Chapter 49 : The Stain Beneath the Velvet Glove
❖ Chapter 49 ❖
The moment my words sliced through the air, the solver’s expression collapsed into astonishment — a fleeting fracture of his composed mask. And in the old woman’s steely eyes, a faint glint of suspicion sparked to life.
“What’s the matter with you, girl?!”
The man leapt forward, the sharpness of his voice betraying unease. But the old woman lifted her hand with unshakable calm, halting his advance without uttering a word. Her gaze cut through the haze like winter glass.
“Tell me,” she said, her tone honed to a blade’s edge. “How did you know I’m searching for commercial goods?”
“You’re not interested in any of the medicinal herbs,” I replied, steady and clear. “People don’t come to this part of the market without reason — unless they’re pharmacists, merchants… or someone seeking a particular service.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, shifting from me to the man. Her interest deepened, her voice low and razor-fine.
“And if you’re not here for trade, there’s no reason to flash this ring to the vendor.”
“Indeed,” the fixer interjected with a smirk, “but I’m curious — why do you think it’s wrong? I happen to find it rather promising.”
“Because it’s dangerous.”
My words fell like a stone into still water. Unflinching. Certain.
“If this substance is distributed widely — if it’s commercialized — it won’t be on the second or third page of the papers. It’ll be front-page scandal. Headline-worthy.”
“If its effects are truly that powerful, then of course,” the man said, almost proudly.
“It is,” I answered.
“Madam,” he turned to the old woman, “we tested it on someone close — someone ill — and they improved almost instantly. It’s derived from plants. No chemicals. No toxins.”
But the moment the old woman’s cold stare met his eyes, his confidence crumbled. His voice died in his throat.
Her attention turned back to me.
“Then speak. Why do you believe it to be dangerous?”
I exhaled slowly. “If this is the pill I think it is, then yes — it numbs pain almost instantly. But it is highly addictive. And the more you take, the more you must take. The body builds a need, a hunger, and soon… it consumes the person from within.”
The old woman’s expression hardened. A silence hung between us, taut with weight.
“Is this the truth?” she asked, voice low and severe. “Not a word of it false?”
“Yes. I can’t recall where I read it, but… it was in a medical journal. Years ago.”
“Hm. Couldn’t it simply resemble what you read?” she asked, her tone sharpening with doubt. “And yet you speak to me so boldly?”
“There’s no harm in caution, is there?”
For a long second, she said nothing. Then something in her demeanor shifted. The lines on her face softened, and the corner of her lips twitched with something that might have been approval.
“If what you say is true, then you’ve saved me from a costly mistake,” she murmured. “It wouldn’t have been commercialized immediately, of course — not without further trials. But still… that would’ve been a tremendous waste of time.”
“Ah…” I exhaled in mild surprise.
“You’ve done me a service today. I’m grateful.”
The old woman reached up and removed her wide hat. Beneath it, silver-white hair was coiled in a neat chignon, as precise and elegant as the woman herself.
“And your name, my dear?”
Just as her tone softened and her curiosity seemed genuine, a familiar warmth fell upon my shoulder — a large, steady hand, followed by a voice that curled like smoke through the marketplace.
“I’ve been looking for you, Madam.”
Johannes.
His presence silenced the world for a moment.
He had said he would find me easily. And yet, here he was — later than expected, and dressed like a shadow of nobility amid the grit of the harbor.
I stepped aside without protest, his hand sliding from my shoulder. He raised a brow at me, his expression unreadable.
Then, as he turned to face the old woman, her brows lifted with astonishment.
“Duke Schultz…?”
A ripple passed between them — old acquaintances, it seemed. A quiet recognition carved from long history and older grudges.
“Have you been well, Old Mrs. Russell?” Johannes asked with polite gravity.
Mrs. Russell.
The name struck me like a pebble in the throat. My posture stiffened instinctively.
Russell — as in Marquess of Böln. The very estate I once considered working for… before I was scolded half to death over the phone.
She studied us both, and then her eyes narrowed with a shift I couldn’t quite read.
“Then this young woman must be…?”
“My wife.”
Johannes moved closer to my side. His tone was calm, but his proximity spoke louder — protective, declarative.
With a slow, respectful motion, he removed his hat and turned to me.
“Madam, this is the Dowager Marchioness of Böln. Old Mrs. Russell.”
“…Ah.”
The sound escaped me before I could control it — a foolish, stunned syllable. My body stiffened again with embarrassment.
I attempted to offer a proper greeting, but the moment I opened my mouth—
“That’s enough.”
Her voice was colder than iron.
The warmth from before had vanished entirely, replaced with a biting chill.
“I see now. The Duke has been… seduced by a pretty face.”
Johannes said nothing, but his jaw tightened.
“I wasn’t swayed by beauty alone,” he replied softly. “My wife is remarkably gifted.”
“She is still a commoner. And your ancestors — noblemen in the truest sense — would turn in their graves. This is shameful, Duke.”
The words fell like stones in my stomach.
Then her gaze swept toward me — sharp, appraising, merciless.
“And a duchess who can’t even manage a proper greeting? How vulgar.”
I bent my knees quickly, my voice low. “Peace be upon your house. I’ll be more careful from now on, my lady.”
But her expression did not thaw.
“I’m grateful for what you did, but I ask that you no longer involve yourself in my affairs.”
“…Excuse me?”
“I am deeply disappointed, Duke Schultz. Had you married a woman more… appropriate, I might have offered my help more freely.”
“I don’t believe love should be weighed in such calculations.”
The response from Johannes was gentle — but unyielding.
I nearly choked on my breath, knowing well how calculated our marriage had once been.
Still, I forced myself to remain composed.
“Did I… do something wrong, ma’am?”
I couldn’t make sense of her hostility. Was it the lack of greeting? Failing to recognize her?
No — it was more than that.
“You made many mistakes,” she said coolly. “Speaking during matters that didn’t concern you — that was the first.”
She placed her hat back on her head, shadowing her expression in its brim. And when she raised her chin to meet my eyes again, it was like standing before judgment itself.
“I despise commoners who forget their place.”
The final words were icy. Absolute.
“To me, a noble marrying outside their class is a disgrace. Bloodlines are sacred. They should remain untainted.”
I stood frozen, hands clenched against my skirt.
Humiliation burned beneath my skin.
And for a moment, I believed Johannes would remain silent — that his noble blood would side with hers.
But then—
“That belief is outdated, my lady. The world is changing.”
His voice cut through the tension like a violin string pulled too tight.
Mrs. Russell scoffed. Her gaze burned silver-green — furious, yet composed.
“Tell an old woman she’s old, Duke, and see how far it gets you.”
“And yet,” he replied smoothly, “wasn’t it you who amassed a fortune through business dealings that would’ve horrified your forebears?”
Her lips tightened.
“Status is decreed by heaven,” she said bitterly. “Wealth is merely temporal.”
Then, she turned her eyes to me one last time.
“I will accept what you did today. And I will repay you. Soon.”
“…That won’t be necessary.”
I didn’t want anything from a woman who saw me as filth in silk.
But when I refused, her face contorted with disdain.
“How shameful — to be indebted to a commoner.”
