08. Scandal
Could the Duke of Tisse's burning passion really not be extinguished even by marriage? Our war hero, who surprised the entire kingdom by marrying the daughter of a noble family, is said to be spending sweet times with the Marchioness Isabella in Swanton, staying out of sight. In the bedroom at the very top of the Rose Castle, candles never go out, and the poor, pitiful bride has been left in the countryside for three months after her wedding...
“Shall I bring you some tea?”
The owner of the tailor shop opened his mouth to Chloe in a trembling voice. He had never thought that the gossip paper reporting Swanton's news would be there. The Duchess carefully read each letter, then folded it neatly and placed it back on the table.
“No, the tea is fine. I’ve heard there’s an interesting newspaper, but this is the first time I’ve actually seen it.”
'The Red Veil' was a secret gossip magazine published without royal permission. It was fun to read because it mostly ridiculed the private lives and extramarital affairs of the nobility, but it was a list that was strictly forbidden in the palace.
“I will burn it right away, Duchess.”
As Deborah, the owner of the tailor shop, bowed her head, Chloe waved her hand.
“That won’t happen. If it’s something that can be burned, I have a lot of memories that I would like to burn.”
Deborah pursed her lips as she watched Chloe continue to speak calmly in this situation. Chloe, who was younger than her own daughter, had a determined look on her face, even with a smile on her face.
“I think I’ve measured all the measurements, so I guess I can go now?”
“Yes? You haven’t even chosen the fabric and design yet...”
Chloe shook her head, still smiling faintly, and took up her cane.
“I would like you to do it yourself. I think an expert would be better at it than me.”
The door opened and the Duchess disappeared, dragging her clumsy legs. Deborah remained folded, staring intently at the newspaper on the table. The front page of the paper reported the affair between the Duke and Marchioness Isabella, and it depicted them in great detail, looking at each other from the balcony of the Rose Palace. Marchioness Isabella was smiling seductively, her hair in a high bun that seemed to have cost her a fortune, and the Duke could not take his face off her ample chest revealed under her dress.
“Men, anyway, they’re ruining the country because of their lower body!”
Deborah clicked her tongue loudly and thought that she should make the poor Duchess the most beautiful dress she could. It was a pity to Chloe, but the drab-colored dress she was wearing was centuries out of style. If she just changed her clothes a little, her pretty face would definitely stand out more.
“Let everyone see the skills of a country tailor!”
Deborah vowed once again that she would use this opportunity to spend as much money as she could from the Duke's pocket. Her hands were busy selecting the finest fabrics that would suit Chloe's pale face.
“Miss, I think it would be best for you to return to the castle.”
“We still have some scheduled things to do. We have to meet with Professor Wharton and talk about opening a hospital, and we also have to see the canal and the windmill.”
Gray chewed his lip as he watched Chloe, her face pale, get into the carriage. He had also just read the Red Veil that had been published this morning. While Chloe was choosing clothes in the tailor's shop, a boy selling newspapers ran down the street happily. He tore up the paper with the Duke and the strange woman's faces printed on it as big as a door and threw it into the drain, but his anger did not subside.
“...people might feel uncomfortable meeting the young lady.”
“If the Duchess is seen being swayed by low-quality rumors, people might become even more anxious. Let’s get going.”
Gray didn't want to, but he had no choice but to ride. Chloe, who had been trying to smile, closed her eyes as soon as the carriage door closed, feeling all the strength drain from her body. Her heart was pounding uncomfortably and her stomach was rumbling. She wanted to go back to the castle right away.
A poor, pitiful bride. A country girl recuperating. A puppet Duchess put forward by the free Duke of Tisse. A bird with a broken leg cannot fly.
The letters she had read in the newspaper dug into her heart one by one like shards of broken glass.
Her slightly wet eyelashes fluttered and lifted upward. She could not forget the side profile of the Duke buried in the chest of the Marchioness Isabella.
Why on earth does he put her through this humiliation?
The Duke of Tisse's last words to Chloe as he left for the capital city of Swanton were, "Fulfill your duties as a Duchess." Now that she was married to him, Chloe also intended to follow his words faithfully.
She had done her best to maintain her position as a Duchess to make it seem like there were no problems in her married life, but the moment she saw with her own eyes that the Duke was living like a debaucher in the capital, an unbearable shame and anger burned within her.
"Ha..."
It was already halfway through fall, but she felt hot. Her back ached from the jolting carriage as they passed the gravel road. Chloe bit her lips and raised her head. In fact, if she thinks about it, it wasn't a marriage that she had no expectations of from the beginning.
So it's okay. I'm okay.
Chloe, who had calmed herself down several times and gotten out of the carriage, checked the irrigation canal with her usual face.
“If you have any difficulties, don’t hesitate to tell me.”
“Thank you, Duchess.”
A farmer bowed his head with a sweaty face.
“Her Excellency’s face is different from what I saw in the newspaper!”
Someone hurriedly covered the mouth of a child who was picking up ears of wheat.
“Oh, that’s right! It definitely had a head as high as a bird’s nest and a mole on its cheek!”
As another child raised his voice next to him, the farmer's face turned red and he repeatedly bowed his head in apology.
Chloe smiled bitterly and turned around without saying anything. She heard someone giggling behind her, but she didn't dare to turn around. She felt like she was going to get angry at the innocent child. She really hated the Duke who made her feel this miserable.
As the butler entered the study, Damian, who was standing by the window, turned his head. After finishing his work, it was his usual routine to have a drink and wrap things up for the day. As the butler carefully put down his drink and was about to leave, Damian suddenly opened his mouth.
“Is there any letter from Verdier?”
Only then did the butler realize what he had forgotten and quickly lowered his head.
“No. It arrived today when Lady Isabella visited, but it got too late, so I postponed delivery until tomorrow.”
“Bring it.”
At the quick reprimand, the butler hurried to the hallway where the letter had been kept. The reason for this was that he was absent-minded because the Marchioness Isabella had visited shortly after the letter had arrived.
“Well... I don’t know what’s going on.”
The Duke of Tisse's frequent visits to the capital began immediately after the war ended. As a result, the almost empty Rose Palace was crowded with nobles and businessmen waiting to get in touch with him.
“Why are you keeping the letters when you don’t even reply to them once?”
In all of Paul's twenty years as a butler, he had never met a master so unpredictable as the young Duke of Tisse. When he returned to the study in a hurry and handed over the letter, Damian nodded.
“Put it down there.”
“Yes, Your Excellency. Then, please rest.”
“Who said you could go out?”
The butler swallowed dryly, tense at the sharp voice.
“Do you have any further instructions?”
“Who said it was okay to ask me questions?”
The butler's lips were tightly shut. Damian slowly approached him and met his eyes. Damian's hand tapped his shoulder once before letting go.
"Paul."
“Yes, Your Excellency the Duke.”
Paul stuttered without realizing it.
“I respect capable people more than anyone else. But the opposite is different.”
The Duke's appearance, as he freely shared a drink with businessmen without any formality, and the person in front of him had such different eyes that it was hard to say they were the same person.
“Do your job properly from now on.”
Damien's lips were turned upwards in a curved line, but his eyes were not. He could tell with his veteran butler's intuition that his master was now warning him for the first and last time.
“I will keep that in mind.”
Could the Duke of Tisse's burning passion really not be extinguished even by marriage? Our war hero, who surprised the entire kingdom by marrying the daughter of a noble family, is said to be spending sweet times with the Marchioness Isabella in Swanton, staying out of sight. In the bedroom at the very top of the Rose Castle, candles never go out, and the poor, pitiful bride has been left in the countryside for three months after her wedding...
“Shall I bring you some tea?”
The owner of the tailor shop opened his mouth to Chloe in a trembling voice. He had never thought that the gossip paper reporting Swanton's news would be there. The Duchess carefully read each letter, then folded it neatly and placed it back on the table.
“No, the tea is fine. I’ve heard there’s an interesting newspaper, but this is the first time I’ve actually seen it.”
'The Red Veil' was a secret gossip magazine published without royal permission. It was fun to read because it mostly ridiculed the private lives and extramarital affairs of the nobility, but it was a list that was strictly forbidden in the palace.
“I will burn it right away, Duchess.”
As Deborah, the owner of the tailor shop, bowed her head, Chloe waved her hand.
“That won’t happen. If it’s something that can be burned, I have a lot of memories that I would like to burn.”
Deborah pursed her lips as she watched Chloe continue to speak calmly in this situation. Chloe, who was younger than her own daughter, had a determined look on her face, even with a smile on her face.
“I think I’ve measured all the measurements, so I guess I can go now?”
“Yes? You haven’t even chosen the fabric and design yet...”
Chloe shook her head, still smiling faintly, and took up her cane.
“I would like you to do it yourself. I think an expert would be better at it than me.”
The door opened and the Duchess disappeared, dragging her clumsy legs. Deborah remained folded, staring intently at the newspaper on the table. The front page of the paper reported the affair between the Duke and Marchioness Isabella, and it depicted them in great detail, looking at each other from the balcony of the Rose Palace. Marchioness Isabella was smiling seductively, her hair in a high bun that seemed to have cost her a fortune, and the Duke could not take his face off her ample chest revealed under her dress.
“Men, anyway, they’re ruining the country because of their lower body!”
Deborah clicked her tongue loudly and thought that she should make the poor Duchess the most beautiful dress she could. It was a pity to Chloe, but the drab-colored dress she was wearing was centuries out of style. If she just changed her clothes a little, her pretty face would definitely stand out more.
“Let everyone see the skills of a country tailor!”
Deborah vowed once again that she would use this opportunity to spend as much money as she could from the Duke's pocket. Her hands were busy selecting the finest fabrics that would suit Chloe's pale face.
***
“Miss, I think it would be best for you to return to the castle.”
“We still have some scheduled things to do. We have to meet with Professor Wharton and talk about opening a hospital, and we also have to see the canal and the windmill.”
Gray chewed his lip as he watched Chloe, her face pale, get into the carriage. He had also just read the Red Veil that had been published this morning. While Chloe was choosing clothes in the tailor's shop, a boy selling newspapers ran down the street happily. He tore up the paper with the Duke and the strange woman's faces printed on it as big as a door and threw it into the drain, but his anger did not subside.
“...people might feel uncomfortable meeting the young lady.”
“If the Duchess is seen being swayed by low-quality rumors, people might become even more anxious. Let’s get going.”
Gray didn't want to, but he had no choice but to ride. Chloe, who had been trying to smile, closed her eyes as soon as the carriage door closed, feeling all the strength drain from her body. Her heart was pounding uncomfortably and her stomach was rumbling. She wanted to go back to the castle right away.
A poor, pitiful bride. A country girl recuperating. A puppet Duchess put forward by the free Duke of Tisse. A bird with a broken leg cannot fly.
The letters she had read in the newspaper dug into her heart one by one like shards of broken glass.
Her slightly wet eyelashes fluttered and lifted upward. She could not forget the side profile of the Duke buried in the chest of the Marchioness Isabella.
Why on earth does he put her through this humiliation?
The Duke of Tisse's last words to Chloe as he left for the capital city of Swanton were, "Fulfill your duties as a Duchess." Now that she was married to him, Chloe also intended to follow his words faithfully.
She had done her best to maintain her position as a Duchess to make it seem like there were no problems in her married life, but the moment she saw with her own eyes that the Duke was living like a debaucher in the capital, an unbearable shame and anger burned within her.
"Ha..."
It was already halfway through fall, but she felt hot. Her back ached from the jolting carriage as they passed the gravel road. Chloe bit her lips and raised her head. In fact, if she thinks about it, it wasn't a marriage that she had no expectations of from the beginning.
So it's okay. I'm okay.
Chloe, who had calmed herself down several times and gotten out of the carriage, checked the irrigation canal with her usual face.
“If you have any difficulties, don’t hesitate to tell me.”
“Thank you, Duchess.”
A farmer bowed his head with a sweaty face.
“Her Excellency’s face is different from what I saw in the newspaper!”
Someone hurriedly covered the mouth of a child who was picking up ears of wheat.
“Oh, that’s right! It definitely had a head as high as a bird’s nest and a mole on its cheek!”
As another child raised his voice next to him, the farmer's face turned red and he repeatedly bowed his head in apology.
Chloe smiled bitterly and turned around without saying anything. She heard someone giggling behind her, but she didn't dare to turn around. She felt like she was going to get angry at the innocent child. She really hated the Duke who made her feel this miserable.
***
As the butler entered the study, Damian, who was standing by the window, turned his head. After finishing his work, it was his usual routine to have a drink and wrap things up for the day. As the butler carefully put down his drink and was about to leave, Damian suddenly opened his mouth.
“Is there any letter from Verdier?”
Only then did the butler realize what he had forgotten and quickly lowered his head.
“No. It arrived today when Lady Isabella visited, but it got too late, so I postponed delivery until tomorrow.”
“Bring it.”
At the quick reprimand, the butler hurried to the hallway where the letter had been kept. The reason for this was that he was absent-minded because the Marchioness Isabella had visited shortly after the letter had arrived.
“Well... I don’t know what’s going on.”
The Duke of Tisse's frequent visits to the capital began immediately after the war ended. As a result, the almost empty Rose Palace was crowded with nobles and businessmen waiting to get in touch with him.
“Why are you keeping the letters when you don’t even reply to them once?”
In all of Paul's twenty years as a butler, he had never met a master so unpredictable as the young Duke of Tisse. When he returned to the study in a hurry and handed over the letter, Damian nodded.
“Put it down there.”
“Yes, Your Excellency. Then, please rest.”
“Who said you could go out?”
The butler swallowed dryly, tense at the sharp voice.
“Do you have any further instructions?”
“Who said it was okay to ask me questions?”
The butler's lips were tightly shut. Damian slowly approached him and met his eyes. Damian's hand tapped his shoulder once before letting go.
"Paul."
“Yes, Your Excellency the Duke.”
Paul stuttered without realizing it.
“I respect capable people more than anyone else. But the opposite is different.”
The Duke's appearance, as he freely shared a drink with businessmen without any formality, and the person in front of him had such different eyes that it was hard to say they were the same person.
“Do your job properly from now on.”
Damien's lips were turned upwards in a curved line, but his eyes were not. He could tell with his veteran butler's intuition that his master was now warning him for the first and last time.
“I will keep that in mind.”
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