Oh my goodness!

“June 16th. Arrival of Patex”

The wristwatch, the young lady’s final gift, was scheduled to be delivered on the duke’s birthday.

Anne looked at Olivia sitting with her hair in the hands of the maid Marie. As she hesitated whether to mention this fact, Mrs. Marie spoke first.

“I know a designer with quick hands.”

Olivia had a conversation with Mrs. Marie to clear up the misunderstanding, and decided to keep her by her side on the condition that she would only serve when requested.

“Could we meet them?”

“Of course. I’ll send someone as soon as day breaks.”

“But even at the quickest, tomorrow is Thursday and the ball is the next day. Isn’t that too rushed?”

Anne asked out of concern.

“It’s possible for that person.”

Mrs. Marie answered with confidence.

And the next day, the designer who had Mrs. Marie’s absolute trust charged in like leading a brigade into enemy lines.

“Hello, Miss Blanchet. Nice to meet you.”

A woman wearing a hat with swaying bright blue peacock feathers tilted to one side greeted her.

At the same time, she swept Olivia from head to toe in one glance. Her gaze that went down to the ankle bones of her slender feet quickly rose back up to meet Olivia’s eyes.

“Perfect.”

The woman who introduced herself as Madame Lauren raised her red-painted lips glamorously.

“Well then. Shall we take it off first?”

The sky that had been gloomy since morning began to rain in the afternoon.

A black four-horse carriage was entering between the rows of spruce trees with blooming red-purple female flowers, getting rained on.

It was the carriage returning from Raiden Palace after being summoned by the crown prince.

Morris, who had been pacing anxiously by the window, hurried downstairs.

On a day when he had to make such a report, the weather was not on his side either.

Johan Leopold particularly disliked rainy days, and was basically in a low mood on such days.

In other words, Morris would have to pour oil on a burning house in a moment.

Morris, who had been sighing deeply, went out to the porch with the butler when he saw the carriage pass through the main gate.

“Welcome back.”

Johan, who got out of the carriage, nodded briefly and entered. Morris walked beside Johan as he crossed the central hall, observing his mood. His footsteps were full of anger.

Though he didn’t know what words were exchanged during the audience with the crown prince, it was clear that it wasn’t good.

Morris gauged for a better timing to report. As they say, avoid the sudden shower.

“Speak.”

But there was no such perfect timing for the sharp Johan. It was only a matter of getting hit now or later.

As they say, it’s better for a hawk to be hit first. Morris summarized as concisely as possible in one line.

“The Ritten City Hall has sent a notice of rejection.”

The sound of footsteps echoing in the high-ceilinged hall came to an abrupt stop. Johan Leopold’s face, which already looked displeased, crumpled even more fiercely, exuding a murderous aura.

“The reason.”

A low voice spread through the space along with the sound of rain.

“Well. The situation has turned quite nasty.”

“Did the Lancaster family get involved?”

“There was a meeting with the mayor of Ritten yesterday. I’ll report the details in the office.”

Edgar wouldn’t stand by and watch the Leopold Hotel being built in the heart of Ritten. Just as Johan wouldn’t.

Johan raised his head.

Johan’s eyes, slowly scanning the beautiful religious painting on the high ceiling, the light of the huge chandelier hanging in the center, and the brilliant crystals scattering that light, were tinged with irritation.

‘I told them you’d go to greet Princess Krantz. Don’t keep the lady waiting. Johan.’

The sneering face of Christian in the reception room of the crown prince’s palace this afternoon came to mind, doubling his irritation.

‘Johan! Help me! If the engagement with Agent breaks off, I’ll end up lying next to Father’s coffin. Johan, we’re brothers. Please help me!’

Bastard.

It was only three years ago when he crawled on all fours and begged after the scandal with Olivia Blanchet broke out.

Back then, he accepted that dirty proposal because he needed the title, but now, not particularly.

He couldn’t just get married like being sold off as a stud horse because of Christian’s unreasonable demands.

Indeed. I made the divorce too easy.

The grayish-blue sky visible through the terrace window touching the ceiling reminded him of the desperate eyes of his wife. The pitiful and base woman who always longed only for him.

Johan had just stepped onto the central staircase covered with red carpet, lowering his gaze that had been wandering meaninglessly around Greathills Ducal Castle, which was one of the rewards for participating in the crown prince’s farce.

Johan stopped once again.

“What is that.”

At the cool voice, Morris followed Johan’s gaze up to the gallery stage. It was where the portrait of Duke and Duchess Leopold used to hang.

But now, two handsome men with neatly combed bright blonde hair, the symbol of nobility, were looking down at them with dignified gazes.

Johan’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the portrait of the previous Duke of Edinburgh, his father.

“That is……”

Just as the butler behind was about to speak, Diane approached quickly from the other side with light footsteps.

“You’re here now.”

A smile like the mistress of this house bloomed on her flushed face.

It had been over a month since the divorce.

The portrait of Olivia Blanchet hanging proudly on the central staircase was not right for anyone to see.

No matter how much unparalleled beauty it boasted, there was no reason for it to hang beside Johan Leopold anymore.

“Hang this instead of that painting.”

Diane instructed the servants in an elegant tone, straightening her back. She looked like the mistress of the ducal residence, but no one objected.

Johan was a busy man and had no leisure to care about household matters, so Diane had been in charge of the internal affairs of Greathills. So there was nothing strange about it.

The duchess was incompetent, and later became unsound of mind, so she was virtually the de facto mistress of the house.

Olivia knew nothing. She entered the count’s residence at six and became seventeen without receiving any education.

How much could the things they hastily taught her to sell her in the marriage market after the Blanchet family’s downfall have sunk into her head and body? So she was ignorant and clumsy.

Diane found her ridiculous.

Occasionally, when Olivia was not intoxicated by drugs or alcohol and was in a clear state of mind, she tried to fulfill her duties as a duchess.

Whenever Olivia attempted such actions that didn’t suit her status, Diane made her acutely aware of her position. There were no better candidates for that role than the Oscar siblings.

The people who hated Olivia Blanchet the most in this world, her half-siblings.

A father who had an affair with their mother’s friend. A mother who shot and killed that father in front of them. The siblings’ mother repeatedly muttered.

‘This is all because of that bitch.’

It was natural for the siblings’ twisted resentment to be directed at Olivia.

The effect was certain. Like a field ravaged by a storm, Olivia, with her hair pulled out and scratches on her face after they left, would lock herself in her room quietly like a dead mouse until her wounds healed.

On such days, even when Johan, whom she had been waiting for so eagerly, came to the bedroom, she would stubbornly refuse to open the locked door.

Poor thing.

Diane felt ecstasy at the sight of Olivia, prettily dressed up with a shy smile, being pulled down by the hands of strong men. It felt like pulling out an aching tooth.

Diane recalled the debutante ball where she first met Johan as she watched the portrait of the previous Duke of Edinburgh being hung.

She fell in love at first sight with the man who entered escorting Princess Catherine.

But because his partner was the princess of Rondos, Diane, merely the daughter of a baron’s family, gave up her feelings. Who would have thought that a lowly bastard would become the Duchess of Leopold…

If you could become it, I can too, Olivia.

After admiring the satisfactorily hung painting for a moment, Diane headed to the kitchen, accompanied by the maids standing behind her.

It was almost time for Johan, who had gone to the palace, to return, and it was dinner time. She gave instructions about the table setting while checking on the state of the venison being prepared for him.

She enjoyed this life that revolved around her orders and considered it her important duty.

Yet she always paid attention to the gazes of other servants and cleverly maintained an appropriate line. Because she was not yet the duchess.

It was then that the bell announcing the lineup of servants rang. He had arrived.

“You’re here now.”

At this time when she welcomed Johan, Diane felt ecstatic as if she had become his wife.

As she was the only woman in Greathills not wearing a black maid’s uniform, she couldn’t help but stand out without much effort. Especially now, with the servants lined up like a folding screen.

Nevertheless, Diane dressed more boldly today. Her breasts, tightly pushed up by the corset, looked luscious.

Johan’s gaze was fixed on the portrait of the previous duke from beginning to end. It was a bit disappointing, but it was true that his cynical gaze made him look more attractive. That’s why she was even more impatient.

Diane admired Johan’s side profile with her hands neatly clasped together, waiting for his reaction.

“I asked why this is hanging here.”

Diane was taken aback by the low voice.

“Miss Brook replaced it,” the butler reported.

“Change it back.”

“Understood.”

“Is there… a special reason?”

Only then did Johan’s gaze turn to Diane. She couldn’t understand his cold and displeased look. The psychology of insisting on the portrait of his divorced ex-wife.

“Your birthday is coming soon, Your Grace. It won’t look good to the people invited to the banquet either. Do you really have to hang it?”

Knowing it was presumptuous, Diane held her breath.

“Do I need to ask permission from the servants even to hang a single painting in my own house?”

It was a cold rebuke.