When Angie gave birth to Noah in October of the year before last and recovered somewhat, she planned to move out of Bryn’s house and become independent. She thought she couldn’t depend on them any longer, so she believed it was right to live nearby but take care of her own food, clothing, and shelter.
But she had no idea what to do to make a living. Angie went to school on the island until she was sixteen and read a lot of books. She didn't receive any formal education in the Vintergar style and she didn't have any special skills. So when she asked if they could help her find a maid position, Angie got a harsh scolding from Martin and Bryn. Bryn, in particular, was furious and blushed.
"What? You can't even live outside, so you want to work as a maid in someone else's house? You leave Noah here?"
"Yeah. I guess I'm not qualified to be a tutor... I've also worked as a maid on the island when the Duke's residence was short on manpower. It would be good to have a large house or diplomatic residence that employs a lot of maids without being noticed. Wouldn't it be hard to get into a place like that?"
"Angie, what the heck..."
"It's okay, Bryn. On the island, I mostly worked as a kitchen maid or laundry maid, but I can also work as a scullery maid or chambermaid. If I come every weekend and take care of Noah, I think I could become a nursery maid later on."
"Absolutely not, Angie. I think Angie thinks that's the standard you have for housekeepers... Not all employers are like my father. Even though the status of female workers is changing, the employment environment for housemaids is still poor."
"But..."
"Wait a minute, Angie!"
Bryn and Martin opened their mouths at the same time. Bryn spoke first.
'I just remembered. Now that I think about it, Angie, you have a really special skill. You made baby clothes, socks, and shoes before Noah was born! I think you said that everyone on the island liked you because you were good at making difficult things like guipure lace."
"That just occurred to me. You knitted handkerchiefs for me and Bryn before, and they were as good as those of a professional costume shop. You said that you enjoy making clothes the most. If you really want to try it, why not try using that talent?"
"Yes, Angie! If that isn't a special skill, then what is? Why don't you give the maid job to someone more skilled and do that job, Angie? You work from home, and deliver to a professional clothing store under a professional alias so that you are not exposed to the outside world as much as possible."
"Ah... I would appreciate it if that were possible, but is that possible?"
"Of course! At first, I'll take the work from my regular costume shop, and once they get some satisfactory results, I'm sure everyone will be surprised, but after that, even if you just sit still, you'll get requests. So let's live together in this house like we are now, Angie!"
In the end, the two people's persistence could not be broken. When they finally submitted her work to a downtown clothing store under the pseudonym 'Madame M', the response was not just satisfactory, but explosive.
Angie's exquisite craftsmanship expanded day by day from lace handkerchiefs and socks to include dresses, hats, shawls, knits, hairpieces, cravats, pins, brooches, and other luxurious accessories.
The most famous madams' costume shops sent scouted offers through Bryn and kept asking about the mysterious Madame M. Of course, Bryn denied knowing much because she was also introduced by someone else. The only thing she revealed was that the 'M' in her pseudonym was an initial of the marigold flower.
As the workload increased, the equipment needed increased, including a large sewing machine and table. Bryn offered to build a workshop in the house, and the owner of the mansion, Mr. Armitage, agreed.
However, Martin insisted that it would be better to use his apartment, which was five minutes away, and Angie eventually followed his advice. No matter how safe Bryn's mansion was, there was a possibility that the servants would suspect Angie of being Madame M. Angie, herself, was also on high alert, while being bewildered by the explosive popularity and demand.
"Even if the Duke is married, we can't be at peace for at least a few years. No one knows the inside story of the Blackwell family, whether they are still chasing Escapee, so we must be careful not to expose ourselves to the outside world and hide as much as possible."
Fortunately, Angie hasn't felt any danger for the past three years. This is probably because she hasn't done any social activities or shown any external movements, to the point where her fake ID seems meaningless.
Angie took a quick sip of tea and placed the half-finished lace gloves on the table. She hadn't even started yet, but she was already missing Noah.
Noah Silva. Our baby.
Just thinking about it made her heart ache. For now, it was a name derived from Martin's pseudonym, but one day, it could be Noah Winn. It was unknown when that day would come. It might take longer than expected. Until the Blackwells' evil was revealed to the world and they could achieve complete safety and freedom.
Until then, Angie will definitely protect Noah. With her own strength.
***
The main estate of the Blackwell family in Hedestad was adjacent to the Imperial Palace where King Rainier VIII resided. The land, the exterior of the mansion, and the number of outbuildings were comparable in size and splendor to the Imperial Palace. However, apart from the overwhelming grandeur, the interior was already like a dreary winter.
“Madam, you cannot go in now. The master...”
“Get out of the way!”
The sound of a fan slapping her cheek echoed through the hallway. The maids could no longer stop her. Duchess Leticia Blackwell strode angrily through the Tapestry Hall. She could barely control her expression as she passed through the seemingly endless corridors and under the vaulted ceilings and reached the Grand Chamber.
She entered the tea room in the chamber and nervously pulled back the blue curtain. Behind the curtain, her husband was holding a cup of tea and was about to bring it to his lips. The visiting royal administrator was startled by the sudden appearance of the Duchess. He abruptly rose from his seat and bowed.
“Madam, welcome. It’s an honor to see you after so long.”
“No... I’m sorry. I’m the one who was rude.”
The administrator said that the conversation was over and bid them both a polite farewell. As soon as the guest left, Leticia sat down across from her husband, her chin trembling. She was afraid of his intimidation, but her anger was too great to back down.
The husband, who was only a name, pretended not to see her and finished his teacup. His eyes were fixed on some document the administrator had left behind. It was a scrap of paper about the royal finances, which were clearly in deficit again.
“Yesterday was my birthday. I invited all the nobility of society and threw a big banquet.”
“I know. I personally signed the check for that membership fee.”
“Countess Randolph gave me a subtle insult. She said it was the first time in three years that she had seen someone miss his wife’s birthday party. She said that even Rainier VIII wouldn’t be that busy...”
The end of her words trembled with anger and sorrow. As the silence continued, Kyle kept his eyes fixed on the document and pulled away from his lips. His eyes were only on the paper, but his mind was full of the facts Jerome had reported in the morning.
"Starting next week, we plan to concentrate all of our domestic search forces overseas. We have been searching the entire country for three years, including hundreds of Trieste islands and mountainous areas, under the pretext of a census. Now, we will focus on the areas of Vintegar and Vicentine, and investigate all women regardless of marital status, personal details, or physical characteristics."
Marital status. That word had been stuck in his head like a stain, never leaving. Why had he never thought about it before? There was a good chance that Angie was living as someone's wife, whether it was fake or real. It was just that his instinct denied it, so that possibility had been ruled out from the beginning.
“Are you listening to me right now? I just told you how I was insulted at the birthday party yesterday...”
“So what do you want me to do?”
Kyle's cold, cold eyes finally turned to her. Leticia's body shivered. If there had been anger, disgust, or contempt in that gaze, she might have felt relieved. Even if it was a bad feeling, the fact that it could arouse some emotion in him would have reassured her that she was not being treated as an inanimate object. However, there was only a cold indifference in her husband's eyes.
“Go to the Count’s house and demand an apology. Don’t complain to me.”
“I’m not complaining. What really bothers me is not the gaze of others...”
Tears fell from Leticia's eyes. Kyle's gaze returned to the paper. He felt no emotion toward his wife.
“I just... How long do I have to live like this... I am the mistress of this family...”
“What do you lack? The title of Duchess of Blackwell, money, freedom, a man. You have it all as a condition of marriage, so what more can I give you?”
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