Chapter 130

Chapter 130

“And Mother, there’s something important I need to tell you.”

The duke spoke, his gaze fixed on the black smoke. His hand still held me firmly. It seemed he intended to inform the Madam of our engagement. My heart tightening, I clasped my hands together and set them on my knees. I needed to present myself as neatly and properly as possible.

The Madam, as if sensing something, began to fidget and sway restlessly. But I couldn’t tell what it meant. So I turned my eyes to the Book of Souls, waiting only for the sentence she would form.

〈What… is it…?〉

She stretched out her body, shimmering like a heat haze, as she asked him.

“We’re planning to get engaged.”

The duke’s grip on my arm tightened lightly. Startled, the Madam darted about over the Book of Souls. She seemed to have something she wanted to say to us. She circled the edges marked ‘Yes’ and ‘No,’ then shifted with a squirm and hovered above the regions of ‘Good’ and ‘Bad.’

Madam! Please mark ‘Good’!

Eyes wide, I bored my gaze into the Book of Souls. But the Madam made no choice at all—just floated in the air, suspended. Her sluggish response squeezed my heart with an unbearable tension. The thought struck me: maybe she wanted to object, but was delaying her answer because of her son standing right before her.

Of course, we could have held the engagement just between the two of us, but I still wanted her blessing. More than that, I wanted Madam to approve of me. With nerves wound tight, I clenched both hands and bit down hard on my lip. Whatever happened, I had to steel myself to accept her answer.

Whether she sensed my anxiety or not, Madam drifted apart like mist and flowed back like a wave. Then she began to gather herself into a round shape again. Having formed a perfect sphere, she squirmed once more, molding something. The center of the orb slowly caved in, while the edges were smoothed out with grace. And after a moment, a shape they called the symbol of love hung before my eyes.

A heart!

I flung my eyes wide, screaming inside my head. Instead of using the Book of Souls, Madam had chosen a different way to express her opinion. And this—anyone could see it meant permission, without a doubt.

“Thank you, Mother.”

The Duke replied with a light laugh. I, too, quickly bowed my head. I wanted to voice something proper, but strangely, my words wouldn’t come. My heart was so wildly elated, almost beyond control, that it seemed to clamp my mouth shut tight.

After that, Madam stretched long and thin, then receded toward the Duke. She was about to fade away entirely. Having shown herself for quite a while, she must have wanted to rest now.

“Madam!”

At that, I jolted upright and called out to her.

“Well… I mean…”

But the words I wanted to say didn’t come right away.

Thank you for allowing this? I’ll do well? I’ll strive to become a worthy Duchess?

A jumble of thoughts flashed through my mind. But to her, already vanishing, I couldn’t convey all of that. Panic seized me, and my lips parted on their own. The sentence that followed, flowing naturally along the tip of my tongue, was this:

“I swear I’ll help you ascend! I’ll find a way, no matter what!”

At that, Madam flicked the tip of her body, like a cat’s tail, in a sign of acknowledgment. And with that, she completely hid herself from sight. I still couldn’t close my lips, gazing quietly at the spot where she had disappeared.

For a moment, I felt the air in the room shift. The sentence that had burst out unbidden was now echoing back to my ears, giving me time to chew it over. Perhaps that was why. Inwardly, I was forging a resolve. Just like this.

‘Yes, let’s get Madam to ascend no matter what! I’m going to reincarnate our Mother!’

* * *

When I arrived at work, a pile of letter envelopes lay stacked on my desk — a gaudy rainbow of colors, some adorned with tiny flower buds or feathers. In other words, these were definitely not for business purposes.

“What’s all this?”

I picked one of the envelopes and checked the back. There, in the sender field, was the name of a house I didn’t recognize.

Heljen? Did I know a house called Heljen?

No, that couldn’t be right. No matter how hard I racked my brain, ‘Heljen’ rang no bells. Which meant I had no way of guessing the sender’s intent, either.

“Laura, those are invitations for you.”

I was standing there clutching the envelopes in both hands, my brow all knotted up, when the Duke turned to me and spoke. At that, I tore open the letter from Heljen on the spot. Inside was a long, effusive greeting — how lovely the weather was these days, how his family was hale and hearty, and so on — followed by an invitation to a tea party. So it was an invitation, just as he’d said. But that only raised another question.

‘Why on earth would House Heljen invite me?’

I knit my brow again and wracked my brain. Then it hit me: I’d publicly announced that I was going to marry the Duke. Right. That was the only reason a house I’d never even heard of would invite me — trying to curry favor with someone who might become the Duchess.

‘Good grief. Word’s already spread, huh? And the announcement was only yesterday — invitations are already pouring in. The title of the Duke’s fiancée really carries some weight…’

I felt a surge of weariness and shook my head. Then I let my gaze drift down to the bottom of the letter. A neat, pretty cursive read: ‘With affection, Adelia Heljen.’ As I read it, something struck me — the name Adelia felt oddly familiar. But I couldn’t think of any noblewoman I knew by that name. Still, the sense of deja vu I felt right now didn’t seem like a mistake. No, there was definitely something I was *forgetting*.

“Read them, and go wherever you want. You can ignore the ones you don’t want.”

By then, the Duke had added another remark. I replied that I’d think about it, then focused back on the name Adelia.

What is it? Adelia. Who are you, really…?

And then, from the edges of my memory, a voice began to stir. Yes — I’d definitely heard that name spoken at the Crown Prince’s birthday banquet.

*[Well, if one is uneducated, one might not know high-society etiquette.]*

A woman with glossy black hair had said that to me. She was one of a trio who kept trying to torment me — the Three Musketeers. And her words had been echoed with glee by the other two.

How remarkably generous Lady Adelia must be.

Ah! Adelia! So that was her name—the ringleader of the Three Musketeers!

I’d known her face well enough, but never bothered learning her name. Frankly, I’d never seen the need. Now that the truth had clicked into place, I felt equal parts exasperated and angry at her gall. Yet the more I turned it over, the more I pitied her.

Adelia wouldn’t have written this letter by choice. She was in love with the Duke. If I had to guess, she’d taken up the pen under duress—pressured by her house to cozy up to the ducal family, and more specifically, to the Duke’s fiancée.

But that was that, and this was this.

‘No matter how things shake out, I’m not setting foot in your house. I’ll pick my destination from everywhere except yours!’

I tossed the letter from Heljen onto the desk like I was discarding trash. Then I scooped up the whole stack of envelopes with both hands and stepped toward the Duke.

“Your Grace, which house would you recommend I visit? Hmm… I mean, I’d rather avoid any house that’s on bad terms with yours.”

“Let me see them. I’ll take a look.”

At my words, the Duke extended one hand. I promptly handed him the bundle of envelopes. He took the thick stack and began flipping through them like shuffling playing cards.

“Here, this house and this one—cross them off. Hardline aristocrat faction.”

He filtered out a few from the dozen or so envelopes, murmuring as he went. Then, all at once, his hand froze mid-motion.

“What’s wrong, Your Grace?”

Puzzled, I spoke up.

“Here’s something interesting. This house—do you remember it?”

The Duke held up one envelope for me to see. I narrowed my eyes, studying the envelope in his grip. The sender read ‘Auzentes.’

“Wait—this place?!”

Startled, I reached out with both hands and snatched the envelope. Auzentes was the house of the noble the headless ghost had murdered. It seemed my path was already laid out.

“Your Grace, I need to attend this house’s party.”

* * *

After that, my life grew a bit busier. The party hosted by Auzentes was scheduled soon, and I had to drill noble etiquette in the meantime. I already knew the basics well enough, but I wanted to be thorough. Above all, as the Duke’s fiancée, I couldn’t afford a single blemish. Wasn’t it enough ammunition for others that I was a baron’s daughter working as the Duke’s secretary?

“Young lady, remember that constant caution doesn’t equal good manners. Hold yourself with poise—straighten your posture and let your voice carry.”

The butler poured tea into the cup before me, his tone sharp. I snapped my spine straight and gave a small nod. My eagerness to learn had moved him enough to spare his own time teaching me. The trouble was, he was relentless. Until now, I’d never known he was such a zealous instructor.