Chapter 41
Even with Dominique, the husband of that so-called “kind of woman”, standing right beside them, the Empress showed not a hint of restraint.
Yet Dominique made no protest at her behaviour. Instead, he twisted his lips in a smirk and began feeding more fuel into the fire.
“Yes, Lexion. I’ve already married a daughter of the Ehrenberg house.”
‘…’
“If you go and marry a woman from the same family, just imagine how concerned His Majesty will be.”
“What?”
“Ehrenberg would then have ties to both the Grand Duke and the Crown Prince. That would put a frightening amount of power in one noble house.”
“Stay out of this, cousin.”
Dominique had said it deliberately, knowing full well that while Lexion acted the obedient lamb before the Emperor, deep down, he bore a rebellious streak.
The most effective trigger of all, of course, was mentioning his own wife.
“Not that I could ever divorce my wife, Lexion.”
‘…’
“I shudder to think that His Majesty might one day order such a thing.”
At that, a strange gleam flickered in Lexion’s eyes. Just the thought that the Emperor might force a separation between Kyrie and Dominique was enough to stir something like anticipation in him.
As though, should they divorce, he might once again embrace her in his arms.
‘Keep dreaming.’
Dominique smiled darkly at the delusion playing in his cousin’s eyes. He ignored the quiet irritation it sparked in him.
Then, driving the final nail in, he added,
“I have no intention of ever parting from my wife.”
So perhaps you might consider separating from Elise Ehrenberg instead.
He didn’t need to say it aloud. The message was loud and clear.
“Well. The Grand Duke of Haswell is speaking from the heart today.”
The Empress, who had never hidden her distaste for Dominique, now reacted openly, convinced her nephew was finally taking her side.
But the fire in Lexion’s eyes only grew more intense. Just as Dominique had intended.
That very day, the long-delayed date of the royal banquet was at last confirmed.
Even after leaving Kyrie alone in the hall to tend to other matters, Dominique hadn’t been overly concerned. There was likely no woman more seasoned in the social battleground than her.
If anything, he half-expected she’d give the watching crowd something truly spectacular to gossip about.
But when he returned from a critical negotiation, he found her surrounded by useless, petty people.
And she was wearing that expression.
‘Her eyes.’
Just for a moment, Kyrie’s gaze faltered as it fell upon Elise Ehrenberg.
To Dominique’s surprise, it stirred something in him, an acute sense of irritation.
He preferred her eyes blazing with fire, or narrowed in visible displeasure directed at him.
Not this.
Not eyes like these, distant and numb, like she’d built a wall around herself. Eyes that, if one weren’t careful, might even be mistaken for wounded.
‘Wounded?’
The idea was laughable. His wild dog had never once been cowed since the day they met.
And yet, his instincts told him to look deeper.
And so he did.
Kyrie was shaken. Even if she hid it well.
He could see it, the blue veins standing out sharply against her pale neck, the sudden flush of capillaries spreading, the soft hairs at the nape of her neck rising, the faint irregularity in her breath.
All of it were signs she displayed only when tense in his presence.
He didn’t want her disturbed or anxious because of anyone but him.
Following her line of sight, he found the cause, Elise Ehrenberg, dressed as though she’d reworked a gown from decades past.
To be fair, it was an elaborate piece, as much as Kyrie’s own, but that was the extent of it. To Dominique, she appeared simply as a generic noblewoman.
‘So what if she looked well-put together?’
That thought froze the moment his eyes reached her neck.
There, hanging delicately, was something he recognised all too well.
The pendant Kyrie had once left behind.
She’d used to toy with it, her small fingers polishing it absentmindedly. It had made him smile, once.
Now it hung around Elise Ehrenberg’s neck.
And strangely enough, it matched the dress perfectly, like a set.
‘Ah.’
Dominique reached a swift conclusion.
The two pieces belonged together.
And if the pendant had meant that much to his wife, then the dress must have as well.
Realising that, his body moved on its own.
“Sorry to leave you alone, Madam.”
The moment he wrapped an arm around Kyrie, the smiles Elise and Lexion had worn, as though they’d already won, crumbled.
Kyrie turned to look at him.
In that quiet moment, her clear gaze resting on him, Dominique acted on impulse. He pressed a kiss to her temple, then turned to greet the Crown Prince and his consort with a perfunctory nod.
The Crown Prince averted his gaze from Dominique and stared straight at Kyrie.
“Are you not going to acknowledge my greeting, Your Grace?”
It was Johansson who spoke next, his voice oddly strained beside the still-silent Kyrie.
“Y-Your Highness…”
He too seemed to have recognised the dress and kept glancing awkwardly between Elise and the veron.
The Young lord was equally frozen.
“So my dear brothers were here with Her Grace.”
“Elise, now’s not the time…”
“What a lovely family gathering this is.”
Beaming, Elise spread out her skirt with a flourish.
“I just had to show this dress to Your Grace.”
Her eyes swept over Kyrie’s face with deliberate precision.
“Father gave it to me.”
And at that very moment, the Duke of Ehrenberg, quietly arriving at the back, locked eyes with Kyrie for the briefest second.
Clink.
A brittle smile, like ice grinding against ice, curled at Kyrie’s lips.
The tension in the banquet hall was like a powder keg on the verge of explosion.
And then the Grand Duke spoke.
“That dress, is it?”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“How very… unlike the Crown Prince’s usual taste.”
The Crown Prince, clearly annoyed, finally spoke up.
“What’s that supposed to mean, cousin?”
“Well, for someone who wants for nothing, I must say, it’s surprising to see Your Highness’s beloved in a refurbished gown from decades past.”
Though delivered like a joke, it scratched at something. The Crown Prince’s neck stiffened.
The gossips began murmuring, inspecting Elise’s gown more closely.
“It does feel a little out of date.”
“Still, they’ve modernised it decently.”
Elise stepped into the conversation as if she’d been waiting for her cue.
“It is quite old, yes.”
“Hmm.”
“It used to belong to the late Duchess, the first one.”
“The Lady Ehrenberg’s mother had excellent taste, I see.”
“Oh, no. I meant…”
Elise’s shining eyes turned back to Kyrie. There was no hiding the triumphant gleam in them.
“It was the first Duchess’s wedding gown.”
Her lashes fluttered as she smiled, glowing like a bride about to receive the world’s blessings.
There was a collective gasp as the implication sank in.
Kyrie Haswell’s own mother’s wedding gown, now worn by the sister who had once tried to kill her.
Fans fluttered in flustered hands, faces flushed with shock. The soft rustling was like the wings of a thousand butterflies.
Whether they favoured poetic justice or just relished scandal, everyone in the room found something delicious in it.
Perhaps that was what the Grand Duke had intended all along, dragging the conversation to this precise moment.
Perhaps all his displays of affection with the mad dog had been mere antics born of a fatal vulnerability.
As those thoughts swirled through the crowd, ready to erupt in subdued laughter,
“Ah, that explains it. I knew it looked familiar.”
Kyrie, who had been silent until now, smiled calmly.
“Come to think of it, my stepmother never had a wedding gown. There wouldn’t have been one for her to pass down to Lady Elise.”
The venomous glee that had hovered in the hall turned swiftly to stunned silence. Even the Duke’s face stiffened.
“She never had one made. I believe she wore that gown for her wedding as well.”
“…”
“And really, she had a habit of wearing my mother’s clothes. She was… terribly frugal.”
“Your Grace, “
Veron tried to intervene, but Kyrie continued, unbothered.
“Oh, but it wasn’t just clothes, was it?”
The sparkle in Elise’s eyes dimmed. Kyrie’s smile deepened.
“The things she wore, the food she ate, her tastes, even the names she liked to use, they all matched perfectly.”
At her words, the entire hall froze in disbelief.
There had long been whispers outside the estate, that the Duke treated his new actress wife as though she were a stand-in for the deceased Duchess. As if her sole purpose was to serve as a replacement.
And Kyrie Ehrenberg had just put voice to that suspicion.
The smile vanished from Elise’s face in an instant.
