an expression dripping with material greed.

Raian then turned to me with a hardened face.

“A noble ought to indulge in luxury. And there is your mother-in-law’s social standing to consider.”

The words Do you even know how much your mother spends in a month? burned at the back of my throat. A solid ball of fire lodged itself in my chest—so hot I could hardly bear it.

“One’s social standing should be maintained in proportion to one’s means.”

“Isn’t it all for the sake of the family?”

There was tension in Raian’s eyes, as though he were struggling to rein in the irritation welling up inside him.

“If it’s truly for the sake of the family, then perhaps you could tell your mother to start by changing her dressmaker.”

It was always the same—his mother was to be pitied, and every last thing she did was framed as being for the family’s sake.

“No wonder the nickname going around isn’t baseless. If you’re mad about money, you’re utterly mad.”

Madam Rosé clicked her tongue and frowned; she had heard every word of our exchange. It wasn’t the first time, and by now I could easily let such criticism slide.

When it became clear that our exchange of barbs would not end anytime soon, Raian was the first to ask Madam Rosé to excuse herself. Perhaps thinking of the jewellery bill that her son had paid for, she left the office without protest.

I took several deep breaths, but the fire in my chest still refused to die down.

“Do you have something more to say to me?”

He was a man whose face rarely betrayed emotion, so it was hard to read his mood. Only his eyes were tense, brimming with restrained force.

“A royal decree arrived, and I came to deliver it. I read it first, of course.”

I had thought he had come because of the commotion Madam Rosé had caused—but it seemed there was another reason.

Breaking the seal on the gold-dusted envelope, I unfolded its contents. It stated that a minor skirmish with the barbarians near the border had escalated into a full-scale war, and the Imperial family would be sending reinforcements.

“Once you’ve read it, prepare a list of our house’s knights who will depart with the Imperial Order as soon as possible.”

“That’s something you could do yourself, isn’t it?”

A faint crease appeared between Raian’s brows—the look he wore when displeased or annoyed.

“Either way, your approval will be required, and you’ll have to manage the bounty as well. Rather than passing the work back and forth, it’s better for you to handle it yourself. Besides—” his words sharpened “—you’re better at it than I am.”

I ignored the hidden barb in that remark. From the start of our marriage, he had made a habit of saying ‘You’re better at it’, and I had long recognised it as a veiled insult stemming from envy, or perhaps a sense of inferiority.

My gaze fell to the overturned cup of milk.

Spilled onto the floor, no longer fit to drink—it reminded me uncomfortably of my own life in this mansion, and my chest burned hotter.

“And this is something I learned personally—it might even be good news for you.”

“What good news could there possibly be for me?”

“My elder brother will be coming as the Imperial representative.”

Barnes Hilbardo was second in line to the throne after the crown prince. As a legitimate imperial heir, his bloodline was the very embodiment of what made Raian, the son of a royal mistress, feel insecure. Barnes was also my childhood friend and was like an older brother to me.

“Your former lover is coming. Isn’t that good news?”

“It was nothing more than an exchange ordered by His Majesty when I was very young.”

When I replied flatly, Raian’s lips twisted into a crooked smile.

“Well, we’ll see when the prince arrives next month.”

The smirk vanished as quickly as it had come. He reminded me once more to prepare the list of knights, then turned and left with a cold air.

My appetite was gone completely.