How much time had passed?

At some point, Curtis had completely cut off the troublesome thoughts that clung to him like a snake biting its tail.

His thoughts had returned to the basic question of whether he needed to find a reason for her change.

The answer was no.

Dalia Fraser’s heart belonged to her alone, and any storms that might arise within it had nothing to do with him.

Who would care about the emotions or changes in the thoughts of another?

There was no need for such useless thoughts. As Curtis put Dalia out of his mind, a knock came, as if part of a pre-arranged plan.

“Your Grace, it is time for the meeting.”

At the polite voice of his aide, Curtis opened the door and stepped out. He hadn’t realised until then how much time he had spent concentrating on Dalia, time that was far too long to dismiss as mere useless thoughts.

***

“Duchess, it’s an honour to have you here.”
“Countess Lapir.”

Dalia casually brushed aside the Countess’s flattery, mixed with admiration for the Duchess of Fraser, and took her seat in the highest position reserved for her.

Her demeanour was so elegant and natural that those who had been eagerly searching for any fault since her arrival swallowed their words.

Dalia quickly picked up on their expressions and savoured the satisfaction. She didn’t like social gatherings, nor was she interested in building power there, but she wasn’t stupid.

The training she had received from Gruy was harder than most people knew. The people gathered there were close associates of Countess Rapir, which meant they were trained to speak casually, with a “whatever” attitude.

The rumour she wanted to spread was that she was a duchess who loved her duke dearly, not a duchess who was laughed at by everyone.

Isn’t it enough to laugh at yourself for coming back from the dead?

Besides, when it came up in other people’s conversations, it was annoying before, and now it was even more annoying.

In the past, she had tried desperately to avoid situations where someone would blurt out her pathetic unrequited love, but now it had become something she had to do, something she had to succeed at.

Indeed, escaping Curtis was difficult.

Starting with Dalia, as Lady Rapir of the Count’s family took her seat, a subtle tension spread among the noblewomen and unmarried daughters who filled the table.

The Duchess of Fraser, who had rarely appeared at anything other than official functions since joining the Duke of Fraser’s family, was an opportunity not to be missed.

But even if the woman happened to be sitting in the Duchess’s place, she was still Fraser’s wife.

The fact that Dalia had not been close to high society before her marriage added weight to their hesitation.

They were free to mock and tease her, but if they spoke carelessly and hurt someone, they would have to take responsibility.

No one wanted to take on that responsibility, so they quickly came to an unspoken agreement to check things out first.

The first person to speak was none other than a Countess who was the closest confidante of Countess Lapir.

“Mm, hmm. It’s been a while since the Duchess has been out. If it’s not too much trouble, may I ask how you’ve been these last few days?” 

It was a very casual question. To anyone else it would have seemed like a simple greeting with no hidden agenda. 

Those waiting for Dalia to speak weren’t expecting or hoping for any particular answer.

It was just a way to start the conversation. But the answer that came from Dalia’s full red lips was something they had never expected.

“Don’t ask if it’s an imposition.”

No one spoke until the smooth teacup touched her lips, which curved into a subtle smile.

The silence grew so thick that you could even hear the ticking of the clock’s second hand. It wasn’t a joke; it was just an offhand remark, and yet it was met with such a response.

The questioner blinked in confusion, while the quicker ones wondered if their question had been rude, but no one nodded in agreement. In an instant, Dalia silenced them all and, with a steady hand, gently set down her teacup and gracefully surveyed her surroundings.

Without directing her gaze at anyone in particular, she skilfully drew the attention of everyone present. Her eyes, with their delicate lashes, fluttered slightly and the cold green pupils seemed to hide behind the soft curve of her eyelids.

Finally, a smile, much brighter and more radiant than the one she had previously painted on her lips, bloomed like a flower.

“Everything I’ve been doing at the mansion has to do with my husband’s schedule and the affairs of the Duke’s household, so I can’t say about my husband’s every move.”

Though her voice was dry and devoid of emotion, the smile that spread across her face was so like a flower that no one doubted the truth of her words.

One, two, three…

Before Dalia could even finish counting to five in her mind, the mouths that had been sealed tightly, as if glued shut, began to open.

“Ah… oh, yes. Hoho. That’s right.”

“Hohoho! Of course. I apologise if I wanted to ask about the Duke’s every move.”

“My apologies, madam. I went too far.”

As the people around them began to chime in and support the one who had asked, the one who had only begun the greeting also offered a proper apology. Dalia, the most beautiful of them all, wore a smile like a mask, graciously accepting their rudeness and suppressing her satisfaction.

It was forced, but when the Duchess of Fraser said it, it didn’t seem forced at all. Besides, those present were eagerly awaiting the entertaining stories, their eyes gleaming with anticipation.

The Duchess’s work, so intimately connected with the Duke, was solely to attend to his needs.

Ah, how devoted their love must be. And behind closed doors they would probably whisper. Ah, how painfully unrequited their love is.

To claim the man everyone desires, for no particular reason, is exactly what it means.

Even Irvelyn, whom Curtis had desperately longed for and pursued, was the subject of gossip.

“You can’t hide vulgar blood. She’s a bastard. She’s always smiling flirtatiously.”

“She’s got nothing, so she has to do something, right?”

Even a child just learning to open her eyes could see that Irvelyn stood still while those who wanted her were the ones reaching out unilaterally.

Before her regression, when Irvelyn attended such tea times, it was so noisy when Curtis went to fetch her.

The Duke of Curtis Fraser going to fetch a woman in person! The empire was in an uproar.

Dalia, who was at another social gathering that day, didn’t even catch a glimpse of Curtis’s hair.

That night, sadness consumed her more than humiliation, and she cried until her voice cracked, all because Curtis wouldn’t even look at her. 

She didn’t care about the whispers or the gossip. What she felt was like an abandoned animal, howling in agony as she fought to keep her heart from shattering.

There were many reasons why she couldn’t express her pain. She couldn’t blame herself for not receiving the same feelings in return, her pride simply wouldn’t allow it.

She also knew that if she opened up, Curtis would act as if nothing had happened, leaving her without the courage to even try. And there was no one to turn to, no one to confide in. She had friends, but they had drifted away since she became a Fraser.

She was never the type to pour out her troubles to her friends, so it was even harder to talk about them. And of course she couldn’t tell her parents.

She couldn’t tell her parents, especially when they were both worried and happy to send their daughter away on her wedding day. She felt deeply guilty for worrying them with the rumours circulating about her.

Perhaps it would have been better if she had lost her mind and at least confronted Curtis, hurling accusations and insults, just to hold on to some shred of dignity. 

Perhaps it would have been better to find some small satisfaction in subtly tormenting Irvelyn, as others had done. 

But no. She wasn’t like that. 

If she had been, her husband would have killed her much sooner, and much more brutally.