Chapter 3

“Why is the Duke here at this hour?”

Hermia staggered slightly as Andy tightened her corset strings. Laura, the head maid, seemed hurried as she personally helped put on Hermia’s shoes.

“The Duke personally brought the master here! He’s quite drunk, it seems!”

The Duke brought her father? What on earth was going on?

Hermia stood there in a daze before being propelled outside by Laura’s urgency. As she stepped into the corridor, she noticed a commotion downstairs.

Peering over the railing, she saw people from the Duke’s household standing confrontationally in front of the mansion’s servants. Among them, one figure stood out distinctly.

A man with a notably larger physique than the others towered above those wearing similar uniforms.

His jet-black hair was neatly combed back, and his prominent nose stood out even from above. He stood tall with broad shoulders, exuding a military-like strictness and solidity.

As he sensed her gaze, he lifted his head. Hermia instinctively recognized him.

That man was the famous “Walter Rockford.”

‘No wonder he’s so popular.’

He looked at her with his deep olive-green eyes and slightly tilted his head.

As Hermia admired his strikingly handsome face, she quickly composed herself. He was walking towards the stairs now.

Hermia slowly descended the steps while maintaining eye contact with him. When she was just two steps away from the bottom, Walter extended his hand.

‘What a perfect escort.’

She gently placed her hand on top of his gloved one and stood on the same ground as him. As she did so, her head instinctively tilted upward.

Even from her height, it was clear that the shoulder insignia of his military uniform dominated her view.

The man up close was far larger and more robust than she had anticipated; his chest was broad…

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Walter Rockford.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Duke.”

Hermia shook off her admiration and greeted him politely out of habit. Then she had a strange thought about the light touch of his lips on her hand.

‘Should I have taken off my gloves?’

It felt oddly disappointing in a way. Her heart fluttered, and her toes curled for no reason.

As she pondered this confusion, Walter met her gaze again.

“I apologize for visiting at such a late hour; I hope you can forgive me.”

Despite exuding masculinity in every way, his voice was calm and composed. Moreover, it carried an innate elegance that felt quite refined.

Just as she unconsciously began to shake her head in response, he continued softly.

“It seems your father has had too much to drink. He brought some friends over to our house.”

Ah. This is bad.

Hermia forced a smile onto her face.

“My father…?”

At Walter’s gesture, a soldier who appeared to be one of his subordinates immediately dashed out through the front door. Moments later, he returned carrying Count Arnold Vansen—the head of the Vansen family—on his back.

The Count seemed so intoxicated that he had dozed off briefly but woke up to slur out words.

“I’m telling you! I’ll soon have a Duke for a son-in-law! Huh? So everyone should invest in me! Invest!”

“Yes, yes. About that southern ranch you own…”

The red-haired soldier carrying the Count responded appropriately as Arnold looked up groggily.

“Who are you again? I told you to go to Rockford’s house! Now the Duke’s castle is almost like our own home!”

“Yes, yes. You did say that. Today you brought eight new friends you just met today.”

“Henry.”

Walter turned to scold the grumbling lieutenant with a serious expression. Henry glanced around before closing his mouth tightly.

‘He has plenty to say but is holding back since this is someone else’s house.’ His expression clearly conveyed that thought.

“I’ve taken everyone else home already. However, I thought it would be rude to leave the Count alone in a carriage.”

Walter explained calmly. It seemed he deemed it inappropriate to send his future father-in-law off alone in a carriage.

That said, he hadn’t shown any mercy by inviting all those unexpected guests into the Duke’s castle at midnight either. Walter Rockford maintained an appropriate boundary while fulfilling his obligations within it.

She didn’t feel disappointed; she merely thought, ‘He’s very much like a soldier.’

There were no emotions discernible from his tone—no irritation or annoyance; nothing of that sort at all.

Hermia bowed her head as she watched Walter report back as if addressing a superior officer.

“I’m sorry.”

She then nodded toward Laura, who along with some male servants received the Count from Walter. The still mumbling Count was led away by the servants toward the bedroom.

It was quite a ruckus happening at a time when everyone else had already gone to bed. The Countess had yet to show herself amidst all this chaos.

She couldn’t have missed hearing about the Duke’s arrival. Hermia could feel Walter’s subordinates casting sidelong glances around the mansion.

Only the servants—including Hermia—knew what was truly happening.

Sure enough, just as expected, the Countess finally made her appearance after everything had settled down—dressed extravagantly as if for an occasion.

“Oh my! Who do we have here?”

The Countess smiled brightly while raising her crimson lips high. Beside her was an elderly butler with graying hair following closely like an attendant.

Gone was the elegant dress she wore at the garden party; instead, she donned a voluminous gown layered with lace frills—a display of opulence.

Her behavior reflected a commitment to adapting attire according to time, place, and company—a noblewoman’s duty fulfilled impeccably.

Only then did Hermia glance down at her own outfit. She was still wearing what she had throughout the day.

Having been outdoors for the party earlier meant there were even traces of grass stains on her skirt’s hem. The thought that Walter must have seen that made her cheeks flush unexpectedly hot.

‘But it’s our first meeting.’

No wait—her first impression might already be ruined.

Imagining her father shouting loudly while lining up carriages in front of the Duke’s residence made her fists clench instinctively.

Count Arnold Vansen acted like any nobleman when sober but would often behave like a street thug once intoxicated. Hermia couldn’t help but think that might be her father’s true nature after all.

“Good evening, Countess Vansen.”

Walter smoothly greeted without blinking once.

Isn’t this what they mean by being born into high society? Even though they hadn’t yet become close acquaintances, there felt like some distance between them already.

By now Hermia wondered if she should change clothes when suddenly the Countess spoke briskly again:

“I’m surprised by your sudden visit; however, if it’s Lord Walter here as our guest, we welcome him anytime! Surely you’ve eaten… Coffee would be too late now; perhaps tea would be better?”

‘The Duke must be more surprised than anyone.’

Hermia turned away from those shamelessly chattering red lips of hers and shook her head slightly.

“Since it’s quite late now, let’s save tea for another time. I’ll visit soon; for now, I must take my leave.”

Walter still wore an impassive expression as he declined politely. Moreover, he seemed eager to leave swiftly as he wrapped up his greetings all in one go.

It was only natural for someone who could easily marry a princess not to linger over tea here tonight.

‘If I were him, I’d run away too.’

Hermia felt a bit foolish for having been so excited to see the handsome man just moments ago.

As he left, the Countess’s servants rushed out to see off the Duke. Reluctantly, Hermia followed Walter at her mother’s insistence, feeling the pressure of gazes from behind, making her back tingle. Walter, walking beside her, slowed his pace to match hers.

“……”

“……”

What should she say? Her mind raced with thoughts.

You must be having a hard time because of the will. I extend my sincere condolences.

Still, let’s get married. You’ll gain an inheritance, and I’ll gain my freedom; it’s clearly beneficial for both of us.

I promise I’ll let you go without any regrets after a year.”

However, could you spare just a little alimony? I really don’t want to live in a convent.

You have plenty of money, so it won’t even be noticeable to you.

If cash isn’t possible, then perhaps a small house in the countryside…

“Thank you for your late-night visit. Well then.”

‘Damn it. We’re already here.’

Before she knew it, they stood in front of the carriage emblazoned with the Duke’s crest. Walter bowed formally one last time before turning away.

• Grumble

A sudden croaking sound broke through the garden filled with the chirping of insects. Hermia instinctively wrapped her arms around her flat stomach.

“Oh ho ho! My dear has been trying to lose weight lately!”

The Countess rushed over and grabbed Hermia by the shoulders.

“She’s been skipping meals just to look good for the Duke. It’s truly upsetting.”

“……”

The Countess hurriedly pushed Hermia aside. In the midst of the maids, Hermia heard the sound of the carriage door opening.

Then she heard the reins slicing through the air as the horses began to move. Soldiers mounted on horses lined up behind the massive four-wheeled carriage and rode off into the distance.

“What a chaotic scene.”

Once they confirmed that everyone had left, the Countess placed a hand on her forehead.

“Honestly, Arnold! How could he do this!”

The Countess finally expressed her anger and walked away briskly.

“What are you wearing? The Duke came to visit, and you’re not dressed properly!”

Hermia immediately looked around for Laura with an aggrieved expression. However, Laura merely turned her head away and stared into the distance.

“…I’m sorry.”

This was always how it went. Quickly resigning herself and apologizing was usually the best way to avoid further scolding.

“Please don’t waste my time and effort in accepting and teaching you. You should think about repaying me by marrying into a good family.”

Fortunately, it seemed that the Countess wasn’t in an entirely foul mood. She likely considered it an achievement that the Duke had visited personally.

It would have been better if he had come when there were more people around. Complaining softly, she walked away with Laura trailing behind her, who nodded in agreement while glancing back.

‘You don’t have to be so cautious; my mother probably won’t listen to me anyway.’

As Hermia forced a hollow smile, Laura’s steps became lighter.

Just as they entered the mansion slowly and lethargically, a figure hiding behind a pillar vanished as soon as it spotted her.

Catching a glimpse of bright brown hair for just a moment, Hermia dashed forward like lightning.

“Mel!”

As Hermia grabbed Mel Greenwood’s arm and turned her around, she froze in place.

“Why… are you crying?”