Chapter 39
“Does your head still ache? You’ll soon have to appear before Her Majesty the Empress, yet you’re still suffering from a hangover… oh dear…”
Lady Monte spoke with a fretful expression. Cecilia simply shook her head briefly, signaling she was fine.
“I’m all right now. Truly… I didn’t do anything disgraceful last night, did I?”
In response to Cecilia’s question, Lady Monte nodded reassuringly.
“Then that’s good. As long as I didn’t show His Highness an unsightly side of me.”
At Cecilia’s remark, Lady Monte gave a slightly mischievous smile. Rather than explain further, Cecilia turned her gaze to the view beyond the carriage window as they passed through the palace gates.
Though she wished to rest after the conclusion of the trial for the House of Nova, she had come to the palace the very next day due to an invitation from the Empress for tea.
In social circles, power was typically wielded by members of the Imperial Family or the Emperor’s consort. Given that the Emperor had no concubine, the Empress reigned supreme over society in both name and reality. This remained true regardless of the cold distance between her and the Emperor.
“Welcome, Cecilia.”
The Empress greeted her with a warm smile. Cecilia bowed gracefully and then took a seat beside Crown Princess Isabella, who welcomed her kindly.
“It’s been a while, Cecilia. I received the gift you sent through His Highness the Crown Prince—it was lovely.”
Isabella welcomed her with genuine warmth. Inside the palace, Isabella could count only Aster as an ally, and though her husband was kind, he was constantly busy. How could she not be pleased to receive Cecilia’s favor?
“It was nothing special. I’m just glad you liked it.”
Cecilia responded with a gentle smile, and one bloomed across Isabella’s face as well. Since Aster and Eden got along well, there was no reason for their wives to harbor ill will toward each other.
While Cecilia and Isabella conversed, the Empress—the host of the tea—welcomed the arriving guests. As it was a gathering personally arranged by the Empress, the assembly was quite distinguished.
“It is an honor to have received an invitation from Her Majesty.”
“Coming from the Duchess of Somerset, who could make the birds of Wyatt fall from the sky, that seems a little out of character.”
Siena, Countess Casper, the Duchess of Somerset, and the Marchioness of Clinton—renowned figures of Wyatt’s high society—had all gathered.
“It has been a while, Your Grace the Grand Duchess.”
“It has indeed, Duchess of Somerset, Marchioness Clinton.”
Cecilia greeted them with sincerity, as it was only the second time they had met since the unfortunate incident.
“And Countess Casper as well.”
She did not forget Countess Casper. The countess, who had looked slightly anxious as if afraid Cecilia might have forgotten her, now smiled with visible relief.
“This is the first time I’ve seen Your Grace since the wedding.”
“I’ve been preoccupied with many matters and failed to properly attend to you. I apologize.”
Cecilia offered a regretful apology. Countess Casper hurriedly shook her head, denying any offense.
“Oh! Lady Jackinson!”
At that moment, the Empress rose to her feet and warmly greeted a new arrival—Baroness Jackinson, a noble from the vassal family of Earl Oberon, the Empress’s natal household.
“Welcome. I’ve told you to visit often, yet you only appear during events like these. How disappointing.”
“Your Majesty is always so busy. As your servant, I couldn’t possibly interfere with your official duties.”
Baroness Jackinson responded with polished flattery, while making no attempt to hide her close relationship with the Empress.
“This is why I like Lady Jackinson. Please, take a seat.”
The Empress smiled and praised her.
“You honor me with your words.”
Baroness Jackinson returned the smile and took her place. Cecilia responded to her with a polite nod.
“Today feels particularly special. As you all know, Grand Duchess Burnett is attending for the first time as a new member of the Imperial Family.”
The Empress turned her gaze to Cecilia briefly as she spoke. This gathering was in part to welcome Cecilia into the Imperial fold.
“I am but a humble person, yet I ask for your kind guidance.”
At Cecilia’s modest words, the noble ladies chuckled softly.
“Anyone who could host His Grace’s birthday celebration so splendidly is far from ordinary. You’re far too modest.”
The Duchess of Somerset encouraged her warmly, her tone entirely free of reproach.
“I caused great offense to both the Somerset and Clinton households due to a serious mistake. While this may not be proper, I would like to take this opportunity to apologize once again.”
Nevertheless, Cecilia brought up the past matter again and expressed her remorse in front of everyone. The Duchess of Somerset and the Marchioness of Clinton, who had already been invited to dine at the Grand Duchy, shook their heads.
“We’ve told you numerous times that you need not apologize, Your Grace. If you continue to do so, it makes us uncomfortable.”
“Indeed. Besides, it wasn’t Your Grace’s fault—it was the maid’s. We fully understand.”
Cecilia offered an awkward yet sincere smile. Her apology came from the heart, though it wasn’t her sole intention.
“As her mistress, the fault is mine for failing to manage her properly.”
She was steering the conversation back to Illina.
As expected, Siena clicked her tongue.
“Your Grace, the only wrong you did was placing trust in a vassal house that betrayed the House of Rain.”
Everyone nodded solemnly. Just the previous day, the trial for the House of Nova had concluded, and word of their downfall had spread.
“Shameless beyond belief. Betraying a ducal house, and then pushing his daughter into your service as a maid?”
Perhaps because she had attended the trial, Siena was indignant, as though the matter concerned her personally.
“But the sin belongs to Count Nova and his son. Illina did nothing wrong. How could she have known?”
Cecilia’s voice held a note of pity as she spoke on Illina’s behalf, and Siena, for a moment, was left without a response.
“That woman too…”
Siena, however, didn’t quite see Illina, who had lost everything because of her family’s disgrace, as someone truly to be pitied. After all, rumors had long circulated that Illina was a brazen girl who had climbed atop the sleeping Duke of Rain.
“Siena.”
Of course, she couldn’t continue. Cecilia had already asked her not to speak of that matter again.
“She’ll be treated like a kite with a cut string, drifting aimlessly, all because of her family’s downfall. She’ll hardly find a marriage, let alone any stability. Yes, she is pitiable.”
Countess Casper agreed with Cecilia’s sentiment. Since Cecilia had become the Grand Duchess, they hadn’t had many interactions, and the countess seemed eager to make an impression however she could.
“Well, that is true…”
“Unless she falls into some fated love—a love of the century—who would take her into their house out of mere pity?”
Marchioness Clinton also agreed. The Empress, disinterested in the affairs of House Nova, wore a bored expression, while Lady Jackinson appeared lost in thought.
“I must have darkened the mood with unnecessary worries. Lady Jackinson, have you any good news to share?”
Noticing the Empress’s demeanor, Cecilia smoothly shifted the topic and addressed Lady Jackinson. The woman startled slightly and offered a strained smile.
“Due to my lack of virtue, I’ve yet to bring any happy news. I’m quite embarrassed.”
Lady Jackinson’s eldest son was a fine-looking man, but at nearly thirty, he remained unmarried—a stain on the otherwise distinguished House of Jackinson.
“I’m sure good news will come soon. I’ll look forward to it.”
“My son must make it so, then.”
Lady Jackinson answered gently.
“He is a respectable young man. He’ll surely meet someone worthy.”
As Cecilia said this, she thought of Marlon Jackinson, Lady Jackinson’s eldest son.
“Perhaps it’s because Lady Jackinson’s standards are too high.”
“Not at all, Marchioness Clinton. It’s just that he shows no interest in women whatsoever. I truly wish he’d meet someone—anyone.”
At that time, the truth of his nature was still being carefully concealed by his parents. No one knew who he really was. His secret would only come to light after his parents retired and passed their title down, withdrawing to the countryside.
“They say such people are capable of a love so intense it borders on obsession. Who knows? Perhaps Lady Jackinson’s son is one of them.”
Cecilia tossed the words out like a jest. Lady Jackinson said nothing but slowly rolled her eyes as if deep in thought. It seemed the information about a woman who could be used without moral qualms had given her much to consider.
And at that moment, Cecilia realized something—the current circumstances surrounding Illina were eerily similar to those of Marlon Jackinson’s former wife.
“I wish to divorce Marlon Jackinson.”
A fallen noblewoman, from a criminal family—Marlon’s wife had been a pitiable woman. Deceived by sweet words like “love” and “fate,” she had married Marlon, only to be forced into submission by the House of Jackinson throughout her married life.
“Please, spare me from enduring this humiliation any longer.”
From the start, that unbalanced marriage had been meant to trap her, to keep her from resisting or escaping.
“I can no longer live with him. My husband is a Casanova who preys on married women, a perverted degenerate who becomes aroused by flaunting his affairs in front of me!”
Taking advantage of a lapse in her in-laws’ vigilance, she had fled at dawn and filed for divorce at the Imperial Court.
But tragically, she had lost the case. The Empress had sided with the House of Jackinson. Ordered to return to her marriage, the poor woman chose suicide instead.
“Lady Jackinson?”
Snapped back to the present, Cecilia thought reflexively. Ah. To Lady Jackinson, Illina must seem like a delicacy served on a silver platter.
“……”
Truthfully, Cecilia’s expectations for Illina were simple. She wanted her to suffer a living hell—to fulfill the purpose Cecilia had chosen for her and die after experiencing torment worse than death, caught between a noble birth and a wretched reality.
“Lady Jackinson, Her Grace the Grand Duchess is speaking to you.”
And when Lady Jackinson, who believed rebuilding her house was all that remained, discovered that her husband had only used her—and when even the name of her house was finally reduced to ruin—
“Let her be. She seems lost in thought.”
Ah, what delight that would bring.
To give hope, only to trample it beneath one’s heel—nothing was more cruel. Cecilia had learned that from Eden.
“Forgive me, Your Grace. I’ve been consumed with worry over my son, and I’ve shown my ignorance. I, too, wish Marlon would do something.”
Lady Jackinson replied quickly with an awkward laugh. Cecilia met her gaze and offered her kindest smile yet.
